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Ancestors
Your tombstone stands among the rest
Neglected and alone.
The name and date are chiseled out
On polished, marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I exist.
You died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
Entirely not our own.
Dear Ancestor,
the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
And come to visit you.
Author-Unknown
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Your Dash
I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning...to the end.
*****
He noted that first came her date of birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years.
1930 - 1998
*****
For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth...
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.
*****
For it matters not, how much we own;
The cars..the house...the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.
*****
So think about this long and hard
Are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.
*****
If we could just slow down enough
To consider what's true and real,
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.
*****
And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we've never loved before.
*****
If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile
Remembering that this special dash
May last only a little while.
*****
So, when your eulogy's being read
With your life's actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?
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Old Woman ?
When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small
hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she
had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through her meagre possessions, they found this poem.
Its quality and content so impressed the staff
that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Ireland.
The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the ''North Ireland Association for Mental Health''A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent poem.
And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet.
What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you're looking at me?
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply when you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try!"
Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe......
Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill....
Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse; you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten ...with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who love one another.
A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty -- my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five now, I have young of my own,
who need me to guide, and a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.
At fifty once more, babies play round my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead;
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I've known.
I'm now an old woman ...and nature is cruel;
'Tis jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life over again.
I think of the years ....all too few, gone too fast,and accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, nurses, open and see,
Not a crabby old woman; look closer see me! |
I Wish You Enough
I WISH YOU ENOUGH
Recently I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport.
The intercom had announced the departure.
Standing near the security gate, they hugged and he mother said
"I love you and I wish you enough". The daughter replied, "Mom, our life
together has been more than enough.
Your love is all I ever needed. I
wish you enough, too, Mom". They kissed and the daughter left. The
mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there I
> > could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her
> > privacy but she welcomed me in by asking "Did you ever say good-bye to
>
> > someone knowing it would be forever?".
> > "Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking but why is this a
> forever
> > goodbye?".
> > "I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the
> > reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral" she said.
> > "When you were saying goodbye, I heard you say 'I wish you enough'.
> May I
> > ask what that means?".
> > She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from
> other
> > generations. My parents used to say it to everyone".
> >
> > She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in
> > detail and she smiled even more. "When we said 'I wish you enough' we
> > were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough
> > good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me she shared the
> > following as if she were reciting it from memory --- I wish you enough
>
> > sun to keep your attitude bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate
>
> > the sun more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
> > I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much
> > bigger.
> > I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
> > I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
> > I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.
> > She then began to cry and walked away.
> > They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to > appreciate> > them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.
> >
I WISH YOU ENOUGH!!!
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Larry Laprise
Who danced to the Hokey Kokey
Larry Laprise
With all the sadness and trauma going on in the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on the death of a very important person which almost went unnoticed last week.
Larry LaPrise, the man who wrote "The Hokey Kokey" died peacefully at the age 0f 93.
The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin.
They put his left leg in. And then the trouble started.
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Grandma's apron
GRANDMA'S APRON
The principle use of Grandma's apron was to protect the dress underneath, but along with that, it served as holder for removing hot pans from the oven;
it was wonderful for drying children's tears,
and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears.
From the chicken-coop the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy
chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming
oven.
When company came those old aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids; and when the weather was cold, grandma wrapped it around her arms.
Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove.
Chips and kindling-wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron.
From the garden it carried all sorts of vegetables.
After the peas had been shelled it carried out the hulls.
In the fall it was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees.
When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds.
When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out on the porch and waved her apron, and the men knew it was time to come in from the fields for dinner.
It will be a long time before anyone invents something that will replace that old-time apron that served so many purposes. [author Unknown]
Thought you all may like this one.
from Rose Morrison
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Grandma's family tree
There's been a change in Grandma,
We've noticed her of late,
She's always reading history,
or jotting down some date.
She's tracking back the family,
and we'll all have pedigrees.
Oh, Grandma's got a hobby,
she's climbing Family Trees.
Poor Grandpa does the cooking,
now, or so he states,
The worst of all, he has to do,
is wash the Dinner plates.
Grandma can't be bothered,
she's as busy as a bee,
Compiling all our Genealogy,
for our Family Tree.
She has no time to baby-sit,
the curtains are a fright.
No buttons left on Grandpa's shirt,
and the flower bed's a sight.
She's given up her club work,
and watching what's on TV,
The only thing she does nowadays,
is climb the Family Tree.
She goes down to the Courthouse,
and studies ancient lore,
We know more about our forebears now,
than we ever knew before.
The books are old and dusty,
they make poor Grandma sneeze,
A minor irritation though,
when you're climbing Family Trees.
The mail is all for Grandma,
the postie brings in a bag,
Last week she got the proof she needed,
sent urgently from SAG.
A worthwhile avocation,
to that we all agree,
A monumental project,
to climb the Family Tree.
Now some folks came from Scotland,
and some from Galway Bay,
Some as French as pastry,
and some German, all the way.
Some went out West to stake their claim.
Some stayed near by the sea.
Grandma hopes to find them all,
as she climbs the Family Tree.
She wanders through the graveyards,
in search of date or name,
The rich, the poor, the in-between,
all sleeping there the same.
She pauses now and then to rest,
fanned by a gentle breeze,
That blows above the Fathers,
of all our Family Trees.
There were pioneers and patriots,
mixed in our kith and kin,
Who blazed the paths of wilderness,
and fought through thick and thin.
But none more staunch than Grandma,
whose eyes light up with glee,
Each times she finds a missing branch,
to return to our Family Tree.
Their skills were wide and varied,
from Carpenter to Cook,
And one (Alas) the record shows,
was hopelessly a crook.
Blacksmiths, weavers, farmers,
some tutored all for a fee.
Long lost in time, but now recorded,
back on the Family Tree.
To some it's just a hobby,
to Grandma it's much more,
She knows the joys and heartaches,
of those who went before.
They loved,they lost,they laughed, they wept,
and now for you and me,
They live again in spirit,
around our Family Tree.
At last she's nearly finished,
and we each stand there exposed.
Will our life be the same again,
this is what we all supposed !
Grandma will cook and sew, again,
and serve cookies with our tea.
We'll all be fat, just as before,
that wretched Family Tree.
Sad to relate, The Preacher called you see,
and visited for a spell,
We talked about the Gospel,
and other things as well,
The heathen folk, the poor- and then-
'twas fate, it had to be,
Somehow the conversation turned,
to Grandma and the Family Tree.
We tried to change the subject,
we talked of everything,
But then in Grandma's voice we heard,
that old familiar ring.
She told him all about the past,
and soon was plain to see,
The Preacher, too, was nearly snared,
by Grandma and the Family Tree.
He never knew his Grandpa,
his mother's name was ..Clark?
He and Grandma talked and talked,
outside it grew quite dark.
We'd hoped our fears were groundless,
but just like some disease,
Grandma's become an addict---
She's hooked on Family Trees.
Our souls were filled with sorrow,
our hearts sank with dismay,
Our ears could scarce believe the words,
we heard our Grandma say,
"It sure is a lucky thing,
that you have come to me,
I know exactly how it's done,
I'll climb your Family Tree.
Does it remind you of anyone?
Bye from Grandma ---errrrr I mean Sheila Barker & Rose Morrison |
somebody said
Somebody said that it couldn't be done,
But he with a chuckle replied,
that "maybe it couldn't", but he would be one
who wouldn't say so till he'd tried.
So he buckled right in , with the trace of a grin
On his face.if he worried he hid it!.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing that couldn't be done and he did it
E A Guest |
people
Some people come into our lives and quickly go..
Some people become friends and stay awhile...
...leaving beautiful footprints on our hearts,...
and we are never quite the same because we have made a good friend!!
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Time
Around the corner I have a friend,
In this great city that has no end,
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year is gone.
And I never see my old friends face,
For life is a swift and terrible race,
He knows I like him just as well,
As in the days when I rang his bell.
And he rang mine but we were younger then,
And now we are busy, tired men.
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.
Tomorrow" I say! "I will call on Jim
Just to show that I'm thinking of him."
But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows.
Around the corner, yet miles away,
Here's a telegram sir," "Jim died today."
And that's what we get and deserve in the end.
Around the corner, a vanished friend.
Remember to always say what you mean.
If you love someone, tell them.
Don't be afraid to express yourself.
Reach out and tell someone what they mean to you.
Because when you decide that it is the right time, it might be too late.
Seize the day. Never have regrets.
And most importantly,
stay close to your friends and family, for they have helped make you the person that you are today.
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Be beside me
Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.
Don't walk behind me, I might not lead.
Just walk beside me ,and be my friend.
from Your friend
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Sing
Sing me a song of the out-of-doors,
Of the mountains,the fields ,and the sea.
Where the skies are clear,and the breezes cheer,
and the heart of a man is free.
A.Walton |
Words to Live By
Words to Live By
Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue.
Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.
Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.
Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be recalled by their maker.
Eat a live toad in the morning and nothing worse will happen to you for the rest of the day.
If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
If you lend someone $20, and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.
It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.
Never buy a car you can't push.
Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you don't have a leg to stand on.
Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.
The early worm gets eaten by the bird, so sleep late.
When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
Birthdays are good for you; the more you have, the longer you live.
Ever notice that the people who are late are often much jollier than the people who have to wait for them?
If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?
You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the world to one person.
Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.
Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened.
A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.
Happiness comes through doors you didn't even know you left open.
Have an awesome day, and know that someone has thought about you today....
...Regards Clay & Peggy
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the present
Yesterday is history. Tomorrow a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why it's called the present |
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