Today a good friend of ours Is having to say good-bye To her furry companion Such days make me cry
The doggy’s name is Hannah. She’s been a faithful friend. Companionship and a love – Giving comfort to the end
I wrote this poem for my friend, Fran, as a comfort as she sees Hannah off on her final journey. Bon Voyage, dear pup. You’ve been a treasured friend for over 15 years. You’ve earned you eternal reward!
I don’t have to understand In order to believe. I just have to trust – And know it’s okay to grieve.
When tragedy strikes – Like the death of a friend – I don’t have to comprehend Why my friend’s life must end.
I can just believe There’s a heaven and a hell. My friend will ascend To eternity to dwell.
In heaven are the ones Who lived by the Cross. They accepted God’s grace, So their death is not loss.
There are people and pets In that paradise up high. I don’t have to understand – Just anticipate the sky!
Rest in Peace, Sweet Hannah. Your cross to bear has ended – Your life you shared and blended. Your soul to heaven ascended.
Have a blessed Saturday. Say a prayer for my friend, Fran.
These pictures below are from a book by Cynthia Rylant titled, “Dog Heaven.” It was a gift to us from the Colorado State Veterinary Hospital staff after our beloved Boston, Angela, died following a two year bout with cancer.
And thank God there are fields for romping in Heaven.
See ya round the bend. (Do you have a pet waiting for you in Heaven?)
The Reason for the season Is not always clear. Today as I was decorating, This message caught my ear.
Time to decorate For the coming of Jesus. It’s Holiday Time.
Time to decorate The foyer and entryway; Put up Christmas wreaths.
Time to decorate Dining room and kitchen, too. Poinsettia in place.
Time to decorate Living room and outside, too. Hang lighted snowflake.
Time to decorate For the coming of Christmas Where is the manger?
Is Jesus in your decor?
I can decorate. The reason for the season Must be apparent.
Look carefully at that picture. Santa is back there… But in front of him is a clay manger scene. It looks pretty primitive. That’s because it is! Out son made this as an art project in Sunday School when he was about 6 years old. He’s now 55.
Do you keep such works of art and take them out each year to treasure the memories?
It is a case from a friend who visited from Africa – and in the case are these darling manger scene figures made from grasses:
When the Christmas decoration boxes come up from the basement, with them come so many memories. This is a real egg with a window cut out by my dear mother-in-law, Laura Belle Beekman. She painted it red, decorated it, and added a musical angel to the center of it. It was my Christmas gift from her in the early 60’s, shortly after Bob & I were married. With her Faberge’ style eggs, she comes alive again – and lives in our Christmas decor.
When I hang this ornament on our tree each year, my Hillsborough, California kindergarten class comes alive. This one with our kitty, was the sample I made as my students were creating theirs – with a picture of themselves on their ornaments. One of those students, Heidi, still has hers. She posted it on FaceBook last week. What a treasure! Heidi is now 55!!
How are you doing with your holiday decorations? Have you put up a tree? Or do you have a Menorah? Or an Advent Wreath? Tell me about your decorating fun this time of the year.
And meantime, click on the link below and enjoy two of my favorite singers singing one of my favorite Christmas songs.
Merry Christmas is coming… Enjoy your decorating! And don’t forget the REASON for the SEASON!! See ya tomorrow. Love, JanBeek
We were having one of my favorite meals, spaghetti with meat sauce, when I first told my family that I had broken up with my fiance’. My dad nearly choked on his mouthful. My mom shoved her plate of spaghetti half-way across the table!
To this day, I can’t eat spaghetti with meat sauce without remembering that day.
My fiance’ and I had been engaged for about a year. He was in the army, stationed in Germany. I was a senior in college, missing the social life, trying to remain true to my engagement. I wanted to attend the school’s dances and other social functions. It was hard!
Rather than being untrue to my boyfriend who was so far away (we had not seen each other in six months), I broke off with him. Obviously, my parents were devastated. Especially when they learned the guy I wanted to date was a divorce’.
“Why buy a used car when you can have a new one?” my dad finally spoke. Then he got up and walked out of the room. (Yes, Dad was a man of few words, but a list of prejudices a mile long!)
Mom followed him, without speaking a word. That was so unlike her.
Proverbs 6: 20-23
20 My son, obey your father’s commands,and don’t neglect your mother’s instruction. 21 Keep their words always in your heart. Tie them around your neck. 22 When you walk, their counsel will lead you. When you sleep, they will protect you. When you wake up, they will advise you. 23 For their command is a lamp and their instruction a light; their corrective discipline is the way to life.
The man I broke up with was from a family very much like my own. He grew up in the same area I did. We shared common roots. My parent and his got along wonderfully. The man I wanted to date was nine years older than I. I won’t get into why he was so attractive to me, but suffice to say, my parents’ dismay touched me deeply.
They let me have my “fling.” They did not bad-mouth my new friend. But when my ex-boyfriend came home on leave, they invited him over. When I returned home from college that weekend, he was there. I realized how much I loved him. That love has carried us through 58 years of marriage. Not always perfect, not always blissful, but always respectful, and always knitted together in prayer, faith in God, and common purpose. The love has grown as years passed – and I am grateful every day for my parents’ wisdom.
Put a plate of spaghetti and meatballs in front of me. I can taste the kindness of my parents in every meatball. I can hear my mom’s silence and feel her prayers in every slurp of pasta. I feel my dad’s concern about age differences and divorce. I keep their love in my heart with every Italian meal! God bless ’em!!
Today at d’Verse we are trying a new form of poetry. Synesthesia is a neurological phenomenon in which stimulation of one sense leads to automatic, involuntary experiences of a second one. There are over 80 types of synesthesia described by science. Nearly every combination of sensory experiences or cognitive concepts is possible.
Seeing music as colors is one form of synesthesia. Perceiving letters as personalities is another one, or seeing numbers in color. Even hearing colors or touching smells.
How about tasting memories? Do you have any of those?
This post is a combination prompt: 1) My Madison Valley Writers’ Group Prompt was the title of the blog, and 2) the d’Verse prompt informed the style and content. It’s not poetry… but it may qualify as Synesthesia. What do you think?
Today my sis, Sally, died. She was only a year and a half older than I. As children, Mom often dressed us alike. People thought we were twins.
When you lose your only sibling, A part of you dies with her. Sally came every Thanksgiving from CA To spend the holiday with us in Montana.
Sally always came with an extra suitcase. She filled it with oregano that grew in her back yard. She spent most of the week here at the kitchen table or counter Picking the leaves off the oregano stems.
I have a couple of quart jars left of her herbs. When they are gone, another part of her Will disappear – You can’t find oregano that fresh – Not in a store, that’s for sure! Can you smell it?
Sally was a nut about holidays! She had a closet full of clothes Sorted by the holiday they represented And she loved every one of them.
She joined her nieces and nephews For Halloween and Christmas, For Easter and birthdays, and For special lunches and dinners.
Naturally Sally was there to celebrate her daughter, Jodie’s wedding. Here she is at the wedding reception, dancing with her nephew, our son, Ty, the daddy of those nieces and nephews. And she was there of course, for her grandson, Liam’s baptism.
Sally loved spending time with her grandson, Liam. During the last few years of her life, she moved from California to PA to be near her daughter, son-in-law, and her dear grandson, Liam.
Besides her family and holidays, Sally had a love of dogs. She inherited her poodle, Gigi, from our mom after Mom died. Gigi was stolen from Sally when Gigi was about 4 years old. Gigi was gone nine years, but Sally never gave up the idea of finding her!
Sure enough, nine years after the theft, Sally received a call from a veterinarian. Gigi had a chip, and when she was found wandering, dirty, toothless, and infected, the person who found her brought her to a vet. The chip had Sally’s number. Can you imagine her joy at that reunion after nine long years? Gigi lived to be 15. Dear friends of ours here adopted her and gave her a loving last 9 months of life when Sally moved to PA and could not take Gigi with her to the Masonic Home.
Although Alzheimer’s robbed my sis of her memory and ultimately of her ability to converse, she was tuned in and enjoyed the concert Liam and I presented in her nursing home last Thanksgiving. I am so glad Bob & I were able to go – and we had that time with her. My life is filled with wonderful memories of times we shared together.
Sally had a life filled with service to others through her church, the Hospital Auxiliary, the Girl Scouts (she led a troop for at least 50 years) and her favorite organizations, Rebekahs and Eastern Star.
Her life also was one of tragedy (her oldest daughter died at age 19 and her husband, Dave, was only 60 when he died suddenly and unexpectedly of a heart attack). But Sally was a trooper. She continued to volunteer and give of her time and talents to others.
I was blessed to grow up with a sister who had such a big, giving heart, She will be missed by all of us who loved her. But her spirit will live on.
I know her spirit will recognize mine when I join her in Heaven someday. Meantime, rest in peace, dear Sis. I will carry your love with me always.
Thanks for visiting today my friends. Treasure every sunrise. Enjoy every sunset. Tell your siblings how much you love them.
We were invited by dVerse Poetry to write a Prosery.
I forgot that prose is not written in poetry format. I wrote my 144 words as a poem. Let me change it toprose for the sake of following the instructions!!
Written for Monday’s Prosery prompt at dVerse. Kim hosts today, asking us to include the line “From across the room, we look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time” in a piece of flash fiction, exactly 144 words in length. The line is from D. H. Lawrence’s poem Humming Bird.
We see Ole Tom with his bent shoulders and thinning torso. We see his wind-weathered face and his thinning gray hair. He sits in my living room strumming his guitar, singing the fourteenth verse of an old folk song. He has a thousand such songs tucked into his head, along with the entire books of Matthew and Acts.
We see him as an ancient sage. We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time. His mind is sharper than mine ever was, and he shows no signs of stopping.
Each Christmas Ole Tom recites the Christmas story from the book of Acts, never reading, just expounding, amazing the congregation with his masterful memory. His is the epitome of a wise man: Ninety-three going on thirty. Never see him as old and never underestimate Ole Tom. Turn that telescope around!
Now you have been told which “line” was dictated to be used… did you guess it in the previous form where it was two lines in the poem?
Thanks for checking back in to see poetry changed to prose. Hugs, JanBeek
I decided to give Tanaga a try. You might enjoy having a go at it, too. Since my JanBeek topic is about Loving One Another, I decided to use love as my Tanaga rhyme.
For my country I have love It’s not peaceful like a dove Democracy needs a shove We need help from God above
I need a yard sign that reads Love is all the help one needs. “Unity is Power” Plant seeds. Turn off all divisive feeds.
Love, unity, and respect Go farther than you suspect. Wear them so others detect The LOVE than others neglect.
Have a Fabulous Friday. TGIF is my day To stand for the straight and gay In UNITY every day!
Just Love One Another – Say: “Do it the Tanaga Way!” Poetry tells you what may Spill from your dear heart today.
How will you show your love today? Try it with Tanaga!
Nothing makes a former teacher feel more loved than to be remembered and respected, loved, and visited by a former student. Do you have a favorite teacher you could honor somehow today? Maybe that could be your Tanaga topic!
See ya later. Love ya,JanBeek
P.S. Bob lost a cap on one tooth. It looks strange; that is the truth! Don’t tell him he looks uncouth. Ready for Halloween booth!
In March Susan got to visit With Phyllis, our dear sister, Before our dear friend’s life Ended on earth. Oh how we missed her!
Tomorrow we’ll remember Stories of Phyllis’ life And share them with each other. She was a loving wife.
Her husband died too young, Over thirty years past. Phyllis made his ring a heart And wore the love that last.
The heart hung ’round her neck All these many years – She willed it to her Yana Through memories and tears.
How many of us have A memory to share Of a loved one gone too soon To their heavenly home up there?
If life is lived so fully That when time comes, we are ready, It’s easier to say good-bye. Live your life with grace. Be steady!
Be loving and kind-hearted. Be compassionate to those you meet. Then, like my good friend, Phyllis, Your friends’ memories all will be sweet.
Her children know the treasure Of a mom whose love was always true. She shared her life with God and friends. I hope there is a friend like her for YOU!
Keep your memories of friends Alive and smiling in your heart. Make memories others will treasure. Today’s a perfect day to start.
Phyllis was a grown up who did not “act more like children than children” BUT She was one of those people who needed people… just as I am. We are/were “the luckiest people in the world!” We each have (had) the person who made us whole… … thank God for that “very special person.”
Share your memories of a loved one with me. I’d love to read some of your thoughts on this subject in the comments below. Hugs, JanBeek