On Growing Old (Or Not)


Recently, a fellow blogger spoke about growing older and remembering things past. It reminded me of a poem I posted in 2014 along the same lines. Here is “The Me I Used to Be”. Thank you, Butch, for the reminder that we can live in both worlds…young and old. Actually, scriptures speaks of this also…”Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.”( 2 Corinthians 4:16)

THE ME I USED TO BE

I miss the me I used to be,

the things I used to do,

I miss the energy and verve,

the vim and vigor too.

I miss the way my feet could dance,

the way my body bent,

contorted to the Limbo

(under the pole I went).

I miss the feel of garden soil

where once my hands would dig

while scrunching down to plant the seeds

before my joints got big.

Yes, I miss the me I used to be

and all the things I did,

but even though the body’s old,

inside I’m still a kid.

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A Heavenly Tribute


“A hockey stick-shaped cloud seen in Saskatoon and shared by Canadian hockey star Hayley Wickenheiser is being regarded as a tribute to the victims of the Humboldt Broncos bus crash that killed 16 people.” This is a news clip I saw on Twitter last night and I find it very comforting.

 Look up at the heavens and see; gaze at the clouds so high above you. Job 35:5  NIV

Remembering a Pet


Awhile back I posted a poem written by my sister about the passing of her pet dog, Farleigh. Today I’d like to share her poem to Jesse, another pet she said goodbye to.

In Remembrance of Jessie
November 16, 1989 – April 24, 2001
When you flashed me a look from your smiling Jessie eyes
I knew you were telling me your last goodbyes
You were telling me not to grieve
Now that the time had come for you to leave
When you flashed me a look from your sweet smiling eyes
The time we spent together went by fast
I can see you again as I look back over the past
The games of ball we used to play
You kept me playing night and day
You never seemed to tire
We walked the lake on days both hot and cold
We both walked slower as we grew old
We ate ice cream cones all year long
You listened while I played a song
On an accordion no longer new
You served humanity in a very special way
You birthed twenty-one puppies and gave them all away
To CVC to do their best
I hope that most passed the test
And became the best dog guides that they could be
Now that God has called you home
I walk the lake alone
I still think of you
And the things we used to do
And I’ll always remember your smiling Jessie eyes
 ©Mary Frances Martin
 
 

Lest We Forget


Please join with me in remembering…lest we forget…

IN FLANDERS FIELDS POEM
The World’s Most Famous WAR MEMORIAL POEM
By Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

Lieutenant Colonel John McCraeIn Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead: Short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved: and now we lie
In Flanders fields!

Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you, from failing hands, we throw
The torch: be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die,
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields

Composed at the battlefront on May 3, 1915
during the second battle of Ypres, Belgium

Creating Memories


Re-blogged from Wordsmith’s Desk

Wordsmith's Desk

Each day of our lives, we are creating memories for tomorrow. In the daily routine, we don’t often look at it this way. More times than not, we don’t see it until it’s too late; a memory that you’d just as soon forget has been made.

We live our lives together each day, acting and interacting in each other’s lives. Then comes a day when one or the other is no longer here. Death has taken someone from our lives. The memories are as good as their going to get and there will be no more.

Maybe a bad memory was made, but now it’s too late to erase it with apologies and amends. Death has sealed forever a lifetime of memories. We live with what we created…we reap what we sow…we regret the rest of our life, a memory we could have changed, but didn’t.

Memories are all that…

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