Funeral lunch

A funeral lunch today for 125 mourners.  Many hands did a good job.  A prayer by ladies of love and care for well being of pair of hands that were missing - and missed.
Spent the evening helping to make 20 gallons of Jenice Westbrook's spaghetti sauce recipe for the Corn Days Spaghetti Dinner.

A Place For Love

I came upon a place today
Secluded and serene
A soft space beneath the trees
Where two could be unseen.

The sunlight dappled through the pines
And cast its warmth around
Rusty red, old needles lay
And there was not a sound.

I found myself with you, my love
My mind brought you to stand
Among the grove with me alone
And we were hand in hand.

We sat upon this sacred spot
We talked of hopes and cares
We laughed, we hurt, we cried, we dreamt
As only lovers dare

And closeness came to us today
A unity of two
As time went past, we knew that we
Would be among the few

Who find true love within their lives
The other half complete
The half full glass of love and life
Flows over, is replete.

We kissed a kiss of deep friendship
Of love beneath the pines
And then we went our separate ways
Together, one last time.

The Dance

He opened his car door and slowly arose
Shook off the age stiffness and
Pushed his glasses up on his nose
Walked very slowly around to her side
Using left hand to steady himself
He opened the door for his bride

She turned in her seat and slowly got out
Her husband's hands guiding her up and about
He stepped back a little, I noticed
As she straightened and fussed
A small wrinkle in her blouse
Her hair a bit mussed
Then they came back together 
And walked with arms hooked
Into the office for appointments they'd booked

My heart fairly leapt with joy at this sight
This tableau of devotion and love burning bright
And I knew, as I realized I'd spilled on my pants,
I had just witnessed the most beautiful dance.

The Promise - Saturday, 3-August-2013

Peace be with you, my son
    I have no words to comfort you
Just know that I am, always was and always will be
    Each of my children is special to me
And you are no different
     You are hurting now and will for awhile longer
But you will come through it
     You will be a better, softer, more loving man 
As a result of this
     You will be more giving and forgiving
You will be kinder and more compassionate
     You will love deeper
You will understand

Dogs Go To Heaven

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The More Things Change

Today is the 4th of August in the year of our Lord 2013. This marks the 11th month of my 61st year and life is an adventure to be cherished. As I continue on the path set before me, I wonder who I shall meet today. Someone I can smile at or perhaps offer a word of encouragement. This morning, I offered a simple "good job" to a young lady performing her allotted task as the church emptied out and she beamed up at me and said a quiet "thank you." Kindness matters and though I can be a horse's rear end - those who truly know me know that that is not my heart. My heart is kind and I care about others - deeply. It has been quite a while since I have posted anything. That is about to change. The creative muse is strong in me. I have missed her. I welcome her back.

For Dawn Marie Catherine - to honor your brother.

A man often asks himself, “Who might I be?” defining himself by a role
Of all the parts he plays in his life, none will define his true soul
Husband or son, brother or coach, worker or father of two
None of the titles, labels and names will speak of his goodness on cue

Answers to a question like that need help and assistance to learn
For boys are raised up to protect and provide and are not often taught to discern
Not without wishes, remorse and some ill, a man lives his life best he can
Sometimes his best may seem very little as castles constructed of sand

But the grains that made his castle remain, they never go far or away
His ideas and passions, values and creeds remain with those who must stay
I didn’t know Douglas so my thoughts may be wrong but sharing these things I will do.
How can he write this? How dare he, you ask? I write what he feels like through you.

Compassionate, caring, with love on his sleeve.
Wry sense of humor, absurd
To those who surround him, he lightens their load
With a smile, a touch and a word

Those gestures of care and of giving
With zeal and his obvious pride
Hide a deep side that’s quite often missed
Except by those with whom he has cried

Good with a story or twist of a phrase
Able to laugh and enjoy
Not being the easiest one to believe
That’s ‘cause he’s your brother, a boy

Wind-in-his-face kind of a guy
Loving the turns and the bends
Straight lines are boring, the reasoning here
Is that you can see both the ends

Especially with those he is close to
Able to kid and cajole
A memory of faux pas’ long ago past
For that is part of his role

Complex is defined by numbers of threads
Woven and tangled by time
Combined with experience, weakness and strength
God’s loom of uniqueness, sublime ©