Once upon a time I was retired. But I came to live with my younger daughter and homeschooled her oldest son for two years. He went to school for 8th grade and now is in high school. I get to spend lots of time with my other three grandchildren. I write poetry and enjoy making books of them. I don't live with my daughter now; I have my own apartment which I love, and my own little kitty, which I named Shere Khan. However, unlike his name sake, he is not a brave, mean kitty. But I like it that way! I live only a few miles from my daughter and her family. I wish my other daughter was closer, but two hours away is not bad. Her three boys are all teenagers now. Its fun to be a grandma! My life is good.
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Thanksgiving Day is over, but thanksgiving never should be. I posted this picture of Christmas in lights to remind us: the most wonderful reason to be thankful is that God Himself came down to earth and took on human form. Because of Jesus coming to earth, suffering, and dying, we have access to God through Him. That is the greatest reason to give thanks that I can ever think of!
A story of life
A story of death
A story of earth
A story of heaven
A story of hope
A story of life
God’s story to us
The story of Jesus
And so we end a day with the special memory of the Terrorists’ attack on our country on September 11, 2001, It was an event that never fades from the memory of those who lived through that day. As I remember, I pray for God’s grace to protect our country and draw us back to Him.
“God Bless America by Irving Berlin”
“God Bless America, land that I love.
Stand beside her and guide her
Through the night with a light from above.
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans white with foam.
God Bless America, my home sweet home.
God Bless America, my home sweet home.”
Today, we in the United States celebrated the 242nd birthday of our great nation. I am so thankful that He has blessed us and I can worship Him freely. What a gift from our Creator! As I view events in many parts of Africa and Asia and watch Christians suffer, losing everything and even their lives for their faith, I pray for them, wondering why it is so for them and we are so blessed. But I realize that God does not ask me to always understand, but to be thankful for His blessings.
While Father’s Day has passed I still wanted to bring up this little tribute to dad’s everywhere as a Blast Of The Past. While it’s a tribute to every father, it’s one especially for my dad. It would have been my dad’s 97th birthday this month and of course it’s one of the times I think of him the most. All those little special moments come to mind and it’s beautiful to relive them by telling the stories to my children. Stories just like the one about the ant hill…
My daughter was sharing something that happened with me the other day and one phrase was, “and this little old lady”.
“Little old lady,” I interrupted, laughing. “That’s me. I am your little old lady.” I don’t think she realized I qualified even though I have been retired almost 10 years. I said, “Yes, when they talk about elderly parents, that’s me.”
I don’t mind growing old. I just pray I will not become a crotchety old person, but one who has learned to roll with life’s punches and still reflect the joy of Jesus.
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Well, not quite. But just three days left around here! One friend I talked to said her daughter was already missing school. So I ask my grandchildren if they are ready to go back to school instead of having summer. You guessed right. “No way, Grandma!” My daughter is thinking the same thing. She teaches middle school. She likes her job but confessed that she is looking forward to summer.
My oldest grandson is graduating the end of the month. He will be headed to college next fall. How fast they grow!
How many memories I have of my dear sweet mama, now in heaven four years. To honor her, I want to repeat a poem I posted awhile back because it has such good memories of who she was. She was a delightful lady, full of fun, music, and love of others.
Your greatgrandson is only four
but he’s heard the songs from the forties.
“Abba Dabba Honeymoon,”
“Me and My Shadow,”
“Playmate, Come Out And Play with Me,”
“Teddy Bear’s Picnic,”
songs you sang to Gayle and me
when she was three and I was four
Maybe someday he’ll get to meet Mrs. Doodenlopper.
She used to come take care of Gayle and me.
She looked like you.
We said, “You’re our mother!”
She always replied, “Oh no,
she’s at the store. She’ll be home soon.”
Then we would have tea
when Gayle was five and I was six
He’ll never get to see the doll furniture your made
for Gayle and me
from orange crates
with a hammer, nails, and your butcher knife
when you were pregnant with Wayne.
It made a dandy kitchen with
empty thread spools for knobs.
We wore them out playing house
when Gayle was six and I was seven