My dear, do you remember when we would look up at the sky as kids, watching as the birds would fly by, laying in the cotton field - hoping to not get caught as the days,weeks,months would pass by?
My dear, do you remember when we said “I DO” in that old library that we both loved, where I knew my life would be forever changed?
My dear, do you remember when you gave birth to our first child while I was jumping around with excitement?
My dear, do you remember playing around with the grandchildren as we all rolled and laughed uncontrollably on the ground?
My dear, do you remember the day when we said, “Congrats!” to our eldest child who would be going away to college, but we wanted him so desperately to stay?
My dear, do you remember as we laughed and happy cried as we cut our cake for our 50th anniversary party by the beautiful lakeside?
My dear, do you remember what you said to me on your deathbed?
You said, “My dear it’s been great, our eldest of the grandchildren will be turning 8. I remember the days when we would laugh until our tummies hurt, I remember the days when the birds would fly by as we laid in the cotton field wishing for a new life. I remembered saying “I DO” as I looked into your eyes and saw our future living within you. But now,my love it’s time for me to fly. With all my love I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”
My dear always remember this: I’ll always miss you; I’ll always love you; and this isn’t a goodbye. (Just an until we meet again. )
The color of springtime is in the flowers; the color of winter is in the imagination. ~Terri Guillemets
Three things cannot be hidden long: the sun, the moon, and the truth.
Today I received a fun letter from a very dear friend of mine and in it this letter had a msg which was in code, this code I needed to break in order to see what his message was to me. So here I am spending my whole Saturday night trying to decode what my sweet friend had to say. In the end the msg was very, very sweet and tugged at my many heart-strings: THE BOY DID GOOD.
I asked you to walk beside me, but you just shook your head.
You chose to walk behind me and follow me instead.
You thought I knew everything and every little thought that ran through your head.
But all you got from me was a confused look instead.
It was clear that you had other plans, plans that did not include me.
I thought I gave you everything yet you chose to run away.
My love was not enough as I flashback to that fateful day.
I thought I’d receive 1 final goodbye, but yet you had nothing and fed me lies.
I thought you gave me everything, everything including your heart. Yet I was blinded by how slowly we were falling apart.
You thought I knew everything and every thought that ran through your head, yet all you kept getting was a confused and hurt look instead.
You could have given me everything, everything including your heart, but you had other plans, plans that would tear us apart.
Those plans were to walk away and to escape and leave me with a broken heart as you secretly selected a girl, a girl who would NOW be your fresh start.
Though years have passed and you are no longer here, the thoughts of us that ran through your head are now crystal clear.
As I think back to that fateful day as I watched you run away,not turning back, the pain I felt was not from losing you, but for me, as I slowly started to realize my new reality.
I asked you to walk beside me but you just shook your head.
You chose to walk away from me to start a new life instead.
BY: Shannon Joyner
“Early youth is a baffling time. The present moment is nice but it does not last. Living in it is like waiting in a junction town for the morning limited; the junction may be interesting but some day you will have to leave it and you do not know where the limited will take you. Sooner or later you must move down an unknown road that leads beyond the range of the imagination, and the only certainty is that the trip has to be made. In this respect early youth is exactly like old age; it is a time of waiting before a big trip to an unknown destination. The chief difference is that youth waits for the morning limited and age waits for the night train.”
― Bruce Catton, Waiting for the Morning Train
We were such a big family Daddy, why did you have to leave?
Daddy, was it because of me?
I love you and don’t want us to hurt, Mommy is here and so is little Luke.
My baseball bat is in the closet waiting for you to return.
My baseball hat and baseball glove are both worn out, just like you said they should.
I know it’s been awhile Daddy but you are welcome here.
My books are on the bookshelf, dusty, and waiting to be read.
Tears are running down my face Daddy waiting to be wiped.
I’m waiting to hear your voice, deep, and full of life.
I know you are coming back Daddy even though this may not be true.
Little Luke is in his room wondering also too.
Mommy is a wreck, walking back and forth, she’s hurting Daddy what can you do?
My hugs are not enough Daddy, we really need you here, but you are with GOD now just like I knew you would.
Mommy is very proud of you Daddy, just like she should….
But I am still confused Daddy,why did you have to leave?
Is it because of me?
I wish that I could see you.
Please come visit me.
I will lie asleep in dream Daddy of all the things that we could do.
My baseball bat and baseball glove are all worn out and ready to be used.
My books are on the bookshelf, dusty, and waiting to be read.
We were such a perfect family Daddy why did GOD have to take you from me?
My dreams are not enough I am barely hanging on. Just please always know this Daddy, I will always miss you and love you very much.
By: Shannon Joyner
“It is necessary to find one’s own way in New York. New York City is not hospitable. She is very big and she has no heart. She is not charming. She is not sympathetic. She is rushed and noisy and unkempt, a hard, ambitious, irresolute place, not very lively, and never gay. When she glitters she is very, very bright, and when she does not glitter she is dirty. New York does nothing for those of us who are inclined to love her except implant in our hearts a homesickness that baffles us until we go away from her, and then we realize why we are restless. At home or away, we are homesick for New York not because New York used to be better and not because she used to be worse but because the city holds us and we don’t know why.”
― Maeve Brennan
The Irish roots of merriment.