Today marks Day 32 of my husband’s hospital confinement. He has been transferred to a long-term facility and is in the CCU ward. My heart aches and there is no way to hold back the tears.
To my wonderful husband of soon to be 29 years (July 10). . .
’Til the Last Time
Seems like yesterday
You held my hand
For the first time
We met while both working for the railroad.
I trembled You smiled We kissed
a soft kiss. a tender kiss. a kiss always remembered.
All the while
My hand in yours
Your hand in mine
Throughout the years
Sorrows took their toll
Yet knowing love endures
You trembled I cried We kissed
a soft kiss. a tender kiss. a kiss always remembered.
All the while Your hand in mine My hand in yours
In all the tomorrows
We’ll hold hands
’Til the last time
We’ll tremble We’ll smile We’ll kiss
a soft kiss. a tender kiss. a kiss always remembered.
“Walk among the wilds, gaze at the sky, understand nature and feel the spirits as they pass you by.” ~SLS
Stop and Smell the Flowers
Papa walked along life’s rocky path
Where no flowers lay beneath his feet
Tired and weary bones from toil and pain
Found rest only during winter’s sleep
End of day brought Papa home
To Mama waiting at the door
With a faint-hearted smile he entered
Then wanted to leave no more
No dust, grime, or smell of sweat
Not a place drab and dreary
Sweet fragrances of lilac and roses
Made the air bright and cheery
Mama’s laugh made Papa smile
Ending the drudgery of the day
Early morning sun came too soon
Once again finding Papa on his way
He stopped and smelled the flowers
Along side the dusty road
On the way home he picked a few
To lightened his heavy load
A tradition handed down…
Mama worked hard each day
Some days ready to explode
Papa brought Mama flowers
To lightened her heavy load
Nature’s Doorway video poem was created and posted last year but sometimes repeat performances are called for at just the right time! After viewing the video, take a few moments to step outside and enjoy all the beauty around you!
Awakenings honors our soldiers, past, present and future…without them, America would not be the America as we know it today. Next time you see a soldier, shake his/her hand and express how much you appreciate the services performed and sacrifices endured by each and every one. They are the life’s blood of American freedom!
Sharla Shults‘s insight:
Honor, respect and support the United States of America military!
What was my favorite book as a child? That is a question which requires little to no pondering. The one which most impacted me is the story of Heidi written in 1880 by Swiss author Johanna Spyri. Now don’t get confused here…that does not mean I was a child in the late 1800s. Let’s see, that would make me 133 years old. Nah! Not yet ❤
If you are not familiar with Heidi, it is a story of a young girl who at five years old was placed under her grandfather’s care because of the early deaths of her parents. Suddenly she found herself living in the Swiss Alps in the clutches of an old man who really did not want to be bothered. Her grandfather was a reclusive. Events of the story, however, warmed the old geezer’s heart and his life forever changed. Heidi became a ray of sunshine and a breath of fresh air marking the end of a secluded life.
It has been a lo-o-o-ong time since I read this little story but it will always have a place in my heart. I think I was saddened from the beginning because of the loss of her parents. I could not understand what life would be like without parents since I was so close to my dad and mom. Then, of course, there was the imagery. I can still envision the beautiful mountains, the grassy hills as Heidi playfully ran, the goats and simply the essence of serenity. Even Heidi’s room is vividly planted in my mind with the tiny single window through which she viewed her wondrous new world.
Anyone reading this brief memory about Heidi is encouraged to find a copy for your child or perhaps grandchild. It teaches compassion within a simple life without any of the modern amenities of today. It is childlike innocence in its purest form. Having written this, I find myself wanting to read Heidi again, only now it will be as a grandmother reading it to my granddaughters.
I have always had an affinity for Switzerland and I attribute my feelings to reading this heart-rending story as a child. In the early 70s, I did get the opportunity to travel to Europe. During my travels, one of my most memorable sights was the Matterhorn. Perhaps sights of the Swiss Alps were calling me home to memories long ago established but never forgotten.
What’s in a Book?
Pictures, stories, poems and more
A world opens up to explore
Animals, insects and frogs thrive
Visions of numbers come alive
Bedtime stories and fairy tales
Sugarplums and fairies cure all ails
Mystery and amazement to ponder
Imagination makes one wonder
Lessons to be learned, places to practice
Respect, charity, humility and justice
Love and honor, experiences to encounter
Emotions bring tears or laughter
Travel back in time, forward into the future
Much to explore about life and nature
So many questions, where to find answers
Turn the pages for new adventures
Watch the gleam in a child’s eyes
For a ‘novel’ idea, try this exercise
Find a book every chance you can
Place it right into a child’s hand
Even in times of hardships and sadness one can find beauty. That beauty to me is the beauty of heart. While tears may seem to never subside, the heart still remains strong within its rhythmical beats of life. Take life one heartbeat at a time relishing in each moment, never forgetting you are beautiful! Just stop & listen for a while.
Life has loveliness to sell, all beautiful and splendid things, blue waves whitened on a cliff, soaring fire that sways and sings, and children’s faces looking up, holding wonder like a cup. —Sara Teasdale (American lyrical poet, 1884–1933)
Treasures of the Heart: Moments Captured
Life is a trail of tears, the will to cope
A mountain of discomfort based on hope
It is a highway of dreams, a road very demanding
Out of balance at times, but not without understanding
Along life’s journey appear visions of despair
Wants and desires, times that seem totally unfair
While the expedition can be arduous and cruel
It can also be full of beauty shiny as a jewel
Life’s bounties offer gifts to lovingly share
Ready to be opened and handled with care
Its treasures of the heart tenderly unfold
Becoming moments captured within the soul
A kitten’s purr or a dog standing guard
These are life’s blessings in our own backyard
Images snapped with the blinking of an eye
Are stored in the mind’s diary never to die
Family and friends enjoy a wonderful relationship
Rallying around a campfire in fun and fellowship
Reminiscent of times past—love, lives and such
Stories echo memories thought of so much
Life is an incredible album of sad and joyful times
Echoing of discordant notes and melodious chimes
Count not the yearly months, weeks or even days –
Capture the moments encountered within each phase
Happy Easter to all and may your day be filled with blessings beyond words!
We have been blessed with my husband now off life support, out of ICU and resting in a private room. If fact, he was helped out of the bed yesterday and has begun sitting in a chair. He is very weak and cannot walk on his own. We still have a long road ahead but the way is filled with light and hope for a full recovery. Thank you all for your intercessory prayers, thoughts and concerns.
Not being in the frame of mind lately to keep up with catnip, I am reposting Easter greetings from last year.
Regardless of the year, the message is still the same!
Sometimes we ponder and ponder in hopes of eventually mustering the right words to tender an emotion, offer inspiration or purpose newfound knowledge. That is exactly where I found myself today as thoughts were enveloped in the “spiritual essence of Easter.”
Ah-h-h-h! The wonders of the Internet directed my fingers toward exploring its limitless boundaries in search of something overpowering. Webcrawlers fetched page after page delivering data, information, pictures, videos, etc. At the end of the day, a plethora of windows had opened stroking my heartstrings with sights and sounds of wonder and passion. For every time a window opened a new window was discovered that led to another window and . . . Oh, my! Sounds like something venomous caught in a silky web waiting to be a tasty appetizer while life begins to ebb! Doesn’t it?
Needless to say, my efforts were not in vain. The words of my heart had already been written and laid to rest upon the sands of time to be revisited and never forgotten. Now, I share with you, my readers and followers, what thoughts I discovered on the Easter Lily. . .
“Rightly the lily is the flower of Easter. It lies buried in the ooze of pond or stream. There is the grave of the dead lily that appeals to nostril or eye. But silently the forces of life are dark and the damp to prepare a glorious resurrection. A shaft of green shoots upward toward the sun. This is followed by a cluster of tiny buds. One day the sun smiles with special warmth upon the dank, black ooze, and there leaps into the light a creature of light and beauty; it is the lily, an angel of the earth, whose look is light.”
How did the lily come to grace the fields of America? The cultivation of lilies did not originate in the United States for the lily is a native of Japan. History reveals the account of a WW I soldier, Luis Houghton, bringing a suitcase full of hybrid lily bulbs to the South coast of Oregon in 1919. Houghton freely distributed bulbs to his friends and neighbors. Because of the events of WW II, the Japanese source of bulbs was abruptly cut off. Therefore, those growing lilies as a hobby noted the value of lily bulbs sky-rocketing and many decided to go into business on their own. At that time, Easter lily bulbs were known as “White Gold,” resulting in cultivators attempting to cash in on the crop. By 1945, there were about 1,200 growers producing bulbs up and down the Pacific coast, from Vancouver, Canada to Long Beach, California.
Of course, this post cannot end without my own personal atonement to. . .
The Lily. . .
Sounding of trumpets Extol the most high Rallying a crowd No one should deny
Calls to drill and battle Resound a time nigh Echoing surrender Or a battle cry
No white, just crimson Adorn the fields Beds of blood and bone A battle yields
Within times’ passing Ghastly signs disappear Blades of bright green Awaken thoughts held dear
Slender stalks emerge Rising from earthy graves Flaunting scaly bulbs Pompous as ocean waves
Milky-white trumpets Surge with praises toward the sky Spiritual essence of Easter Extols the most high
“If we treated everyone we meet with the same affection we bestow upon our favorite cat, they, too, would purr.”
—Martin Buxbaum (Author, photographer, artist and humorist, 1912–1991)
“Oh yea, they say ‘life goes on’ long after the thrill of living is gone.”
This is one of Kellie’s favorite Mellancamp songs, Jack and Diane, that she says leaves her pining for those long lost summers of youth and wishing she hadn’t been in such a hurry.
What does this lyric mean to you?
When I was a child
Thrills were in toys
Barbie dolls, Play-Doh
Anything but boys
Later as a teen
Thrills ran with friends
Drive-ins, roller skates
The rouse a kiss sends
Summers came and went
Thrills gone too fast
Boys, boys, boys
None that would last
As a young adult
Thrills & chills hit the scene
Fast cars, night clubs
Anything in between
Summers still came
Thrills led abroad
Oceans of pleasure
Applaud, applaud
Then came thirties
Thrills took a turn
Heartache after heartache
Made the heart yearn
Finally one summer
Thrill of it all
Set my heart afire
My soulmate’s call
Ah! But forties
Thrills at their best
Children of my own
Those were life’s test
Summers came and went
Thrills beyond measure
Swimming, playing in the sun
Search for life’s treasure
The nifty fifties
Thrills beyond compare
Kids grown and gone
Much music in the air
Summers brought joy
Thrills forever after
Wedding bells rang
Grandbabies thereafter
Sixties are here
Thrills still abound
Two cats, a bird
One funny hound
With each day
Life quickly marches on
New sights, new sounds
Long after thrills are gone
catnipoflife 