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Blog ID: 2167 - Gramdma's Hands - 2009-03-22
Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands.

 When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK.

 Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. 'Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she said in a clear strong voice.

  'I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I explained to her.

 'Have you ever looked at your hands,' she asked. 'I mean really looked at your hands?

 I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making.

 Grandma smiled and related this story:

 'Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.

 'They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back.

 As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war.

 'They have been dirty, scraped and raw , swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.

  They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse.  'They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.  They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body.

 They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.

 'These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life.  But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of God.

 I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home. When my hands are hurt or sore or when I  stroke the face of my children and husband I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God.

  I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face. 

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Blog ID: 2156 - Wild Party at My House - 2009-02-16

HOW TRUE IT IS

 

Another year has passed

And we're all a little older.

 

Last summer felt hotter

And winter seems much colder.

 

I rack my brain for happy thoughts,

To put down on my pad,

 

But lots of things, That come to mind

Just make me kind of sad.

 

There was a time not long ago

When life was quite a blast.

 

Now I fully understand

About 'Living in the Past'.

 

We used to go to friends homes,

Baseball games and lunches.

 

Now we go to therapy, to hospitals,

And after-funeral brunches.

 

We used to have hangovers,

From parties that were gay.  

 

Now we suffer body aches

And sleep the night away.

 

We used to go out dining,

And couldn't get our fill.

 

Now we ask for doggie bags,

Come home and take a pill.

 

We used to travel often

To places near and far.

 

Now we get backaches

From riding in the car.

 

We used to go out shopping

For new clothing at the Mall

 

But, now we never bother...

All the sizes are too small.

 

That, my friend is how life is,

And now my tale is told.

 

So, enjoy each day and live it up.....

Before you're too damn old!!

 

 

You pass this way only once so enjoy it while you can; Live A Lot, Laugh A Lot and Love A Lot!

 

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Blog ID: 2045 - Slow Dance - 2008-10-11
Have you ever watched kids On a merry-go-round?

 Or listened to the rain Slapping on the ground?

 Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?

Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?

You better slow down.

 Don't dance so fast. Time is short.

The music won't last.

 Do you run through each day On the fly?

 When you ask How are you?

 Do you hear the reply?

 When the day is done

 Do you lie in your bed With the next hundred chores Running through your head?

 You'd better slow down

 Don't dance so fast.

Time is short. The music won't last.

Ever told your child, We'll do it tomorrow?

And in your haste, Not see his sorrow?

 Ever lost touch,

Let a good friendship die

Cause you never had time To call and say, 'Hi'

You'd better slow down.

 Don't dance so fast.

Time is short . The music won't last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere

You, miss half the fun of getting there.

 When you worry and hurry through your day,

 It is like an unopened gift....Thrown away.

Life is not a race.

 Do take it slower Hear the music

Before the song is over.

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Blog ID: 1959 - Thoughts of My Own - 2008-08-30
Cowboy Poetry

Sometimes thoughts make me happy And there are thoughts that make me sad And thoughts I just want to sit down and cry And thoughts that make me glad

But I like thoughts that are real And thoughts of just being alone But I’m just sitting here thinking ‘cause these are thoughts of my own

 I always think of my old horse Dan My dog, and all my friends I like thoughts of a summer time rainbow And when the day begins

I may be thinking of the summer time Or winter weather that chills my bones Or I may be thinking of ole santa clause ‘cause these are thoughts of my own

I have thoughts of just going to church And singing an old gospel song Or just thinking of something to do ‘cause these are thoughts of my own

I think of a shady place with water And birds singing up in the trees Or watch a beautiful field of flowers Rippling in the summer breeze

 I’ve thought of a lot of things in life While just thinking all alone And my thoughts they really count for me ‘cause these are thoughts of my own

 I could be thinking of some nice lady Or maybe why the sky is blue But to tell the truth, I think I’m right ‘cause today, I’m thinking of you

http://www.wesellnmail.com/

http://www.mypowermall.com/BIZ/Home/144389

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Blog ID: 1901 - Huntin Bear - 2008-08-13

Cowboy Poetry 



Away up high, near the mountain rim,

Two cowboys came a ridin’

Huntin’ cattle that had strayed,

Where they thought they might be hidin’.

 

Now, Newt and Three-Toed Bob,

Was a ridin’ up the trail,

When they seen somethin’ big and black

That looked like, that it came from hell.

 

It was a bear, without a doubt,

So, they chase it, on horse back,

Three-Toed Bob, was proud of his catch,

He didn’t want to let it go,

By then he realized, that turnin’ it loose

Was harder, than when it was roped

 

Newt got scared, and run away,

That’s the last time he seen Bob.

‘cause ropin’ barndin’ and markin’ a bear,

that just wasn’t his job.

 

Three-toed Bob, had dallied his rope,

Around his saddle horn,

He was tryin’ to get his dally loose,

Cussin’ that bear for being born.

 

Timber was crackin’, and rocks was a fallin’,

As they came off the mountain rim.

Bob and his horse, was all skinned up,

But that bear was chasin’ them.

 

Bob run his horse, across the valley,

And up another mountain side.

Three-Toed Bob was still hangin’n on

But that bear was stride for stride.

 

So, if you’re ever in the high country,

And hear a scream that’ll stand your hair.

It’ll be three-Toed Bob and that old horse

Tryin’ to turn loose of that grizzly bear.

 

http://www.wesellnmail.com/

 

http://www.mypowermall/BIZ/Home/144389

 

 

 

 

 

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