Without Regrets...

How beautifully leaves grow old. 

From green to red to shades of gold. 

Full and vibrant in summer sun

'Til the fall winds come and they are done. 

How beautifully leaves grow old. 

As summer heat turns to autumn cold.
No whining complaint is ever heard
No sorrow or regret, no bitter word.

How beautifully leaves grow old. 

To subtle hues no longer bold. 

For all a lesson to be learned, 

When our time comes, be not concerned. 

Another Saturday Centus from our beloved Mrs. Jenny...the prompt this week in red above, as always, plus 100 words. The poem was inspired by the words of Dieter F. Uchtdorf in his Saturday morning talk at the semi-annual General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in which he spoke of how we can better live life without regrets.

Be sure to stop by and see what the other Centusians did with this week's prompt by clicking HERE...and then...get off-line, go spend some time with family and loved ones running and playing in the fall leaves or doing whatever brings you joy.

Certainties

Ironically, even the origin of the quote, "The only two certainties in life are death and taxes", often attributed to Mark Twain, is uncertain. Some say it comes from Benjamin Franklin while others disagree, claiming different sources still. Nonetheless, the saying pretty much holds true.

We woke up to uncertain weather this morning. We've had spring-like temperatures recently, but this morning it was snowing and cold once again. 

The otherwise quiet morning was broken with news of one of life's certainties when we got the call telling us that Uncle Donald had passed away. He left this mortal life only days short of his 88th birthday, pretty much as he had lived it. Peacefully, without complaint at the hand he was dealt and mostly alone. 

He was a sweet man who adored the family he had. He never married, never had children, but visibly loved his siblings and their children and grandchildren. He served our country courageously and fought in the Battle of the Bulge in WWII. He'd had hard times and was no stranger to loneliness, but he always had a smile and we never heard him complain (except perhaps about the gravy at the nursing home in which he lived).

He didn't have much in the way of worldly things. His most prized possessions were the many photos of extended family that adorned the door and walls of his small room.

The words of the hymn, Come Ye Disconsolate (author: Thomas Moore, 1779-1852), seem appropriate.

Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish;
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here bring your wounded hearts; here tell your anguish.
Earth has no sorrow that heav’n cannot heal.

Joy of the desolate, Light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure!
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
“Earth has no sorrow that heav’n cannot cure.”

Here see the Bread of Life; see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God, pure from above.
Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing

Earth has no sorrow but heav’n can remove.

We love you, Uncle Donald, and we'll miss your sweet smile at our family gatherings.

Uncle Donald

March 28, 1924 - March 18, 2012

On Genealogy

It's Saturday Centus time again. If you're new to this, each week dear Mrs. Jenny Matlock gives us a little prompt to incorporate into a tasty (or not so) piece of writing (I begrudgingly do the writing but like to use the prompt for photo ideas, too). She thought she was being nice to us with the prompt (in red below) this week. Hmmm, not so sure about that... after all, what would you do with it? (Oh, 100 words, any style...have at it!)

SH: Whatcha doin', Mom?

Me: trying to do a little genealogy.

SH: Oh. What’s so hard about that?

Me: I know when and where most of the family was born. But trying to figure out the rest of the details is a little harder.

SH: We know where all the bodies are buried, right? It should be pretty straightforward. You know, go to the cemetery, look at the headstones, all that jazz.

Me (laughing): Oh yea. We know where they are alright. On the shelf in Peter’s closet, that’s where. Mom and Dad since 1998 and 2009, and Oma’s still at the cemetery waiting since 1957 for someone to pick her up.

A partially true story. Actually, it's all true except for the conversation with my daughter...funny family I have. Mom and Dad really are still in the closet at my bro's house and Grandma, still waiting for someone to come claim her ashes. Sad, but true. I guess we place more value on the soul than the shell. 


To see what strange and wonderful things the other Centusians had to say on this subject, click on over to Mrs. Jenny's.

All Good Dogs Go to Heaven

Back in my childhood home. My daughter lives there now with her family. It's always a little odd being there...good, because it means I'm with the ones I love most, but odd because there's so much history there.

Today Delilah died. She was the last of the three dogs my daughter and son-in-law have had during the time they've known each other. This is the first time they will be without animals...well, four-legged ones. They have two little monkeys of their own now.

Delilah lived a good long life. My daughter rescued her from some guy on a street corner in LA 12 years ago. She was a sweet dog, although at times a bit neurotic. But she was much loved and she will be missed.

I'm sure I have photos of Delilah...somewhere...but not on this computer. Click HERE to read my daughter's tribute to her.

Farewell Delilah. Say hello to Sammy and Mav and Ben and Dusty and all the other friends we've known and loved. We'll see you again some day.

Corinthians 13:12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

Remembering Matt

I fell asleep on the couch last night. I'd never slept there before. When I awoke, the first morning light was just beginning to peek through the window. I lay on my back and stared at the outline of the lights above me and the corner of the window. It was lovely light, and although it was a sight unfamiliar to me, there was something very comfortable about it.

Today I learned of the sudden death of a young (much too young) friend. He was a smart, kind, gentle person...someone with great promise. His passing is a tremendous shock and loss to all those who knew him. When I think of him now, I imagine that he has awakened in a place unfamiliar yet comfortable too. It makes me smile in spite of my sorrow. We love you, Matt, and always will.