This is hysterical!

Among the Things I Don't Deserve...

... is the friend I have in Willena. I can't help boasting of her after receiving what follows. This is a tribute, not to me, but to what a wonderful person she is and how blessed I am to have her for a friend. She captured me sentiments exactly.

Without Goodbye

Without goodbye there is no hello...
no anticipation for months before,
no rush of joy at first sight of her dear face,
no warm and welcoming hugs.

Without goodbye there are no post midnight talks...
no early "good morning"...
no late "good night,"
no exploring in person what's shared in writing,
no doing nothing together just to be together.

Without goodbye there are no long car rides...
no Zinfandel, Smirnoff or Schloss Lederheim,
no makeup, perms or pedicures,
no Earl's, White Spot or Empress Tea Room.

Without goodbye there are no stays in one another's homes...
no lying awake in the dark savouring those first moments,
no breathless excitement at knowing the loved one is near,
no togetherness in everything from dawn till dark.

Without goodbye there are no blue Canadian Rockies...
no Indian paintbrush, lilies and lupine,
no scallops, steppes, and swirls,
no living reminder of God's majesty and power.

Without goodbye there are no dark confessions...
no sharing of deepest secrets,
no souls knit together in love,
no Jonathan to Jonathan.

Without goodbye there are no dam bursts...
no heart to heart spanning cyberspace,
no building trust that knows no bounds,
no testing through darkness and silence.

Without goodbye there is no music in the night...
no parting gifts, sweet words and warm embraces,
no glimpse of heaven and my need for Him,
no time of reflection before returning to duties at home.


Without goodbye... there is no hello.

Two Friends Reprise...

This is my Dad.
This is my Mom and I
Here I am again with Dad. Who do you think I resemble the most?
Dad is holding his grand-daughter Elodie, his great-grandson, Rogan, and his great grand-daughter, Keiannah. Doesn't look old enough to be a great grandpa, does he?
Here's a nice picture of my parents with my daughter, Trista. Below is a beautiful picture of my Mom holding baby Jimbles.

My Summer So Far

I haven't been posting much, mainly because life keeps getting in the way. By that I mean that I can either live life or write about it, but not do both, apparently. Things slowed down a bit in a number of ways in the past week and I have had plenty of time to think things over.

As you saw a few posts back, we had company from France. Since then I had some friends from Edmonton staying here, my parents arrived and stayed for a month, and my sister-in-law and her family came and stayed for a weekend. I thoroughly enjoyed having all the company, but it is always a bittersweet thing for me. In the back of my mind I know "good-bye" has to be said at some point.

At the top of this post is a very special coupleI'd like to introduce my readers to. They have long occupied an important place in my heart. The beautiful lady is my mother, and the handsome man is my father. I don't think there is another person on earth who could be as blessed as I am in my parents, with the exception of my sister.

Mom and Dad went out of their way to bless me through helping around the house. Mom folded mutiple baskets of laundry, Dad organized the boys to get in a winter's worth of wood, cut, split, and stacked in one afternoon. He also stained all the baseboards for the house. I was treated to a pedicure, tea at a tea house, free books, naps, and a break from the kids. I don't knowwhen I enjoyed my time with my parents more. They are a delight to be with and we all miss them terribly. Even Elodie woke up the other morning wondering where "Grampy" was.

My eldest son, Nathanael, graduated from high school in June and we attended his graduation ceremony with Bernard and Annie. He then moved home for the next month and a half, and it gave me the opportunity to bring some closure to the idea of his moving out on his own. He'll be 20 years old in exactly one month. In the duration between when he left the first time and now he has learned to become an extraordinary cook. His baked salmon is something to rave about, as are his Caesar salads.

Unfortunately, the closure I got over Nathanael's leaving was more than offset by the fact that Trahern decided it was time to move out as well. He didn't leave in a snit, there were no fights, etc. He just decided to try his wings. This hit me like a bolt out of the blue and I had only 2 or 3 days notice before he was gone. Poor kid. I couldn't even go into the bus station to see him off. Instead I sat in the van and howled while my parents did my office of seeing him go.

You never know what kind of impact a person has on your life until they are gone. Since Trahern left, the phone has been strangely silent. On one of my office walls I have a large framed photo composition with 12 openings; one for each of my kids. The picture of Trahern is typical of him -- He has a phone glued to his ear. Gone are also some of the boys' friends who used to drop in when he was at home. Funny. I didn't really think about the fact that I also lose the kids' friends when they move out, or that I would mind.

I can get through most of the day pretty well without being too upset by it all. But then comes supper time and it is almost more than I can bear to see the reduced number of plates I have to set out. My table was full to overflowing just a week and a half ago. Now we can fit everyone around it.

Garnet, who is nearly seven, seemed to feel it the most, at least outwardly. The first night after he learned of Trahern's moving out was spent crying. He cried himself to sleep and Trahern found him asleep in bed with tears still on his cheeks. He's been phoning the boys every night to talk to them. At least he has that. And the boys have been pretty good about keeping in touch and letting me know what they are doing. My one consolation in this is that Nathanael has promised to keep an eye on Trahern to keep him out of trouble. And for being so young at moving out, Trahern is being fairly sensible in that he has applied to go to school. He'll have to work part time, of course, to support himself, but at least he hasn't given up on the idea of completing his high school education.

So yeah. Summer has been a compound of joy mixed with sadness. One benefit of angst, at least for me, is that it stimulates my creative juices. Lately I have taken to writing poetry. I don't know what kind of poetry you would call it. I don't stick to a strict rhyming scheme, and it isn't pure free verse. It's just what I wanted to do. I'll end this post with a very rough draft of one I am currently working on. Mostly I was just jotting down some ideas of what I want to express. I suspect that the final form will be quite different.

Is it You?
Are You the One I desire?
Scan the faces I see
Looking through them
Searching for the one
Who put insatiable longing
In this heart.

Who will still this restless
Movement of soul?
Are you the Treasure at the end
Of my rainbow?
Are You the home fire
That lights my home?
Will I ever know
As I am known?

I think I see You
So dimly, so darkly
Through this clouded glass I have.
You leave the room as I enter
Traces of Your perfume
Linger where you passed

Whispers of your voice sing to me
Through the trees
I sense Your fingers’ touch
Through the skin of others
Never enough

I’m afraid of this hunger
Afraid of the stumbling
Reaching for You every which way
Afraid of the Consuming Fire
Afraid of Your touch
Yet longing for its warmth
Where are You?