A place where friends and family can come and get an update on Jim and Gloria. A place to share pictures, laughs, wisdom, prayers, gripes and probably a few tears, too.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
:(
My sister and I are Erie. The sun/beach has been wonderful. We have to head home early though. My hero of youth, my Fat Dad died yesterday.
Dolly
6 comments:
Anonymous
said...
Aw Gloria,
I'm so sorry for your loss. Your dad must have made some wonderful memories with you as you talk about him with such obvious love. You are and will remain in my prayers.
Thinking of You tonight before I go to bed. God bless You and keep You dear Dolly. Your dad must have been wonderful to have girls like You and Kim. Joe and I are so sorry for your loss.MJB
John Shaw Neilson, the poet, offered some words I suspect your Dear Dad had for you, Gloria :
"I would be dismal with all the fine pearls of the crown of a king; But I can talk plainly to you, you little blue flower of the Spring! Here in the heart of September the world that I walk in is full Of the hot happy sound of the shearing, the rude heavy scent of the wool. Soon would I tire of all riches or honours or power that they fling; But you are my own, of my own folk, you little blue flower of the Spring! I was around by the cherries to-day; all the cherries are pale: The world is a woman in velvet: the air is the colour of ale. I would be dismal with all the fine pearls of the crown of a king; But I can give love-talk to you, you little blue flower of the Spring!"
A few years ago, someone sent me the following poem and I liked it so much that I saved it... I hope it blesses you because I imagine that there was a lot of wonderful memories you have of your father between the dash:
The Dash copyright 1996 Linda Ellis
I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend. He referred to the dates on her tombstone from the beginning...to the end.
He noted that first came the date of her birth and spoke of the following date with tears, but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time that she spent alive on earth... and now only those who loved her know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own; the cars....the house...the cash. What matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard... are there things you'd like to change? For you never know how much time is left that can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough to consider what's true and real, and always try to understand the way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger, and show appreciation more and love the people in our lives like we've never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect, and more often wear a smile... remembering that this special dash might only last a little while.
So, when your eulogy is being read with your life's actions to rehash... would you be proud of the things they say about how you spend your dash?
Sorry that we won't be able to attend the funeral, but our hearts ache for you and we love you and pray for God's peace and strength.
6 comments:
Aw Gloria,
I'm so sorry for your loss. Your dad must have made some wonderful memories with you as you talk about him with such obvious love. You are and will remain in my prayers.
Amy
So sorry for your loss and the pain that follows such a great loss. We are praying for your family.
Love,
Judy
Thinking of You tonight before I go to bed. God bless You and keep You dear Dolly. Your dad must have been wonderful to have girls like You and Kim. Joe and I are so sorry for your loss.MJB
John Shaw Neilson, the poet, offered some words I suspect your Dear Dad had for you, Gloria :
"I would be dismal with all the fine pearls of the crown of a king;
But I can talk plainly to you, you little blue flower of the Spring!
Here in the heart of September the world that I walk in is full
Of the hot happy sound of the shearing, the rude heavy scent of the wool.
Soon would I tire of all riches or honours or power that they fling;
But you are my own, of my own folk, you little blue flower of the Spring!
I was around by the cherries to-day; all the cherries are pale:
The world is a woman in velvet: the air is the colour of ale.
I would be dismal with all the fine pearls of the crown of a king;
But I can give love-talk to you, you little blue flower of the Spring!"
Gaz - under
I'm so sorry Aunt Dolly. I love you.
Judi
A few years ago, someone sent me the following poem and I liked it so much that I saved it... I hope it blesses you because I imagine that there was a lot of wonderful memories you have of your father between the dash:
The Dash
copyright 1996 Linda Ellis
I read of a man who stood to speak
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
from the beginning...to the end.
He noted that first came the date of her birth
and spoke of the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on earth...
and now only those who loved her
know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own;
the cars....the house...the cash.
What matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard...
are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
that can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
to consider what's true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger,
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we've never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile...
remembering that this special dash
might only last a little while.
So, when your eulogy is being read
with your life's actions to rehash...
would you be proud of the things they
say about how you spend your dash?
Sorry that we won't be able to attend the funeral, but our hearts ache for you and we love you and pray for God's peace and strength.
Maddy and Sam
Post a Comment