Enough Said

To my boys, my reason for being...

 

 
If not for you,
Babe, I couldn’t even find the door,
I couldn’t even see the floor,
I’d be sad and blue, if not for you.

If not for you,
Babe, the night would see me wide awake,
the day would surely have to break,
it would not be new, if not for you.

If not for you, my sky would fall,
rain would gather, too,
without your love I'd be nowhere at all,
I’d be lost, if not for you.

If not for you,
the winter would hold no spring,
couldn’t hear a robin sing,
I just wouldn’t have a clue, if not for you.

If not for you, my sky would fall,
rain would gather, too,
without your love I’d be nowhere at all,
I’d be lost, if not for you.

If not for you,
the winter would hold no spring,
couldn’t hear a robin sing,
I just wouldn’t have a clue, if not for you.

If not for you…

Dylan 1970

Many versions of this song, but this has Harrison and Dylan!

A Morning of Mourning

Today is the 10th Anniversary of 9/11. It is a day of remembrances and tributes. The speeches are touching, the songs beautiful, the poems remarkable. You once asked that we share the lines you chose from this by Longfellow...the perfect poem..
 

The day is done, and the darkness

Falls from the wings of Night,

As a feather is wafted downward

From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village

Gleam through the rain and the mist,

And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me

That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,

That is not akin to pain,

And resembles sorrow only

As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,

Some simple and heartfelt lay,

That shall soothe this restless feeling,

And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,

Not from the bards sublime,

Whose distant footsteps echo

Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,

Their mighty thoughts suggest

Life's endless toil and endeavor;

And tonight I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,

Whose songs gushed from his heart,

As showers from the clouds of summer,

Or tears from the eyelids start;

Then read from the treasured volume

The poem of thy choice,

And lend to the rhyme of the poet

The beauty of thy voice.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Grandparents

I composed a blog entry in a magazine recently. When I reread it today, I realized not only how important Pam is to me, but how much I love her for how important she was to you. She and Grandpa were your best friends. I often thought about how happy I was that you were so near them and able to spend time with them. When your Grandma Madge passed, you were heartbroken because she was your best friend at that time. She died shortly after your assault and there was no space for grieving for any of us and I am still sad and sorry about that. When you moved to Mammoth, I missed your belly laugh and worried constantly about you, but I was happy that Dad and Pam got to know you like we did, your sardonic humor, your wit, your incredible intelligence, your ability to put people in their place while they thought they were receiving a compliment. Your laughter filled any room you entered, your generosity was quietly demonstrated on so many occasions. I am forever grateful they were able to know you and love you so deeply. How lovely the relationship of granddaughters and grandmothers and grandfathers! The following 300 word blog was written July, 2011:

“She’s not much older than me” I whined when my father told us of his upcoming marriage. Visions of the evil stepmother from the fairy tales I’d grown up with loomed large in my head.

“Maybe you’ll become friends one day,” he said hopefully.

“Never!” my seventeen-year-old mind shouted.

Even though I had reconciled my parent’s divorce after twenty years and four children, my allegiance was to my mother. My way of showing loyalty to her was a promise not to send Mother’s Day cards to “that” woman.

  But of course, years passed, we all matured and our families grew. My father was happy and healthy, and married to his best friend.

  She would never give birth, so it seemed fitting to ask her to be there when we had our first child. Afterward, she wrote the most beautiful letter I’ve ever received. It was gracious and heartfelt as she thanked us for allowing her to be part of something so special. It was then that I realized how much I had grown to love her.

  Thirty years later, just days before my mother passed from cancer, she whispered to me that I could send Mother’s Day cards to my stepmother now. “You know, honey, she’s been very good to all of you.” Guilt joined hands with my grief.

  And as far as the fairy tale goes, the stepmother actually became the Cinderella in our story. She emerged as the intelligent, funny, independent, beautiful woman with her prince.

  My brothers and I may not be her children, but we are her family. Our children are her grandchildren and their children are her great-grandchildren.

What started as a predictable fairy tale became one of my most cherished happily ever after endings because she became my friend.

You and Your Grandpa!

Two of my favorite pictures of you and Kenton because your face tells the whole story. The infamous beanbag at Grandma and Grandpa Rake's house.You questioning your Grandpa's intentions, something that never changed...

"Are you really gonna let him drink that, Grandpa?"

My Butterfly Tattoo

Tattoo #3 on my wrist like your stars!

 

Butterfly

Does the white butterfly symbolize a soul,

your angel watching over you,

so close you could touch it?

I want to believe it is true.

Maybe it is just a white butterfly

winging through our sky,

but I want to believe it is you,

I whisper with a sigh.

Sometimes a butterfly represents no more

than the beauty of it’s flight,

or the journey it is taking,

from sunrise to twilight.

Since you’ve been gone,

we all see them, although rare,

and we want to believe it is

your way to show you care.

But, you would never arrive so quietly,

like a whisper on a breeze,

for you, my darling daughter,

did little with such ease!

You arrive with “in your face!”

that’s how we know you’re here,

we’ve all had a dose of that,

and it’s not a whisper in our ear!

Your actions shout,

 “Pay attention, I am here!”

and forces us to believe,

you will always be near.

I believe,

Mama

August 11, 2011

This is when I became a Goldie Hawn fan for life!

Think of Me

How happy you all made each other! Kenton and Tino, Kenna and Mina, KC and Calvin

I made a list of the movies I have seen more that 5 times. It was as eclectic as yours, starting with Dirty Harry, The Godfather I and II and ending with The Phantom of the Opera and Sense and Sensibility. Go figure! So many songs have different meaning now. Ones that were beautiful just in their setting can now bring me to tears for deeper reasons. I loved the song "Think of Me" from Phantom, but today when I watched the movie (again!), the lyrics seemed different. They aren't, we just are. Today Kameron and KC had to let Tino go and I just keep thinking, when will all this sadness end? In a little over  year we lost first our Dawna; your Baby Kitty; you, our precious girl; Rascal; Kameron's Jon Coppersmith and now Tino. Too much loss, too much pain. But we think of you, always.

Think of me, think of me fondly
when we've said goodbye.
Remember once in awhile,
please, promise me you'll try.

When you find, that once again,
you long to take your heart back and be free,
if you ever find a moment,
spare a thought for me.

We never said our love was evergreen,
or as unchanging as the sea,
but if you can still remember,
stop and think of me.

Think of all the things
we've shared and seen,
don't think about the way things
might have been.

Think of me,
think of me waking,
silent and resigned.
Imagine me, trying too hard
to put you from my mind.

Recall those days,
look back on all those times,
think of the things we'll never do,
there will never be a day when
I won't think of you.

Flowers fade,
the fruits of summer fade,
they have their seasons, so do we,
but, please promise me, that sometimes
you will think of me.

Andrew Lloyd Webber

Our Dawna and Knana! Look how much Kenna loved her. Sweet.


Emma Rossen from "The Phantom of the Opera" Movie (Stars in her hair) 

Snow Angel

                                                             Snow Angel by Tori Amos

Your Aunt Jill, Uncle Mike and Cousin Shannon visited your tree after the snowfall. They made this beautiful angel for you. They love you and miss you. Who's going to give them a bad time when they go to June Lake?