In Memory: Aunt Jo

Eleven years ago today our family lost a very special woman. My Mom's older sister, my Aunt Jo, was a wonderful woman. She was one of my most favorite people in all the world; she meant the world to me. I remember staying with her in the summertime, making bisquits on Saturday mornings, helping her in the garden and most of all going to church. Aunt Jo was a kind, friendly woman. She never fussed or complained, even when the cancer attacked her body. She kept her faith and held her head high with the quiet dignity and grace that I always knew she possessed. Aunt Jo touched so many through her words and deeds. Our family was blessed because she was a part of our lives. I miss her everyday, but she is always in my memory and in my heart.


Forever and Always

Time flies by, days go on.
Sitting by myself, I feel so alone.
Just thinking of you and the times we spent together.
But life is unpredictable, and nothing lasts forever.
So many times I took for granted those precious moments in life,
And I thought you'd always be here, until the end of time.
I thought you'd never leave me, that you'd always be here.
Now I miss your laughter, your comfort, joys, and cheer.
Even now I can't understand why you had to go,
But God knows what He is doing, and this thing I surely know:
You will never be forgotten, your face, never erased,
You will always be a part of my long and trying race.
For you taught me so many things as a baby and a child,
And you showed me that it's important to go an extra mile.
You showed me what's important, like family and friends,
For they're all that matters when it comes to the very end.
You will never be forgotten, no matter how long it's been.
Though I can't see or feel you, throughout each passing day,
I'll think of you often, and I'll remember you forever and always.

One Sweet Day

In April, 1996, my sister went through what is probably the most painful experience that a woman could ever have. She had already went through two miscarriages (one with twins), and she was now going into her seventh month of another pregnancy. She was anxiously awaiting the arrival of her little girl, who she had chosen to name Dakota. Yet, once again she miscarried. We were all heartbroken. Being part of a preacher's family, you become accustomed to dealing with all sorts of things, but nothing breaks your heart more than when it's your family going through a trial. Nothing has broken my heart more than having to face my sister knowing that she'll never be able to hold her beautiful daughter in her arms. What do you say? What kind of hope do you offer. You know what the scriptures say, but at that time, in that moment, you can't remember anything to offer encouragement. I found the best thing to do is just be there. Offer comfort when you can, a shoulder to cry on when it's needed, and eventually the storm will pass and the clouds will lift. You never fully get over going through something like this. Even though my sister has since been blessed with three beautiful children (one that looked exactly like Dakota when she was born), I can almost guarantee that she still thinks of that beautiful baby that we held in our arms, just for a few minutes, on a bright, sunny April day.



After my sister lost Dakota she heard of something that our local hospitals do for women and families that face this kind of tragedy. The first Saturday of October they have a Walk to Remember in our town's zoo. They have a minister or priest that says a few words, and you are able to read a poem or share something about your baby with the group. A few years after losing Dakota, my sister asked me to write a poem in her memory. It took me almost 9 years to do this. I admit I never even started or attempted to start to write something. I finally decided to just sit down and try to put some words down. This was in 2007, right before the Walk to Remember in October. This was the hardest thing I've ever written, but I think it made my sister happy. She read it a few weeks after I wrote it, at the zoo on the day that we walked to remember those little angels that only come into our life for a brief, fleeting moment and left a footprint on our hearts forever.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
One Sweet Day
One wonderful moment in time you belonged to me.
You were a part of my life, a part of this world.
Then suddenly, too quickly, you were taken away.
I didn’t have time to prepare for your departure.
I had no idea that it was so near. I didn’t want to let you go.
One moment, you were there, so anxious and full of life.
Then, in the next moment, in an instant, all was still.
I never knew there could be a pain as great as the pain I felt when I lost you.
You were my joy, my heart…you are a part of me.
I could not comprehend why God would take you from this life…from me.
I had so many questions but never the courage to ask them.
I know that God has a purpose for everything in this life.
And He has a plan for everyone.
And in one fleeting moment He called your name, and set your spirit free.
He took you by the hand and led you through Heaven’s gates.
He whispered your name as He held you in His arms and welcomed you home.
And as I look towards the Heavens
I can almost see your smile and hear your sweet voice.
And I smile, too, for I know that one sweet day I’ll see your face.
And, as I meet you at Heaven’s gates, all my tears will fade away. One sweet day…

Happy Mother's Day

To all you wonderful Mother's out there: Happy Mother's Day!

I wrote a poem this morning for my Mother. I thought I'd share with you.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

My Mother’s Love

I’ve always known my Mother’s love.
I’ve known it since I was a little girl.
Through the good times and through the bad;
When I was happy and when I was sad;
When I succeeded and when I fell;
My Mother still loved me, I could always tell.

We laughed and played, she watched me grow.
She taught me many of the things I know.
When I was young I didn’t know much,
but I felt the love in my Mother’s touch.
Now that I’m older I can truly see
how much my Mother really loves me.

She’s always loved me without measure.
My Mother’s love is a genuine treasure.
I may travel the world and gain riches and fame.
Everyone I meet might remember my name.
Yet, if I never travel another mile,
I will always see love in my Mother’s smile.

Yesterday

This is my PawPaw Ceburn (my paternal grandfather). PawPaw passed away on my birthday in 2004. My Mom & my aunt asked me to write a poem to go in the funeral program. Believe me when I tell you that this was one of the hardest things I've ever written. Usually, when I write a poem in memory of someone, it's weeks, months, sometimes a year after they pass. With this one, though, it had to be done the next day. I finished it on time, and I was pleased with the result.

Yesterday

Today I thought of yesterday,
the laughter, joy and tears.
I thought about the times we've shared
and treasured through the years.

Life is unpredictable.
Some things we'll never know,
like when we'll laugh, love or smile,
or when we'll have to go.

And though things are uncertain
and life seems so unfair. . .
I thank you now for the memories.
Thanks for being there.

I know I'll always miss you,
from this day until the end.
I'm thankful that I knew you,
that I could call you friend.

Now, when I think of yesterday,
a day that's lost and gone,
although I'm hurting deep inside,
I'll do my best to carry on.

Copyright ©2008 Crystal DeAnn Freeman

Different Drummers, NPM

Different Drummers
Excerpted from Please Understand Me II
By: David Keirsey

If I do not want what you want, please try not to tell me that my want is wrong. Or if I believe other than you, at least pause before you correct my view.
Or if my emotion is less than yours, or more, given the same circumstances, try not to ask me to feel more strongly or weakly.
Or yet if I act, or fail to act, in the manner of your design for action, let me be.
I do not, for the moment at least, ask you to understand me. That will come only when you are willing to give up changing me into a copy of you.
I may be your spouse, your parent, your offspring, your friend, or your colleague. If you will allow me any of my own wants, or emotions, or beliefs, or actions, then you open yourself, so that some day these ways of mine might not seem so wrong, and might finally appear to you as right- for me. To put up with me is the first step to understanding me. Not that you embrace my ways as right for you, but that you are no longer irritated or disappointed with me for my seeming waywardness. And in understanding me you might come to prize my differences from you, and, far from seeking to change me, preserve and even nurture those differences.

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.
-Henry David Thoreau

The Day is Done, NPM

This was Friday's poem of the day. I had it all ready to post, but I didn't have time because I was finishing a cake (which I will post about later). It's now or never, so, here it is...

The Day is Done
By: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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 to-night 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;
Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.
Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

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Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod, NPM

Two out of the three poems I have posted this week I first heard on a movie. That is also the case with today's poem. This is the poem that Mrs. Wilson recited to Dennis on the "Dennis the Menace" movie. I remember sitting in front of the TV and rewinding that part over and over until I got all of the words down. Then I memorized it, and sometimes when I couldn't fall asleep at night, I would recite it to myself. I've since discovered that there are two more verses that I have yet to learn.


Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod
By: Wendy A. Lawson

Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod, one night sailed off in a wooden shoe;
Sailed off on a river of crystal light into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going and what do you wish?" the old moon asked the three.
"We've come to fish for the herring fish that live in this beautiful sea.
Nets of silver and gold have we," said Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song as they rocked in the wooden shoe.
And the wind that sped them all night long ruffled the waves of dew.
Now the little stars are the herring fish that live in that beautiful sea;
"Cast your nets wherever you wish never afraid are we!"
So cried the stars to the fishermen three - Winkin', and Blinkin', and Nod.

So all night long their nets they threw to the stars in the twinkling foam.
'Til down from the skies came the wooden shoe bringing the fisherman home.
'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed as if it could not be.
Some folks say 'twas a dream they dreamed of sailing that misty sea.
But I shall name you the fisherman three - Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod.

Now Winkin' and Blinkin' are two little eyes and Nod is a little head.
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies is a wee one's trundle bed.
So close your eyes while mother sings of the wonderful sights that be.
And you shall see those beautiful things as you sail on the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three - Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod.

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Our Deepest Fear, NPM

One of my favorite poems is actually an excerpt from "A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of a Course in Miracles" by Marianne Williamson. These words are so true. We should remember these words each day.


Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Marianne Williamson, Return to Love

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I Carry Your Heart- NPM

This is another one of my favorite poems. This poem became popular after it was used on the movie In Her Shoes (a wonderful movie starring Cameron Diaz & Toni Collette). I admit, I had never read or heard this poem until watching this movie, but since then, it has been a favorite of mine. I read it not long ago at a friend's wedding. It's a nice poem for a wedding or just to give to someone you love.


I Carry Your Heart
by E. E. Cummings

I carry your heart with me.
I carry it in my heart.
I am never without it.
Anywhere I go, you go, my dear.
And whatever is done by only me...
is your doing, my darling.
I fear no fate... for you are my fate, my sweet.
I want no world, for, beautiful...
you are my world, my true.
Here is the deepest secret no one knows.
Here is the root of the root... and the bud of the bud...
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life...
which grows higher than the soul can hope... or mind can hide.
It is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart.
I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart.

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National Poetry Month

April is National Poetry Month (NPM). According to poets.org:

National Poetry Month is a month-long, national celebration of poetry established by the Academy of American Poets. The concept is to widen the attention of individuals and the media—to the art of poetry, to living poets, to our complex poetic heritage, and to poetry books and journals of wide aesthetic range and concern. We hope to increase the visibility and availability of poetry in popular culture while acknowledging and celebrating poetry’s ability to sustain itself in the many places where it is practiced and appreciated.

Go visit this site to find out more about NPM. You will also find FAQ's, how you can support NPM, how you can become more involved and much more.

Since poetry is one of my favorite things, each day this week I'm going to post one of my favorite poems. Today's poem is one of my favorites and has been for some time:

The Road Not Taken
By Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and IC
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

In Memory: Bailey

This sweet baby is Bailey.

Bailey came into our lives 6 months ago today.

He was only with us for 3 days.

It's amazing how someone so small can touch so many hearts.

CaSandra, Bailey's mommy.

(The silly man beside her was trying

to see which one of them had the bigger belly.
I think he won!)

Me & Bailey about an hour after he was born.

Someone said, "Some people go a lifetime without seeing an angel, but we've held one in our arms.

The day he passed away, I went to work, crying,

and my friend, Nancy, really encouraged me.

She told me that God sent Bailey to show us what love really is.

And I truly believe that.

I wrote this poem a few weeks later.

_______________________________________________
You Showed Us Love
By: Me

You were here for just a moment,
then, too soon, you were gone.
God called your name and wrapped you in His arms;
then, he brought you home.

He knew our hearts were breaking,
He knew we would shed many tears.
He knew that we would miss you,
in the coming years.

We didn’t understand it:
why did you have to go?
Even now we still don’t understand,
yet, in our hearts, we will always know:

You were our bundle of joy, our dream come true,
a sweet gift from Heaven above.
You were sent down here to bring joy to our lives
and to fill our hearts with love.

You filled our lives with wonder
and memories that can never be erased.
We’ll hold each one close to our hearts
and remember you with each passing day.

In Loving Memory of Bailey Scott Davis
September 16, 2008—September 19, 2008

Through It All

Danny Thomas, founder of St. Jude Children's Research Hospital, said, "No child should die in the dawn of life." Yet, this unpredictable life brings unpredictable and unwanted tragedy to reality so many times.

In 2005, I began donating to St. Jude. In doing so, I have been touched many times on numerous occasions. In the pictures that I see of these children, I am continually captivated by the sweet smiles on their precious faces and the look of innocence in their beautiful eyes. And it saddens me to think that, in their short time, these innocent children have seen, experienced and felt more pain and suffering than most adults will in their lifetime.

Yet, the spirit of a child cannot be broken- even with cancer, sickness, pain and, sometimes, even death fighting against them. They have an unwillingness to waver or falter in the face of imminent danger and catastrophe.

I asked myself, "If these children can continue to smile as they rise and grow through all of this, then, why can't I?" I wrote this poem in dedication to all of the wonderful children who have been a part of St. Jude...the ones that have fought and the ones that are still fighting to live a full and happy life. May God bless them all...


Through It All
As I journey down the broken path of life
Everyday I face my share of sorrow, pain and strife.
The mountains rise before me, the ground shakes at my feet.
The circumstances of this life try to get the best of me.
At times my friends forsake me, and I feel alone.
I wonder if I will make it, as I try to carry on.
The road ahead is bumpy, filled with many twists and turns.
And I wonder if these struggles are there to help me learn.
Then, I look around me, and I see heartache all around.
I see a family that's lost a loved one; I watch dreams fall to the ground.
With each new day and step I take I think of all the suffering.
Some live their lives and they are full while others can only dream.
I realize then that all my troubles are not as bad as they once seemed.
Through the darkness, though sometimes dim, a light has always gleamed.
I've lived through lonely days, sleepless nights and moments of hopelessness.
Through it all, though, I have learned that I am truly blessed.
I face some storms, I feel the rain, and sometimes I stumble and fall.
But the storms will pass, the rain will cease and the sun will shine bright on us all.
And though my steps have faltered, I have stood the tests of time.
My faith is restored and I gain the strength each time to continue to rise!

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