Pocketful of Memory Cards

On Tuesday, my daughter received her diploma from the University of British Columbia. On Wednesday I was moving documents to my new computer when I stumbled upon a verse I'd copied from a card my mom gave Nicole when she graduated from high school.  I thought I'd post it today along with some photos of my Mom.  Today, is the fourth anniversary of her passing. GRANDMA'S PEARLS OF WISDOM by Becky Netherland I've traveled paths you've yet to walk Learned lessons old and new And now this wisdom of my life I'm blessed to share with you. Let kindness spread like sunshine Embrace those who are sad Respect their dignity, give them joy And leave them feeling glad   Forgive those who might hurt you And though you have your pride Listen closely to their viewpoint Try to see the other side Walk softly when you're angry Try not to take offense Invoke your sense of humor Laughter's power is immense!   Express w...

'Twas less than three weeks now, until Christmas Eve And Suzan was wishing this cold snap would leave! Still she braved frigid temps, hung her sign up with care, And now tags on The Wishing Tree danced in the air. At night as she burrowed ‘neath the sheets on her bed, She pulled up the duvet, ‘til it covered her head. And if Max wanted out for a three a.m. crap, She’d pretend she was sleeping and give Mike a tap. Hibernation was something she thought she should try, But then Old Saint Nick, surely’d pass them right by. She began to act Grinchy when she had to go out, She'd gripe and complain, and sometimes she’d pout. As her mind mused on Santa and Grinches and Max, She thought a great thought that stopped her in her tracks. Though the weather was frightful beyond all good reason,  It was love that would warm her in this festive season. For when you share time, with your family and friends, The love surely grows and th...

According to Robert Frost, " Nature's first green is gold ".  According to our walk along Mission Creek yesterday afternoon, it seems her last green is also gold, and what a beautiful gold it is.

LOVELIEST of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide. Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again, And take from seventy springs a score, It only leaves me fifty more. And since to look at things in bloom Fifty springs are little room, About the woodlands I will go To see the cherry hung with snow. A. E. Housman (1859 – 1936)

For World Poetry Day I'm sharing a poem I read and fell in love with on Treasuring the Day , a blog by my dear friend Janet. You Can't Have It All  - Barbara Ras Covent Gardens Market September 2009 But you can have the fig tree and its fat leaves like clown hands gloved with green. You can have the touch of a single eleven-year-old finger on your cheek, waking you at one a.m. to say the hamster is back. You can have the purr of the cat and the soulful look of the black dog, the look that says, If I could I would bite every sorrow until it fled, and when it is August, you can have it August and abundantly so. You can have love, though often it will be mysterious, like the white foam that bubbles up at the top of the bean pot over the red kidneys until you realize foam's twin is blood. You can have the skin at the center between a man's legs, so solid, so doll-like. You can have the life of the mind, glowing occasionally in priestly vestments, neve...

When my youngest nephew was born, I came up with a brilliant gift idea.  I would take a photograph of him and his older brother and then frame it along with the lyrics to a favourite Elton John song of mine.  Like many brilliant ideas I've had in the past, it never came to fruition.  I discovered the intended photo this afternoon while "having a turn out" as my mother-in-law used to say.   My youngest nephew is now 20 years old, and his brother is 24.  Better late than never I always say. "The Greatest Discovery" Peering out of tiny eyes The grubby hands that gripped the rail Wiped the window clean of frost As the morning air laid on the latch A whistle awakened someone there Next door to the nursery just down the hall A strange new sound you never heard before A strange new sound that makes boys explore Tread neat so small those little feet Amid the morning his small heart beats So much excitement yesterday That must be rewarded must...

 I often sit and wish that I Could be a kite up in the sky And ride upon the wind and go Whatever way I chanced to blow Author Unknown

My Mother kept a garden, a garden of the heart, She planted all the good things that gave my life it's start. She turned me to the sunshine and encouraged me to dream, Fostering and nurturing the seeds of self-esteem... And when the winds and rain came, she protected me enough-- But not too much because she knew I'd need to stand up strong and tough. Her constant good example always taught me right from wrong-- Markers for my pathway that will last a lifetime long. I am my Mother's garden. I am her legacy- And I hope today she feels the love reflected back from me Author unknown