DADDY’S LOVE – ABBA’S SERVANT

June 13, 2017

 

Tapers on the sofa table

Gently lit the room

For it was night.

 

While mother slept,

Father and I enjoyed the gentle candle light

And stories from another time and place.

 

We needed no warmth

From those candles, though.

That came from father’s heart.

 

He knew I’d be waiing.

I knew he’d come.

Sleep didn’t come easily to him.

 

We spent hours together

He shared so many stories

Oa life as a boy,family,the farm…

 

Tales of many generations

Retold in the gently lit room

Well into the night.

 

Tears come as I share this

But not of sadness,

All of joy!

 

As we retired for the night,

I waited for his sounds of sleep

Before taking to my bed.

 

He is gone now,

But my memories still bring

Love, peace, and rest!

 

By Martha L Shaw – © 2017

 

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The Miracle of Death!

September 21, 2013

For Sharon

A dear lady from my church died unexpectedly this past week.  I just came from her funeral.  She was only 53 years old.  When she was born the doctors had to break it to her parents that her health was poor and that “this baby is going to die.”  She did not die.

At the age of 14 when most of us are trying to figure out if we are adults or still children, she was having open-heart surgery.  “going to die.”  She did not.

Today a packed church celebrated the life of this active and hard-working lady.  She was a very quiet person.  I only ever knew her first name.  She sat behind me in church every week..  I never saw her at the meetings I attended, or at coffee hour, yet still she touched my heart.  Always a smile, always a hug, always a welcoming nod from this very sweet, very quiet lady.  Those who knew her well and spoke of her today revealed just what my heart already knew  . . . for they could not speak of her without also speaking of Jesus.

What a tribute to her life that is!  What is the miracle of death?  Simply this!  There is no death!  For His followers, Jesus destroyed death!  Live on sweet friend!  See you in church tomorrow!  You will be on the other side and smiling even brighter than before!


Thank You Veterans!

November 11, 2012

 

Thank you, proud Navy Veteran Ronald E Shaw, deceased, my Dad.  Thanks as well to all Veterans, past and present for honoring us with your service!

 


With Great Love – Remembering Daddy

September 25, 2012

Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love   – Mother Teresa –

 

Think about our lives on a typical day.  We don’t change the world.  We don’t solve the economic crisis or find a way to world peace, or to cure the common cold.  Yet, some do small things with great love as the quote suggests.  My late father was one of them.  Daddy died a few years back on 9-26 and tomorrow marks the anniversary once more.  Daddy never finished school, yet he learned more than most of us by caring to do small things well.  He was my hero and not just mine but the hero of most whom he ever met. 

Daddy called everyone “Pal” and truly felt everyone was his friend.  If anyone was in trouble he’d offer a hand or a word of encouragement.  I can recall his going outside and Mom wondering where he’d gone off to.  Sometimes, he’d go into the woods and find something to transplant to make the yard look good when Mom looked out the window.  Other times he’d hear someone working on a car and grab a few tools and go see if he could help get it started.  He was good at that.  Didn’t go to fancy schools to learn, but simply bought old cars and learned how they worked and with little money for fancy things or high-priced shops to fix things, he just learned how to do it.  He shared what he learned. 

He could fix a leaky roof or kitchen sink.  He could put a doll’s leg back on when it broke off.  He could make a cut on my knee better and dry my tears.  He knew just when to pat my shoulder or give a sudden hug.  He didn’t know fancy words.  He didn’t need them.  Not long before his final illness, he and Mom had a “big” anniversary and I made them tee shirts with pictures on them from their wedding day all those decades before.  I took them out to dinner at a favorite local place.  You know the sort, where everyone knows everyone else?  He got up and walked all over the place even into the kitchen so he could show everyone “the shirt my daughter made me.” He pointed to the picture on the front, too.  He had Parkinson’s and didn’t move about easily as a rule, but that night he managed.  Everyone shared his joy. 

At the end he was bed ridden and in the days before he passed, he couldn’t really talk.  He couldn’t really do anything anymore.  He could barely move at all, yet as Mom and I stood at his bedside, he saw us and did his best to make he weak facial muscles, stiff from the disease, form a smile.  I saw Mom’s hand on the side of his bed and noticed him focus on her hand.  I saw a look on his face and watched him with great effort slowly nudge that right hand a fraction of an inch at a time and it took quite some time for him to move his hand a few small inches to where her hand lay.  He finally made it across the distance and clasped her hand.  Twenty minutes to move 3 or 4 inches.   ” . . .  small things with great love.”

I love you Daddy!

 

 


RIP Marie

September 7, 2012

A woman at church passed away in her sleep and while I hardly knew her and don’t even know her last name, her life touched mine.  I wrote this as a tribute to Marie and have asked my priests to share it with her family.  I wanted to share it with all of you as well.  Smile, my friends.  It changes hearts and lives in ways you’ll never know.

She Wore His Smile

For Marie

 

I didn’t know her well,

and yet she touched my heart

in a special way.

Each Sunday morning

as I gazed toward the altar

and saw the sunshine gleaming

through the stained glass window

high above my head,

I saw another ray of Son-shine

brightening the darkness

in the smile on her face

as she sang her heart out in choir.

Through that very heart of hers,

Jesus touched my own.

Each time our paths crossed

There was always that same smile . . .

a pat on the arm . . .

and the glow of her Lord

encouraging me,

blessing me,

lifting me up.

I cannot truly be sad

that she went to sleep

one last time

for I know that when she awakened

she was smiling at her Jesus

face to face.

              By Martha L Shaw


Why Didn’t My Ancestors Smile More?

September 16, 2011

I love looking at old photographs just as I always loved listening to the stories my late father told me.  Thinking about my parents as I look at the tattered pictures that represent a past I know so little about, I can’t help but wonder how my happy and laughing parents, and thus I as well,  could come from such somber-faced lineage. 

In my Mom’s case there seemed few if any children in the many photographs.  Mom even now so late in life finds reasons to giggle.  I think perhaps she was just what they needed to break free.  In my late father’s family it was quite a different story.

 My Dad was my hero.  To this day if you ask me I’ll insist that he knew everything and could fix anything from a broken doll to my broken heart and it brings tears to my eyes even now when I realize that he’s not in the next town or the next room with his arms out ready to hug me and “fix it.”  He always could. 

 My Dad didn’t learn those things in school, though, because he wasn’t able to go to school but for a very few years.  He was tall for his age and strong.  He was needed to use that streangth and height to help support his family.  You see, the polio epidemic came to the country town he grew up in and nearly took his only brother and his Dad, my Grandfather.  Grampy was so young then and no longer able to work.  My Dad needed to work and help support his family at a time when he should have been grumbling about homework and playing ball or riding his bike.  He didn’t complain.  I wasn’t there but I knew my Dad.  I’m sure I’m right in saying he didn’t complain.

My Dad rarely complained.  He also rarely had any extra money.  There was always another bill to pay with every dollar he could earn.  With just an elementary education, though, he learned more than many with 16 years or more of classroom time.  How?  Because when he was with a person, he was interested in that person.  He focused on the person.  He cared.  Everyone he met was his “pal.”  I so ofteen heard him saying “hi pal!”  He met people down and out and people who were “big” name folks and they all were greeted that way.  They all loved him and called him “hero” just as I still do. 

He often spoke of the things he learned from these people.  He learned “simple” things, in his own opinion.  He could build a house, fix the plumbing, make a lamp, install a telephone when it wasn’t simply a wireless device.  He could fix breakfast or a broken baby doll.  Anyone who needed something fixed and was baffled knew they could call on him.  He’d fix it.  He’d always know just what to do.  He always smiled.  Those old family photographs betrayed how challenging life was “in those days” but not the ones with my Dad in them.   He always had a smile, a laugh, an outstretched hand. 

Funny, he would say he didn’t know much and that he learned from everyone around him.  I think he had it wrong and I know they’d all agree.  I believe they learned far more from Dad than he ever learned from them, and Dad met every challenge with a smile!


To Honor My Mom!

July 30, 2011

To honor my Mother on today, her 82nd birthday, I offer you Carrie Underwood singing Mom’s favorite song:  How Great Thou Art!  As you hear the song, I ask that you please listen with your heart to these amazing words and thank Him for His many blessings!

Click Here for Carrie Underwood


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