Special People

So many people have been so kind to me since Keith's passing. Of course, Dr. Brian is just the best.

I was invited to come back to Choir at First Presbyterian. This is my third week and so many people are helping me both at practice and on Sunday.

The Church and its people are my family. Gof bless them all.

The Last Goodnight

It was last Wednesday and Keith and I were at one of the tables in the Café at Larkspur, a continuing care facility here in Lufkin.

Keith had been doing well and enjoying that we were eating dinner together every night. Last Wednesday was not the same. Keith did not eat and was sliding out of his wheelchair. One of the staff came over to help and took Keith back to his room where he put him to bed. We kissed Good Night and I left.

Just before 10 o'clock, a Larkspur staff member called to let me know Keith had passed.

Our Minister at First Presbyterian in Lufkin had been helping throughout Keith's illness. We went to CarrowayFuneral home, made arrangements and scheduled his funeral for Saturday.

It was a wonderful tribute with family and friends speaking. We had a lot of special music.

After the service, we had a simple meal where we could chat with those who had attended.

It was Keith's time and the Lord called him home.

I miss him so much and appreciate the calls and notes.

This is a choir picture: Keith with
David Franssen.

It's been 21 years now since I came to Texas after marrying Keith Alan Sutton in Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada. We met on Widownet.org. We still have at least one friend from that group with whom we keep in touch.

So Keith is 90 now and I am 78. Life is a little harder and right now Keith is in a special care facility here in Lufkin. He broke his hip and was sent to Houston for his surgery. It was a two and a half hour drive and sometimes more to visit Keith there. Wonderful friends drove me there for visits. I have experienced so many special people these past months. I am very hopeful that Keith will be able to come back to our house.

Keith and I have been blessed with a wonderful life. We joined First Presbyterian Church about 8 years ago and have made many friends there. Our minister has been especially helpful through this time, going beyond to do special things for us.

Yes, that is Buddy the Lhasa in the picture that our friend took a few years ago for Christmas. Buddy is blind and deaf but does very well and especially enjoys his grooming sessions with his pal Billy in the Lucky Puppy Van.

So it is totally possible to find a "new life" after being widowed. There are pictures of Keith's wife, Jane Sutton and my husband, John Devlin in our living room . . . or great room as it is called.

On Facebook I still have lots of friends from the Dog Fancy. (John was a dog show judge.) We have not been up to Toronto for a long time and I don't imagine we will be there again.

Keith was a mechanical engineer and I had been a real estate agent in Toronto. Many friends have passed but we are very fortunate to have many people - particularly from church who help us. We have lived in the same house for 20 years and with help, hope to stay here.

So this is sort of an update. I hope some of you reading this will see that you can continue on as you age. God bless you all!

Senior Moments

It's been a while . . . Was thinking how it is being a senior married to a senior. Keith and I met online in a support group for widowed seniors. Now we have celebrated our 20th anniversary. That is probably unusual. I was living in Toronto, Ontario, Canada and Keith was living near Houston, Texas. Church is probably our major activity headquarter. We have many friends there and participate in Bible Study. As we age, of course we can do less but we still have our amazing Lhasa Apso, Buddy. I was wondering what I could mention. One thing would be the poor quality of television programming. Some of the older programs would be fun to watch, for example Ed Sullivan. We are limited in our physical energy so television is an option. Going to sign off for now. God Bless!

One Love for 80

Wednesday at 2 PM For 80

Sending this orange balloon up for Aidan, Abigail, Robbie, Carrie Jane and Mark - our angels! Thank you to 80 and his mother for teaching us so much about our own children who have gone to Heaven. Thank you for showing me that I am still a Mom.

Orange Balloons For 80 (Aidan Peterson)

Jackson and an orange balloon, a photo by alicegop on Flickr.

On Wednesday, August 14th, orange balloons will be released in McKinney, Texas for a little angel named Aidan (80). 

I suspect they will be also sent up from several other locations. Here's one from the Yonge-Street-Texan. 

Goodbye, sweet Angel. Hope you find our other Angels there. 

Blessings to his family and all those who followed One Love For 80.

Above is Buddy the Lhasa with Billy from Lucky Puppy who comes to our house to groom Buddy. How special is that. Naw . . . we do not spoil Buddy!

Please go to Fido and Fifi to wish Buddy a Happy 10th Birthday and read about how he came to us! 

Never Forgotten

Baby feet, a photo by Daniel Hurst Photography on Flickr.

Anyone who has mourned a child can tell you that it is a special feeling. It is something you cannot explain to someone who has not experienced it. 

Keith and I have been following a Facebook Page called One Love For 80. 

His mother is from the next town over and at least one of our friends knows her. 

I am not going into Aiden's history, because you can see that for yourself if you want. (Aiden's nickname is "80".)

What I want to tell you is this: We never stop learning. 

Aiden's Mother made a beautiful comment the other day about how if 80 does go to Heaven, she will still be his Mom. 

That really struck me! 

I had two children, many years ago: they would be in their 40s now. Over the years, I have struggled to try to know children but I never really felt comfortable with them. 

I was a Mother, but my children died: Robbie at 3-1/2 weeks and Carrie Jane at 6-1/2 months. 

So, when I realized what 80's Mother said, I started to process these old losses to realize that I AM A MOTHER. 

Because I believe and especially because I have read books on people who were clinically dead and came back to relate their experiences in Heaven . . . now I believe that I will see my children again. 

And . . . I am starting to realize that I am Robbie and Carrie Jane's mother. 

What we have once enjoyed and deeply loved we can never lose, for all that we love deeply becomes a part of us. -Helen Keller

Forgiveness - A Gift To Ourselves

cross - plasma - Christian Wallpaper desktop background, a photo by † David Gunter on Flickr.

The Bible has many references to forgiveness, but did you ever really think about how a forgiving mentality can get you through life much easier?

As I get older, I have come to realize that every time I can forgive someone, it makes me feel calmer, quieter and more relaxed. 

From a practical standpoint, it is useless to blame problems we have on the way others have treated us in the past. 

There is no school where parents are trained. They make mistakes; they have high expectations of their children. They sometimes say mean things without thinking. Years later, it only hurts us to replay these comments over and over in our minds. If we still blame our parents, we are still causing ourselves pain. 

We marry for love and divorce because things were not as we expected them to be or perhaps because someone "better" or different entered our or our partner's life. If we play over and over in our minds the things that went wrong, it diminishes our lives today. We need to remember the good things and get on with our lives today.

Someone is having a bad day and they take it out on us. It is like they are transferring how they are feeling to us. 

Each time we are able to forgive someone, it just makes us feel that much better. Yes, I know we do not always "forgive and forget" but if we move on from the hurt that person caused us, we can achieve great happiness.

Rita MacNeil - Another Canadian Icon

Rita MacNeil, a photo by bv. on Flickr.

It was not a story we would see on our Texas cable. No, I found out a few days later on Facebook, actually, that Rita MacNeil had died.

Had a call from my sister-in-law in Sydney (Nova Scotia) and we talked about Rita's demise.

She was a Canadian through and through. She came from a town on the Cabot Trail on Cape Breton called Big Pond.

She was not glamorous at all, but oh, how she could sing!

Rita was born with a cleft palate and had several surgeries for that. She was a single mother and her life was not an easy one. 

She went to the "Big City" - Toronto - and cleaned houses there. 

All the time, she was writing songs about her home - the beauty of Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia - and about the Coal Miners from there. 

We visited her Tea Room in Big Pond a few years ago and I still have my replica in my curio cabinet. 

She tried to joke about herself and when I saw her about 25 years ago at the then O'Keefe Centre in Toronto, she wore a large hat and kicked off her shoes and made fun of her large size.

I have talked before about my brother-in-law singing with Men of the Deeps, a Group of retired coal miners who sing many songs Rita wrote. Sometimes, Men of the Deeps toured with Rita. 

I have given you some links to YouTube videos of Rita and if you go there yourself, you will find many more and also interviews. By the way, my brother-in-law, Sen is the one toward the right with his thumbs in his belt. 

Sometimes I have trouble describing some of the Canadian things I am still very passionate about and Rita is surely one!



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GtMIMwnW_g

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toknq7zj0TE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUnRhsbObPE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=31_Bjif2KZs

George Jones - He Stopped Today *

George Jones , a photo by Graybill Images

Add caption

I was surprised at Bliss Hair Salon today to learn that young people (well, about thirty) did not know the country singer, George Jones, who died today at the age of 81. 

I found some nice video coverage of The Kennedy Center Awards in 2008 with Brad Paisley, Randy Travis, George Strait and Garth Brooks singing some of George's songs as well of him singing his most famous song himself. George Jones is sitting with his wife and President George W. Bush. (on You Tube)

George Jones had a home not far from where we live in Texas and was pretty much the epitome of the typical country singer. I just assumed everybody knew him, or knew of him.

http://youtu.be/1R2F9f2Cl6Y

Hi Grandma!

Ammon, a photo by Mark Griffith on Flickr.

Indigineous Canadian Talent - Stompin' Tom, Rita and Men of the Deeps, for Starters

The passing of Stompin' Tom Connors recently just reminded me of the truly great indigenous talent of so many Canadians. 

When I came to Texas in 1996, I realized how prominent Canadians really were in entertainment. But I want to tell you about  some truly great Canadians you may not know.

Rita MacNeil lived on Cape Breton Island. After she divorced, she went to Toronto where she cleaned offices. All her life, Rita wrote songs about her beloved Island and its people. Here is her version of Working Man which she wrote about the coal miners  of Cape Breton. My brother-in-law, Sen White, is a member of Men of the Deeps, a chorus of retired coal miners. You can listen to them performing with Rita on this song she wrote:

Stompin' Tom Connors came by his name honestly when owners of clubs where he sang started having to put extra boards where he would be singing because his heavy foot stomping wrecked their floors. Stompin' Tom was not so different from Rita in that he wrote about places and activities he knew.

The video I have chosen was taken at the Horseshoe Tavern which is on Queen Street in downtown Toronto.

The song I chose is "Sudbury Saturday Night".  Sudbury is about 230 miles north of Toronto and there is a nickel mine there so it is a typical working class city. This was perfect for Stompin' Tom who loved to write about the working man. Oh, yes, you heard it right, "The girls are playing bingo and the men are getting stinko . . ."

While large in land area, Canada has a population of only 34,000,000 people. Ninety percent of the population lives within 100 miles of the border with United States. In places like the Maritimes (Nova Scotia, Newfoundland and New Brunswick), Northern Ontario and many of the places you see when you look on a Canadian map that are a little more isolated than places near the U.S. border, people are very good at entertaining themselves and their friends. 

Enjoy what was originally to entertain their friends at home parties . . . 

Smiling From Greer To Greer!

smile!, a photo by seanbjack on Flickr.

When I was a child back in Toronto, I inherited my Father's crooked teeth and my Mother soft teeth . . . soft, crooked teeth. I had to have lots of fillings.

My dentist was Dr. Greer on Eglinton Avenue by the Theater and you had to climb a l-o-n-g flight of stairs to get up to his office.

Dr. Greer's main eccentricity was having me memorize bible verses . . . which actually may not have been a bad thing.

Dr. Greer's two elder daughters baby sat me and one of them became a dentist who practiced up in Muskoka (cottage country).

One of the younger children, about my age also became a dentist: Dr. Bill Greer.

When I came to Texas, I found a wonderful and kind dentist, named Dr. Ralph Rose who by then had more than his work cut out for him. About 25 years ago, a fall had caused me to lose several front teeth and Dr. Rose was able to make something permanent for me that has worked very well.

At Christmas this year, I started to have some terrible pain and when he came back from his Colorado vacation, Dr. Rose came into his office to assess just what had gone wrong.

Long story short, tooth roots go up into the sinus area.

Further long story short, Dr. Rose sent me to a dentist who specializes in fixing this.

His name . . . Dr. Bill Greer! No relation: from East Texas, but still what a coincidence.

Dr. Greer has a staff who have been with him a long time and I found myself very comfortable.

So, I was there today for what we hope will be my final surgery and it is still swollen.

But you know - for 1,600 miles from Toronto, I thought that was a pretty good coincidence!

Facebook Page For Aiden (80) - Have You LIKED it?

Rainbow, a photo by Earl Reinink on Flickr.

A few weeks ago, a college student who sings with me in our church choir asked me to add a 6-year-old boy named Aiden (nick-named "80") to the Prayer Journal that Hubby and I keep. This Saturday, she went to be tested to be a Bone Marrow Donor for this same boy at a gathering near us. There will be more chances to be tested to donate.  Aiden's Mother is a friend of another of my friends from church, worked with her and lived in the next town.

There is a very nice Facebook Page for Aiden. ONE LOVE FOR 80. 

Today, 80 is asking his Mother how many people are following his page. 

TODAY, I POSTED THIS ON MY SITE. PLEASE READ THIS WHETHER YOU ARE ON FACEBOOK OR NOT. (BET YOU ARE!)

HELLO TO MY FB FRIENDS FROM CANADA, UNITED STATES, LATIN AMERICA - DOG FRIENDS, ALL FRIENDS!

Since I have FB Friends in many different places, please take time to read about this little boy here in Texas (whose mother is from the next town). 80 is asking how many friends he has on his page and myself, I have been wondering why it has not grown more. 80 will not only steal your heart with his wisdom well beyond his years . . . you will definitely fall in love with him.

ONE LOVE FOR 80 is a Facebook Page for a boy named Aiden (nicknamed 80) who is six years old and in need of a Bone Marrow donor. I hope I have this correct. We have him in our prayer journal and have been praying for him every day.

Let's see how MUCH love we can summon up for this child. . . and May God Bless You!

Why Is Death So Sad?

Nativity Angel, a photo by traqair57 on Flickr.

In the past year we have lost my stepson and my husband's dear friend.

These are fresh and we are still hurting.

Seems like I have "lived" with death ever since I was a little girl and my Aunt Josie and then Uncle Lorne died. My Mother was especially sad and children take quite a lot from the adults around them.

Death is not a happy time; that is a given. But how many times is someone so very sick that you really cannot wish them to keep on living in this state of illness.

I am pretty ordinary - I am probably a lot like you and all your friends. But you know, today I was talking to my sister-in-law - a great gal who I dearly love and she was talking about someone dying.

Out of the blue (as we humans say), I said,

"You know, if we really are Christians - like we say we are - why does death make us so sad?"

(I had two children who died - you already know this - but even though they seemed to never have even had a chance, I cannot wish them to be alive because they were both very unwell children.)

My husband's friend was sick for a month and we visited him and saw for ourselves how truly sick he was. I cannot wish that man be alive and be so sick. So we think about the good times and we try to help his family to adapt to life without him.

When someone is suffering and perhaps cannot recognize everyone; when he cannot enjoy chatting to friends; when he (or she) cannot go to church; eat dinner with friends; chat with loved ones; hold their spouse in their arms . . . should we really wish they would continue in this world?

So, perhaps if we are honest with ourselves, the real difficulty is that now we must live - go on, as it were - without that person. 

At the bottom, I have placed some verses we all have heard many times. I hope it helps us to understand what we (as Christians) have always known.

We who are left behind must adapt to different lives - lives without the loved one who has gone. But we should not be afraid - either for our loved ones or for ourselves. We have learned since we were children, that Our Heavenly Father has prepared a place for us that will be like none other.

May God bless you and may God bless all who have lost loved ones and help us to continue here on earth until our time has come. While we are here, we can help others to adapt to their loses.

But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” - Matthew 19:14.

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also." - John 14:1 - 3.

But now he is dead. Why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.” 2 Samuel 12:23

So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.  2 Corinthians 5:6-8 

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4

Cemeteries . . . Memorials . . . Death

This week it was 42 years since my daughter, Carrie Jane, went to be with Jesus. Her final resting place is at the head of the grave of my father who died on my 22nd birthday. I miss being able to drive through this very special cemetery where I used to go to church with my grandmother. St. Phillips is a beautiful old Anglican (Church of England - Protestant) Church in Weston, Ontario in West Toronto. The graveyard is remarkable because there are so many interesting tombstones and the front, where my family's tombstone faces is on a busy street.

When my father was so very sick, he told my mother he wanted to be buried at St.Phillips - not "Wind Blown Acres". This was a reference to a beautiful cemetery at Alliston, Ontario where my mother's family was buried. When she was very young, her family used to take a picnic lunch to eat there after church on Sunday. It wasn't far from where she was raised on a farm in Innisfil (Barrie), Ontario, Canada. But her parents died within 6 weeks of each other when she was 14 and she moved to Toronto where she lived with her brother and sister-in-law. 

Mother was the youngest. Her father was married to Carrie and they had three children: two boys and a girl who died at about age 8. His wife, Carrie died in the dentist chair. (I have to assume that this accounts for my inborn fear of dental work. Hearing about that so many times would do that!) He then married her sister, Abigail and they together had two boys and a girl, my mother. Yes, that makes me the youngest of the youngest.

This past week, my husband's good friend also died. We had been to see Bill several times while he was in hospital and he was so very sick . . . 

There are some differences in visitations and funerals here in Texas. Some of it might be the time/generation and some of it would be Texan as compared to Canadian. (I know, I know, but you see the commercial all the time that Texas is a "Whole Other Country".)

We used to have more visitation time and less funerals were held in churches in Toronto. 

I want to tell you that the blog I posted over a year ago on The Funeral That Was a Gift still gets the most readers to this site. That funeral (or more precisely memorial) was the most joyous. That man knew he was dying and he gave all of us who attended the wonderful gift of his music.

Probably because I have had so many people die - or maybe because I am getting old - hard to say, but I am always interested in just how a funeral comes together. 

The biggest visitation I have probably seen was the one for my father-in-law, J.D. (Dee) Sutton who died - in his recliner, devotion bible in his hand - at age 94, less than a year into my marriage to Keith. Pretty much everyone in Robinson, Illinois came that night and we shook hands with so many people with so many fond memories of the man everyone in that town knew. 

The saddest funeral was for my Carrie Jane. It was a tiny white casket like the one described for the victims of Sandy Hook Elementary. It was February cold and only the very best of friends and relatives were there. I still think about that being one of the grimmest days in their lives as well as mine. (Carrie Jane was seven and a half months. She had been born microcephalic which means her brain stopped growing very early in the pregnancy. She was my second microcephalic child. The doctor telling me that no family has two children afflicted this way did not take away the pain.)

I once saw comedian and all-round humanitarian, Bill Cosby at the then O'Keefe Theater in Toronto. He did his irreverent stand-up of how he would have a recording in his casket, saying, "Don't I look nice?" Bill Cosby may be responsible - more than he knows - for cremations and closed caskets. 

In Toronto, we had Jewish neighbours and my Father had many Jewish friends from business. You may know that Jewish people bury before the next sundown. I suspect that is why they never came up to the casket, so the family had to go down to greet them and thank them for their condolences.

Funerals tend to teach you about people. We learn that most people are very glad that others would come to support them, give them a hug and say how sorry they are. We know that some people stay away - probably because of their fears about their own mortality. We learn that in our worst hour, some very fine people "step up to the plate" to help in whatever way they can.

Some bake cookies and cakes; some bring whole meals; some help with a eulogy, bearing the casket. Some people just show up. They don't have to be asked. Some come to give a hug and just exit the side door. 

Each of us probably has our own interpretation of what happens after we die. There are two books - one about a middle-aged man and one of a child - who were clinically dead and came back to tell what they had seen. Since they were both Christians, they saw the face of Jesus. Better than that . . . they are able to relay that to other Christians. 

The topic here is how we celebrate the life of a person and how do we comfort those left behind? Everybody does it differently and that is a beauty of this world where we live . . . for now.

   For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 

John 3:16  New International Version (NIV)

[People who read me on a regular basis might be interested to know that my first published article was in a Dog Magazine about a man who was killed on the way to a dog show in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. And the same person who encouraged me to submit that gave the Eulogy at my late husband's funeral. Some people are in your life for a reason.]

Another Child At Church . . .

http://youtu.be/5wRsW9Bw8P0


This morning at Church a sweet baby girl named Lexi (Alexis) was baptized. Her Grandmother just happens to sit next to me in the second soprano section of the Adult Choir. 

I knew she was going to sing a solo today, but when I saw her folder, I had to ask about it. You see, it was an old folder with yellowed pages. 

She told me her grandfather was the first one to sing it after Robert McGimsey composed it. 

It seems that Robert McGimsey was walking home from a midnight church service in New York City in 1932. He heard raucous noise coming from various bars as he made his way back to his small apartment. He was inspired to write this hymn or, because it is appropriate to Christmas, carol. 

My friend's granddaughter was so sweet in her beautiful white gown and she did not even make a sound when our minister took her and walked down and back up the church aisle. 

Her brother, who I think is a little more than three was on his best behavior too as his grandfather flashed away to capture such a precious moment. 

From where I sit up in the choir loft, I couldn't see "Lexi's" parents very well but I know it was a proud moment for them. 

(My friend has been attending our church since she was a little girl and knows all the people and all the tasks there are in a church. Best of all, this year, she cooked several turkeys to go out to shut-ins tomorrow morning.)

Again today, the focus of Christmas was on little children and what a blessing they are to us all, especially at Christmas. 

Silent Night; Holy Night . . .

"Whatcha Doing?", a photo by d_wooden on Flickr.

Last year about this time, I posted a blog, about this same subject of looking out into the Church Congregation and seeing children singing along with the carols. In light of how close it is to Christmas and also the terrible tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut, it is time to talk about little children again. 

Same carol as last year, about the same spot in church. Up in the Choir Loft, I can see these little children singing along. They all know Silent Night. They put their young elbows up on the pew - just like this girl has hers - and they sing right along. They all know the words to Silent Night. 

For 20 children, it was a very silent night and they met the man they have all learned about in Sunday School. If you believe, and so many of us do, all these children met Jesus last Friday. 

Suffer the little children to come unto me. . . 

Jesus loves the little children . . . 

One family went into see their little girl in her white casket and they took many colors of Sharpie pens with them. They drew colorful objects on that casket . . . butterflies and balloons and things their little girl liked.

Another family ordered many birds fashioned as brooches for people to wear at the funeral for their child who loved birds. 

I remember only too well the tiny white casket and I still think how awful it was not just for her father and me when Carrie Jane died, but for all our friends who came to be with us at her funeral. 

There is nothing so somber, so sad, so unfair, so bad . . . as losing a child. 

I lost a boy, Robbie at three and a half weeks and a girl, Carrie Jane, at six months. Both were born micro-cephalic which means their brains stopped developing at about three months into the pregnancy.

I recall the minister saying, "We do not know if she suffered." 

"Suffer" has two meanings at least. Last week's children probably did not feel pain because it likely was very quick. But perhaps they felt fear and panic.

The other suffer we know is when Jesus said one of the first things a child learns in Sunday School:

"Suffer the little children to come unto me." That takes the meaning of "allow" or "let". 

Little children are innocent and sweet. There is no pain like the death of a child. 

I still feel that pain today; it has never gone away. I feel the pain of all those parents in that community. 

God be with all the parents, grandparents, siblings and all the people who try to comfort each other. 

Lord, thank you for letting me, a humble soprano, look out each year to see beautiful children singing along with our so special Christmas carols. And, Lord, please take care of not just my children but all the children taken so young. 

Lord, please be with all the parents - all those left behind. 

And Lord . . . I know after all those years that there is no answer to the question, "Why?"