VERA
We knew where to find her on Wednesdays
We knew where her heart belonged
For just like our dear mother
Who cherished your Club like a song....
Caring & feelings of acceptance
Ladies who met near the Mill
Every Wednesday morning found Vera
At a Club called the Good Will.
She cross stitched and she quilted
While gossiping & eating a lunch
And when it was time to leave
She felt like hugging the bunch....
They were like her sisters
All Christians everyone
She knew they had her back
While she laughed & had some fun.
But one day her chair was empty
And they knew she wouldn't return
For Vera was called to Heaven
Albeit much too soon....
She left her mark in this place
Her work won't be forgotten
And her friends will feel her love
In every stitch and button.
About Me
- BoardWalk Angel
- Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada
- "On a windswept hill by a billowing sea, my destiny sits and waits for me".....R Brout
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
FAREWELL
The girl stepped outside the door
That had carried her this far
And as she looked all around
She stood beside the car.
This was her grandma’s town
A place she had grown up
And now that Grandma was gone
She, too, now felt grown up.
Sixteen years old on yesterday
She asked for just one thing
To visit the old hometown
Where grandma used to sing.
To walk where she once did
Along the old dirt road
And watched as life continued
Lessening her load.
But she found no local store
Nor a place to eat
She walked a bit further
Then she took a seat.
Beside a quiet Hibbard’s
Brook
She tried to smell the grass
Then dark came so early
She had to hurry fast.
Reaching for her backpack
She kissed the opened jar
She shook out the ashes
And watched from afar.
Grandma had returned
For her last & final rest
She said a prayer that ended
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Thursday, February 18, 2016
TROY
The call came in late last week
That Troy had passed away
The world stopped for a moment
And even to this day.....
It’s still unbelievable
He’s with us no more
But it’s comforting to know
Troy is with our Lord.
Looking back on our lives
To when he was a kid
He always was so very bright
A fact he kept well hid...
Rubik’s Cube or crosswords
He could do them all
Should have been famous
His name on a Wall.
Happy-go- lucky, always
A smile on his face
Never mind the demons
He often had to chase....
He faced his bullies unafraid
His faith in God was strong
And he never faltered
He knew right from wrong.
His best friend was his mother
Who, for forty-one long years
Stood right there beside him
Helped to still his fears....
They gave to one another
Unconditional love
And when their strength failed
It was sent from up above.
Now he’s gone forever
Tho his memory lingers on
Like a butterfly, he hovers
From a sad dusk until dawn....
We ask our God “Why?”
But he’s not answered yet
Because Troy and Jesus Christ
Have only just now met.
The days & nights pass slowly
The light has faded fast
And we cry, remembering
When we saw him last......
A peace will soon reappear
And we will all accept
That Troy was an Angel
We will NEVER, EVER forget.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
"Butch"
BUTCH
We met via a mutual friend and I was immediately smitten but not in any sense romantic. It would end up being an 8 year friendship built slowly and securely on honesty and trust.
He lived in Maine in a country I love & once lived in as well. We each had been married twice, had a son and a daughter, loved the sea and music. I introduced him to the only two singers he would play again......Nana Mouskouri and Daniel O'Donnell.
When I needed a bathroom built on a shoestring budget at my B & B on CSI, he arrived with his tools and I bought whatever else he needed at Wislons. This was in 2004 so I could get a license!
He helped me out in so many ways so my business could get off the ground. He has always been there for me and I knew I could call him 24/7 with anything and he would drop everything to listen, to come, to help.
He drove over here in the middle of winter to help me move to Tantallon in 2009 after selling my B & B. I finally was able to repay him for all his services but he hesitated to take it. I had to insist!
I called him "Mr Fix It." He simply called me "Hon."
He was an ex Military soldier who almost died for his country while helping save other lives. He lost many close friends in Vietnam but wouldn't speak about it.He was one of the first on the scene at Nine Eleven in NYC. He had been a Paramedic; a sea Captain; a deep sea diver; his last career a real estate Agent. He would give a stranger his very last dollar! And he did!
His late wife was an RN who had died of cancer and he was so proud of her courage and his love for her was unlimited. He rode his Harley and spent many hours alone missing her. I know she was watching over him.
I used to coax him to attend church and not long ago he called to tell me he had just done so. He actualy felt welcomed and was thrilled.
But when he became too short winded to continue his exercise program (incl. 100 push-ups each morning) and such, he decided to go ahead with having a pig's valve put in his heart. In retrospect, I wish he had not. It's better to be short winded than dead at just 65.
He was too stubborn and impatient and independent to be discharged so soon from the hospital in Bangor, Maine. He promised me that he would wait the required 6 weeks to do anything at all but unbeknowst to me, he drove himself back home, a 2 hour drive.
I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't carry in wood and get supplies at the store. His neighboring daughter found him the following night......in bathrobe and slippers......been dead awhile.
I tried to watch our favourite TV show last night as he got CBC in Maine and loved Coronation Street. But just the sound of the music brought me to tears. Who would I complain to about Carla and who will I call when John Stape goes to court for Fizz's trial?
I will miss him. I do already.....
We met via a mutual friend and I was immediately smitten but not in any sense romantic. It would end up being an 8 year friendship built slowly and securely on honesty and trust.
He lived in Maine in a country I love & once lived in as well. We each had been married twice, had a son and a daughter, loved the sea and music. I introduced him to the only two singers he would play again......Nana Mouskouri and Daniel O'Donnell.
When I needed a bathroom built on a shoestring budget at my B & B on CSI, he arrived with his tools and I bought whatever else he needed at Wislons. This was in 2004 so I could get a license!
He helped me out in so many ways so my business could get off the ground. He has always been there for me and I knew I could call him 24/7 with anything and he would drop everything to listen, to come, to help.
He drove over here in the middle of winter to help me move to Tantallon in 2009 after selling my B & B. I finally was able to repay him for all his services but he hesitated to take it. I had to insist!
I called him "Mr Fix It." He simply called me "Hon."
He was an ex Military soldier who almost died for his country while helping save other lives. He lost many close friends in Vietnam but wouldn't speak about it.He was one of the first on the scene at Nine Eleven in NYC. He had been a Paramedic; a sea Captain; a deep sea diver; his last career a real estate Agent. He would give a stranger his very last dollar! And he did!
His late wife was an RN who had died of cancer and he was so proud of her courage and his love for her was unlimited. He rode his Harley and spent many hours alone missing her. I know she was watching over him.
I used to coax him to attend church and not long ago he called to tell me he had just done so. He actualy felt welcomed and was thrilled.
But when he became too short winded to continue his exercise program (incl. 100 push-ups each morning) and such, he decided to go ahead with having a pig's valve put in his heart. In retrospect, I wish he had not. It's better to be short winded than dead at just 65.
He was too stubborn and impatient and independent to be discharged so soon from the hospital in Bangor, Maine. He promised me that he would wait the required 6 weeks to do anything at all but unbeknowst to me, he drove himself back home, a 2 hour drive.
I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't carry in wood and get supplies at the store. His neighboring daughter found him the following night......in bathrobe and slippers......been dead awhile.
I tried to watch our favourite TV show last night as he got CBC in Maine and loved Coronation Street. But just the sound of the music brought me to tears. Who would I complain to about Carla and who will I call when John Stape goes to court for Fizz's trial?
I will miss him. I do already.....
Monday, January 16, 2012
The Phone Call
I borrowed the body of this short story from my late Aunt's own handwritten narrative.....this is my condensed version.
THE PHONE CALL
A phone call can change one's life in an instant. Such was the case on Feb. 15th, 1981 when the telephone aroused my Aunt at 9:15 pm. in her senior's apt. in Shelburne, Nova Scotia.
My mother's eldest sister was my Aunt Marjorie who was born in 1900 in Barrington, N.S. She loved it when our many cousins from Mass. arrived in the summers to spend their vacations with us. Others arrived with their families as well and she made new friends, one of them named Charlie Knowles, when they were both just 10 years old.
They became good friends and corresponded by mail and lived for summertime. At aged 17, they admitted to being in love and promised to wait for one another. He sent her his class picture and she sent him a blue silk Japanese handkerchief, thus sealing their vows.
The following summer, Charlie had to stay in Mass. to work and she missed him. But she stayed busy working and assisting in raising funds for the Red Cross. World War 1 was upon them and life was all about effords to raise money.
The following summer a new bank clerk came to town and all the girls set out to get him; only my Aunt Marjorie was successful. They married in 1921.
She and Uncle Lawrence moved to Mass. in 1923 where she began a career with a major bank until they retired in 1969. Then they moved back to Canada after my grandparents death when Marjorie inherited the old homestead.
Their marriage was a rough one but held together for nearly 60 years; they had adopted a 2 year old girl and raised her in Mass. Aunt Marjorie had maintained a correspondence with Charlie's sister, Grace and knew of Charlie's three marriages.
In Sept. 1978, Uncle Lawrence suffered a stroke and died in his sleep at home. That Christmas was a very lonely one for my Aunt who sent out few cards but one to Grace, mentioning she was now a widow.
All during her married life, she had not forgotton Charlie; his memory was always very precious.
But it was quite a surprise when the phone rang on Feb. 15th, 1981 and it was his voice which she recognized immediately (tho she did not let him become aware of that fact). She trembled like a foolish teenager while her racing heart skipped a few beats!
The night was a sleepless one as she grappled with so many conflicting thoughts going thru her head. At aged 81, she never dreamed this might ever happen.
He had invited her to Fla to look over the situation and to consider starting in where they had left off. Eight days later she arrived in Tampa!
One day shortly after her arrival and before her mind was made up, Charlie called her into his bedroom where he was clutching the corner of a blue Japanese silk handkerchief. "Don't tell me you have kept that hankie after all these decades and thru three marriages?" she asked.
How could she do otherwise but to accept his proposal? He proudly wore it in the lapel pocket of his coat on their wedding day, March 7th, 1981 (exactly 71 years since they had first met on summer vacation).
Aunt Marjorie was truly in love with her Prince Charlie! And he her! They made sweet music and shared many wonderful months together but sadly, the Grim Reaper paid his visit to dear Charlie on Dec. 3rd, 1982, ending their storybook romance. Their love, which lay buried for so many long years, came alive and the mystery of a deep and abiding devotion, encircled them.
Aunt Marjorie moved back to Barrington where she resided until her death at aged 94. At her request, half of her ashes are buried in Shelburne, N.S. with Uncle Lawrence and the other half with her Charlie in Fla.
THE PHONE CALL
A phone call can change one's life in an instant. Such was the case on Feb. 15th, 1981 when the telephone aroused my Aunt at 9:15 pm. in her senior's apt. in Shelburne, Nova Scotia.
My mother's eldest sister was my Aunt Marjorie who was born in 1900 in Barrington, N.S. She loved it when our many cousins from Mass. arrived in the summers to spend their vacations with us. Others arrived with their families as well and she made new friends, one of them named Charlie Knowles, when they were both just 10 years old.
They became good friends and corresponded by mail and lived for summertime. At aged 17, they admitted to being in love and promised to wait for one another. He sent her his class picture and she sent him a blue silk Japanese handkerchief, thus sealing their vows.
The following summer, Charlie had to stay in Mass. to work and she missed him. But she stayed busy working and assisting in raising funds for the Red Cross. World War 1 was upon them and life was all about effords to raise money.
The following summer a new bank clerk came to town and all the girls set out to get him; only my Aunt Marjorie was successful. They married in 1921.
She and Uncle Lawrence moved to Mass. in 1923 where she began a career with a major bank until they retired in 1969. Then they moved back to Canada after my grandparents death when Marjorie inherited the old homestead.
Their marriage was a rough one but held together for nearly 60 years; they had adopted a 2 year old girl and raised her in Mass. Aunt Marjorie had maintained a correspondence with Charlie's sister, Grace and knew of Charlie's three marriages.
In Sept. 1978, Uncle Lawrence suffered a stroke and died in his sleep at home. That Christmas was a very lonely one for my Aunt who sent out few cards but one to Grace, mentioning she was now a widow.
All during her married life, she had not forgotton Charlie; his memory was always very precious.
But it was quite a surprise when the phone rang on Feb. 15th, 1981 and it was his voice which she recognized immediately (tho she did not let him become aware of that fact). She trembled like a foolish teenager while her racing heart skipped a few beats!
The night was a sleepless one as she grappled with so many conflicting thoughts going thru her head. At aged 81, she never dreamed this might ever happen.
He had invited her to Fla to look over the situation and to consider starting in where they had left off. Eight days later she arrived in Tampa!
One day shortly after her arrival and before her mind was made up, Charlie called her into his bedroom where he was clutching the corner of a blue Japanese silk handkerchief. "Don't tell me you have kept that hankie after all these decades and thru three marriages?" she asked.
How could she do otherwise but to accept his proposal? He proudly wore it in the lapel pocket of his coat on their wedding day, March 7th, 1981 (exactly 71 years since they had first met on summer vacation).
Aunt Marjorie was truly in love with her Prince Charlie! And he her! They made sweet music and shared many wonderful months together but sadly, the Grim Reaper paid his visit to dear Charlie on Dec. 3rd, 1982, ending their storybook romance. Their love, which lay buried for so many long years, came alive and the mystery of a deep and abiding devotion, encircled them.
Aunt Marjorie moved back to Barrington where she resided until her death at aged 94. At her request, half of her ashes are buried in Shelburne, N.S. with Uncle Lawrence and the other half with her Charlie in Fla.
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