Murph

Wichita, KS

#532 Mar 2, 2012
JessicaAtriedes wrote:
<quoted text>
It might have powdery mildew. I've had to spray for that in the past. Hydrangeas seem to get it a lot too. I love gardening. It's so relaxing, plus it gives us a reason to play in the dirt.
I will check into that. Thanks. Hydrangea is another one that I can't seem to grow.

“Don't Worry Be Happy”

Since: Apr 09

Happytown, USA

#533 Mar 22, 2012
The STATION
By Robert J. Hastings
Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.
But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there our dreams will come true, and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering--waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.
"When we reach the station, that will be it! we cry.
"When I'm 18."
"When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes-Benz!"
"When I put the last kid through college."
"When I have the mortgage paid off!"
"When I get a promotion."
"When reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!"
Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.
So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.
ForgetMeNot aka tribemom

Plant City, FL

#534 Mar 22, 2012
Murph wrote:
<quoted text>
I will check into that. Thanks. Hydrangea is another one that I can't seem to grow.
I meant to sign out and re-sign in with my flower name.

Don't worry Murph. I can't even grow a weed.

:-)
Hyacinth

Finleyville, PA

#535 Mar 22, 2012
tribe mom wrote:
The STATION
By Robert J. Hastings
Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.
But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there our dreams will come true, and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering--waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.
"When we reach the station, that will be it! we cry.
"When I'm 18."
"When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes-Benz!"
"When I put the last kid through college."
"When I have the mortgage paid off!"
"When I get a promotion."
"When reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!"
Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.
So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.
How amazing. This could very well be the way. That is the way me and Mom have been living as much as I dare. She was so happy and told me yesterday, "I want to go home with you, and crawl into your bed, You tuck me in So nice. Today we thought we might lose her, but she rallied and seemed quite well (in her head) this evening.
You are a dear heart Tribe. Hope is always a wonderful thing.

“Don't Worry Be Happy”

Since: Apr 09

Happytown, USA

#536 Mar 22, 2012
Hyacinth wrote:
<quoted text>
How amazing. This could very well be the way. That is the way me and Mom have been living as much as I dare. She was so happy and told me yesterday, "I want to go home with you, and crawl into your bed, You tuck me in So nice. Today we thought we might lose her, but she rallied and seemed quite well (in her head) this evening.
You are a dear heart Tribe. Hope is always a wonderful thing.
;-)

Thank you Miss Hyacinth!

God bless you and your dear mom.

“tell it to the sock”

Level 5

Since: Sep 08

Location hidden

#537 Apr 11, 2012
God looked around His garden
and He found an empty place.
He then looked down upon this earth, and
saw your tired face. He put his arms around you and
lifted you to rest.
God's garden must be beautiful, He always takes
the best.
He knew that you were suffering, He knew you were
in pain.
He knew that you would never get well on earth again.
He saw the road was getting rough and the hills
were hard to climb.
So he closed your weary eyelids, and
whispered, "Peace by thine."
It broke our hearts to lose you but you
didn't go alone,
For part of us went with you
the day God called you home.

Vaya con dios, Mama Marley

“FOOTBALL”

Level 8

Since: Aug 08

Brother Love

#538 Apr 11, 2012
That's beautiful Tribe
Hyacinth wrote:
<quoted text>
How amazing. This could very well be the way. That is the way me and Mom have been living as much as I dare. She was so happy and told me yesterday, "I want to go home with you, and crawl into your bed, You tuck me in So nice. Today we thought we might lose her, but she rallied and seemed quite well (in her head) this evening.
You are a dear heart Tribe. Hope is always a wonderful thing.

“FOOTBALL”

Level 8

Since: Aug 08

Brother Love

#539 Apr 11, 2012
Amen
snarky wrote:
God looked around His garden
and He found an empty place.
He then looked down upon this earth, and
saw your tired face. He put his arms around you and
lifted you to rest.
God's garden must be beautiful, He always takes
the best.
He knew that you were suffering, He knew you were
in pain.
He knew that you would never get well on earth again.
He saw the road was getting rough and the hills
were hard to climb.
So he closed your weary eyelids, and
whispered, "Peace by thine."
It broke our hearts to lose you but you
didn't go alone,
For part of us went with you
the day God called you home.
Vaya con dios, Mama Marley
Marley

West Mifflin, PA

#540 Jul 9, 2012
snarky wrote:
God looked around His garden
and He found an empty place.
He then looked down upon this earth, and
saw your tired face. He put his arms around you and
lifted you to rest.
God's garden must be beautiful, He always takes
the best.
He knew that you were suffering, He knew you were
in pain.
He knew that you would never get well on earth again.
He saw the road was getting rough and the hills
were hard to climb.
So he closed your weary eyelids, and
whispered, "Peace by thine."
It broke our hearts to lose you but you
didn't go alone,
For part of us went with you
the day God called you home.
Vaya con dios, Mama Marley
I couldn't handle it back then, but now I can see the sweetest of thoughts. Thankyou Snarky. Today, July 9th, it gives me a remembering smile.
:)

“Don't Worry Be Happy”

Since: Apr 09

Happytown, USA

#541 Sep 28, 2012
KIDS WHO ARE DIFFERENT

Hereís to the kids who are different,
The kids who donít always get Aís.
The kids who have ears twice the size of their peers,
And noses that go on for days.

Hereís to the kids who are different,
The kids they call crazy and dumb.
The kids who arenít cute and donít give a hoot,
Who dance to a different drum.

Hereís to the kids who are different,
The kids with the mischievous streak.
For when they have grown,
As historyís shown,
Itís their difference that makes them unique.

- written by Digby Wolfe

This is a poem that is close to my heart. Some of you may recognize it. I hope you will enjoy.

“Don't Worry Be Happy”

Since: Apr 09

Happytown, USA

#542 Sep 28, 2012
I Come To The Garden Alone Hymn

I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear falling on my ear
The Son of God discloses.

Refrain

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

He speaks, and the sound of His voice,
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing,
And the melody that He gave to me
Within my heart is ringing.

Refrain

Iíd stay in the garden with Him
Though the night around me be falling,
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.

Refrain

^^^^^^^^^^

I love this hymn.

“Don't Worry Be Happy”

Since: Apr 09

Happytown, USA

#543 Sep 30, 2012
Remember that a SETBACK

is just a chance to

COMEBACK

better than before.

-Lisa Villa Prosen
Marley

Pittsburgh, PA

#544 Dec 18, 2012
Poem from my Mom
1982

by Veronica A. Shoffstall

After Awhile

After awhile you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand
and chaining a soul
and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts and
presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up, and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today

Because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans

and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After awhile you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn
that you really can endure
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every good-bye you
learn
Marley

Pittsburgh, PA

#545 Dec 18, 2012
Thank you Mom. I finally get it.
Petunia

Olympia, WA

#546 Dec 19, 2012
That's a truly beautiful poem. I loved it.

“Don't Worry Be Happy”

Since: Apr 09

Happytown, USA

#547 Dec 19, 2012
Marley wrote:
Poem from my Mom
1982
by Veronica A. Shoffstall
After Awhile
After awhile you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand
and chaining a soul
and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts and
presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up, and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After awhile you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn
that you really can endure
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every good-bye you
learn
This IS truly beautiful Marley. Thank you for sharing.
Hyacinth Bucket

Pittsburgh, PA

#548 Feb 1, 2013
Pronounced "Bouquet"

:)

I've spent a lovely afternoon napping, drinking lots of water,...apparently prednisone makes you thirsty.?
The wind has been positively theatrical with the drama of howling about the windows doors and locks
(I think it is minus something)
All of which seemed to lull me into a deep peaceful sleep. Seems the more horrible it sounds the more comforted I am.
I love my houses little sneezes, snorts, and shudders, along with the wind that turns to a low ghostly melody under the eaves.
Very peaceful when one dreams of how soon all will be well. Spring will be en route, and aches and pains will hopefully subside.
I am feeling a wonderful easing of tightness in my shoulders, hips and legs.
Darn foot isn't playing along just yet.
Hyacinth Bucket

Pittsburgh, PA

#549 Feb 1, 2013
tribe mom wrote:
The STATION
By Robert J. Hastings
Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.
But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there our dreams will come true, and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering--waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.
"When we reach the station, that will be it! we cry.
"When I'm 18."
"When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes-Benz!"
"When I put the last kid through college."
"When I have the mortgage paid off!"
"When I get a promotion."
"When reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!"
Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.
So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.
If she says she is not well enough for a shower, believe her....and give her a bedbath while keeping her body as warm as possible. Do not let the nice ladies from home health over whelm your Mom or you! They crowd in too fast!

And give Mom bacon for breakfast! Even tho her diet doesn't allow.
Spoon her fragile body at night, so if she wakes and throws her dentures at a fearful black cat,.... your words and hugs can reassure and comfort her, and her fears can be erased by girly giggles, tight hugs, and shush hing a shared lullaby.
Hyacinth Bucket

Pittsburgh, PA

#550 Feb 1, 2013
Her sweet laughter during these months, you will hear in your ears for years to come.
Hyacinth Bucket

Pittsburgh, PA

#551 Feb 1, 2013
No regrets.

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