Until Death Do Us Apart

man and woman kissing
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“Until death do us part.” This sentence is usually included when two people make their vows to each other on their wedding day. It symbolizes a sense of an unconditional kind of commitment, that, regardless of what may happen during the duration of the marriage, will remain strong and long-lasting. Unfortunately, many people fall short of this type of commitment for a variety of reasons…some realize their mistake and reconcile with their spouse while others may discover too late, that any kind of resolve is beyond restoration.

Today’s story is written by a man who made a bad decision with his marriage. He became involved with a co-worker, lost interest in his wife, and ended up learning a valuable lesson. It is my hope that his account of what happened to him and his relationship with his marriage will help encourage and inspire you to stay strong in the relationships of the people you love.

——————————–

A year or so ago, I came home one night and found my wife serving dinner. Walking up to her, I held her hand and said, “I’ve got something to tell you.” She sat down and ate quietly. Again, as it had been in the past months, I saw the hurt in her eyes. I tried to open my mouth and speak but couldn’t find the words. After an awkward moment of silence, I finally let her know what I was thinking. “I want a divorce.” I said calmly. She didn’t seem to be upset by my words, instead she asked me softly, “why?” I avoided her question. This made her angry. She began to yell and scream, threw away her utensils and shouted as I stood there and listened.

That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She just sat there quietly weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage, but I just couldn’t give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to my co-worker, Jane. I just didn’t love her anymore, I pitied her!
The next day, with a deep sense of guilt and sadness, I drafted a divorce agreement. In it, I stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. My wife, the woman who had spent ten years of her life with me and had become the mother of our child, was a stranger. I felt sorry for the time she wasted with me, the resources and energy she had spent with me, but I could not take back what I had said to her. The most important thing was that I loved Jane and loved her dearly.
Later that day, I came back home very late from work and found her writing something at the table. I decided not to have any dinner, went straight to bed and quickly fell asleep. I had spent a very eventful day with Jane and was dead tired. When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.
Early the next morning, she presented her divorce conditions to me. She didn’t want anything from me but requested that I give her a month’s notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month, we both try to live as normal a life as possible. Her reason was simple, our son had his exams later in the month and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.

I agreed to her terms.  But then she had something more…she asked me to recall how I had carried her into our bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that every day for the month’s duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going a little crazy but just to make our last days together bearable, I accepted her odd request.

I told Jane about my wife’s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was silly and absurd. “No matter what tricks or shenanigans she tries, she has to face the fact that the divorce will happen”, she said scornfully.

My wife and I hadn’t had any physical contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So, when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Behind us, our son applauded and yelled, “daddy is holding mommy in his arms!” His words
brought me a sense of pain and embarrassment. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; “don’t tell our son about the divorce.” I nodded and feeling somewhat upset, I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to go to work and I drove alone to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more relaxed. As she leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked this closely at this woman for a long time. I realized she was not young anymore. There were fine wrinkles on her face and her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me and gave our family a son.

On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again, and I decided that I wouldn’t tell Jane about it.  As the month slipped by, I discovered that it became easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.

She was choosing what to wear one morning. She had tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed and said, “all my dresses have gotten bigger.” I suddenly realized how much thinner she had become…which was the reason why I could carry her more easily. Suddenly it hit me like a punch in the gut, she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart and never once complained about it. Subconsciously, I reached out and touched her head and caressed her face.

At that moment. our son came into the room and said, “Dad, it’s time to carry mom out.” To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out of the house every day, had become an essential part of his life.

My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid that I might change my mind at this last-minute. Then, lifting her in my arms, I walked from the bedroom, through the sitting room, and to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally, I held her body tight…just like our wedding day.

But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms, I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and told her that I hadn’t noticed that our marriage had lost so much intimacy and the love that we once shared.

Then it happened.

I drove to my office and jumped out of my car without locking the door. I was afraid that if I waited too long, I would change my mind. I walked upstairs and Jane opened the door. I said to her, “I am sorry, Jane, but I do not want the divorce anymore.” She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead and asked, “do you have a fever?” I moved her hand off my head. “I’m sorry, Jane,” I said, “I made a decision…I am not going to divorce my wife. You see, my marriage had become boring and shallow because we didn’t value the essential things of our lives, it wasn’t because we didn’t love each other anymore. We had just lost sight of the important things that hold a marriage together. Since I began to carry my wife this past month or so, I realized that I had started our marriage carrying my wife into my house on our wedding day and I am supposed to hold and take care of her until death do us apart…and that’s what I am going to do”

Jane was stunned then, suddenly, she seemed to wake up. She gave me a hard slap across my face, slammed the door, walked away, and burst into tears.

I walked downstairs and drove away. I soon came upon a floral shop and had a great idea. I decided to order a bouquet of flowers for my wife! The salesgirl smiled then asked me to write on the little card that came with the bouquet.  I smiled and wrote, “I’ll carry you out every morning until death do us part”.

Later that day, I finally arrived home with the flowers in my hands, a smile on my face and a song in my heart. I ran up the stairs, burst through the door and called out my wife’s name. There was no answer. Puzzled, I searched each room, but she was nowhere to be found.  Finally, I went to our bedroom and found, to my great surprise…my wife in the bed. But she wasn’t moving or breathing…she was dead.

Unbeknownst to me, my wife had been fighting cancer for months and I was too busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon, and she wanted to protect and save me from whatever negative reactions and actions that may have come from our son if the divorce had taken place. At least, in the eyes of our son, I was a loving and caring husband.

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Folks, there is a moral to learn from this story: The small details of our lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansions, the cars, properties, or the riches that we may have. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves. It’s the little, unseen things that are the most important…love, faithfulness, commitment, and selflessness, things that money cannot buy, that makes a relationship, like marriage, endure the test of time. So, find the time to be your spouse’s friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy, love, and trust. For it is the unseen things in a marriage that no only have the most value…they are the most important things.

Here’s to successful relationships, thriving friendships, and happy marriages!

A Friendly Toast

woman and man cheering glass cup beside table during night time
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There is nothing better that having good friends. Having those special people that we can go and share our thoughts, concerns, as well as the good and bad times we experience, are simply priceless. That’s why, I believe, that whenever we can, we should take the time to honor our friends. friends truly are a blessing!

Today’s little poem is actually a toast. It is a nice little thing that you can share the next time you have the opportunity to make a toast and give a nice, small toast of thankfulness to your friends 🙂

Make new friends,
But keep the old;
The new are silver,
The old ones are gold.

New made friends
Like new made wine;
With age doth mellow,
It and refine.

But unlike age,
that turneth gray;
Old friendship,
Never doth decay.

So, make new friends,
But keep the old;
The new are silver,
The old are gold.

I Went to See A Friend Today

backlit dawn foggy friendship
Photo by Helena Lopes on Pexels.com

I recently came across a poem about friends and friendship the other day that is, in some ways, related to a previous post of mine, “Do It All the Way”. Friendships and the passing of time, are things that we need to consider more and more each day. The following poem was posted on May 6, 2016 by oldmainer It serves as a great reminder to us all!

 I Went to See A Friend Today

I went to see a friend today
A friend I had not seen
Since he was in his twenties
And I was still a teen

We were both inseparable then
See one, you’d see the other
Sharing everything we did. 
He was like a brother

But as so often happens
Too soon there came the day
When he decided to remain
And I to move away

We wished each other good luck
Recalled good times we’d shared
Said that we would keep in touch
See how each other fared

But of course that didn’t happen
The days just came and went
No phone calls were ever made
No greetings ever sent

How quickly the time passes
And friendships start to dim
Although we went our separate ways
I often thought of him

I wondered how he looked today
How he had weathered life
Did he still live in our old home town
Did he ever take a wife

One day I got a letter
And when I looked inside
I read I regret to inform you
That your friend has died

I went to see a friend today
As I’ve often said I would
To visit for a little while
My promise to make good

I wish that I could tell him
How bad I feel that I
Never took the time to say hello
Before I said goodbye

Friendships are precious. Be sure to take some time to visit the people that are special in your life. Enjoy the time you spend together and remember the good memories from the past.

 

“There is nothing on this earth more prized than true friendship.” ~ Thomas Aquinas

Poems to Make You Smile

five person low angle photography
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There is nothing better when a person is having a bad day than to laugh and smile. Anyone who knows me well knows how much I love to make people laugh and smile. I feel that that is one of my biggest blessings in life. The late Mother Teresa once said, “Let us all meet each other with a smile, for the smile is the beginning of love.” It is with that spirit, that I decided to post and few poems that I hope will bring a smile to your face, a moment joy to your heart, and an encouragement to finish your day on a positive note. If one of the following poems have lifted your spirits and have inspired you, feel free to share your blessing with other today!

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Keep on Smiling

~ Poet: Alexandra Skiathitis

If at times you feel you want to cry

And life seems such a trial

Above the clouds there’s a bright blue sky

So make your tears a smile

 

As you travel on life’s way

With its many ups and downs

Remember it’s quite true to say

One smile is worth a dozen frowns

 

Among the world’s expensive things

A smile is very cheap

And when you give a smile away

You get one back to keep

 

Happiness comes at times to all

But sadness comes unbidden

And sometimes a few tears must fall

Among the laughter hidden

 

So when friends have sadness on their face

And troubles round them piled

The world will seem a better place

And all because you smiled!

——————–

A Smile

~ Poet: Unknown

A smile is cheer to you and me

The cost is nothing-it’s given free

It comforts the weary-gladdens the sad

Consoles those in trouble-good or bad

To rich or poor-beggar or thief

It’s free to all of any belief

A natural gesture of young and old

Cheers on the faint-disarms the bold

Unlike most blessings for which we pray

It’s one thing we keep when we give it away.

——————-

Smile

~ Poet: Charlie Chaplin

Smile though your heart is aching

Smile even though it’s breaking

When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by

If you smile through your fear and sorrow

Smile and maybe tomorrow

You’ll see the sun come shining through for you.

 

Light up your face with gladness

Hide every trace of sadness

Although a tear may be ever so near

That’s the time you must keep on trying

Smile, what’s the use of crying?

You’ll find that life is still worthwhile

If you just smile

That’s the time you must keep on trying

Smile, what’s the use of crying?

You’ll find that life is still worthwhile

If you just smile!

If you would like to hear this poem in a song, CLICK HERE! (sung by Natalie Cole)

——————–

Try Smiling

~ Poet: Unknown

When the weather suits you not, Try smiling.

When your coffee isn’t hot, Try smiling.

When your neighbors don’t do right,

Or all of your relatives fight,

Sure ‘tis hard, but you might Try smiling.

 

Doesn’t change the things, of course-Just smiling.

But it cannot make them worse-Just smiling

And it seems to help your case,

Brightens up a gloomy place,

Then, it sort o’ rests your face-Just smiling.

——————–

Gladness Every Morning

~ Poet: Nixon Waterman

Touch your lips with gladness and go singing on your way,

Smiles will strangely lighten every duty;

Just a little word of cheer may span a sky of gray

With hope’s own heaven-tinted bow of beauty.

Wear a pleasant face wherein shall shine a joyful heart,

As shines the sun, the happy fields adorning;

To every care-beclouded life some ray of light impart,

And touch your lips with gladness every morning.

——————-

A Face Without A Smile

~Poet: Unknown

Like a bread without the spreadin’,

Like a mattress without a beddin’,

Like a cart without a hoss,

Like a door without a latchspring,

Like a dry an’ barren creed bed-

Is the face without a smile

 

Like a house without a dooryard,

Like a clock without a mainspring,

That will never tell the hour;

A thing that sort o’ makes yo’ feel

A hunger all the while-

Oh, the saddest sight that ever was

Is a face without a smile!

 

The face of man was built for smiles,

An’ thereby he is blest

Above the critters of the field,

The birds an’ all the rest;

He’s just a little lower

Than the angels in the skies,

An’ the reason is that he can smile;

Therein the glory lies!

 

So smile an’ don’t forget to smile,

An’ smile, an’ smile ag’in

‘Twill help you all along the way,

An’ cheer you mile and mile;

An’ so, whatever is your lot,

Jes’ smile, an’ smile, an’ smile!

———————-

“So, if you feel a smile begin, don’t leave it undetected, let’s start an epidemic quick…and get the world infected!” ~ Russel H. Conwell

———————-

Anyone can make you smile,

many people can make you cry,

But it takes someone really special

To make you smile with tears in your eyes!

A Sandpiper to Bring You Joy

Ekaterina Chernetsova (Papchinskaya)
Photo Credit: Ekaterina Chernetsova (Papchinskaya) via CC Flickr

There are some stories that are worth repeating..today’s story is one of them.

A year or so ago, I posted a story that I had come across simply called, “The Sandpiper.” Unbeknownst to me, the story that I published was one that had been copied and re-written by another person who wrongly took credit for it. Fortunately for me, the daughter of the real author, Mary Serman Hilbert, contacted me and told me the following…

“This story was written by my mother Mary Sherman Hilbert back in in 1978 and is copyrighted in the  US Library of Congress. It was published in Readers Digest in 1980. The story has been reprinted in over ten languages and made into two plays.

There are many plagiarized versions on the internet, including the one that has an MR. Peterson instead of Mrs. P. (Ruth Peterson) as the central woman, as you have posted here. Please read Snopes assessment here for accurate clarification of the story’s background: https://www.snopes.com/glurge/sandpiper.asp

My mother passed away New Years Day 2010 at the age of eighty-seven.

~ Leigh Hilbert, December 11th, 2017

Most people who have posted my mom’s story have had good intentions and had no way to know if it had been altered along the internet pathways.

There are a few correct versions online. I will post here the original version and you can maybe repost it.”

So, without further ado, here is the original, beautiful story of the Sandpiper…..

A Sandpiper to Give You Joy

by Mary Serman Hilbert

Several years ago, a neighbor related to me an experience that happened to her one winter on a beach in Washington State. The incident stuck in my mind and I took note of what she said. Later, at a writers’ conference, the conversation came back to me and I felt I had to set it down. Here is her story, as haunting to me now as when I first heard it:

She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me.

She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.

“Hello,” she said. I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.

“I’m building,” she said.

“I see that. What is it?” I asked, not caring.

“Oh, I don’t know. I just like the feel of the sand.”

That sounds good, I thought and slipped off my shoes. A sandpiper glided by. “That’s a joy,” the child said.

“It’s what?”

“It’s a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy.”

The bird went glissading down the beach. “Good-bye, joy,” I muttered to myself,

“hello, pain,” and turned to walk on. I was depressed; my life seemed completely out of balance.

“What’s your name?” She wouldn’t give up.

“Ruth,” I answered, “I’m Ruth Peterson.”

“Mine’s Windy.” It sounded like Windy. “And I’m six.” “Hi, Windy.”

She giggled. “You’re funny,” she said. In spite of my gloom I laughed too and walked on.

Her musical giggle followed me. “Come again, Mrs. P,” she called. “We’ll have another happy day.”

The days and weeks that followed belonged to others: a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, an ailing mother.

The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. “I need a sandpiper,” I said to myself, gathering up my coat.

The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was chilly, but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed. I had forgotten the child and was startled when she appeared.

“Hello, Mrs. P,” she said. “Do you want to play?”

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.

“I don’t know. You say.”

“How about charades?” I asked sarcastically.

The tinkling laughter burst forth again. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Then let’s just walk.” Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face. “Where do you live?” I asked.

“Over there.” She pointed toward a row of summer cottages. Strange, I thought, in winter.

“Where do you go to school?”

“I don’t go to school. Mommy says we’re on vacation.”

She chattered “little-girl” talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Windy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.

Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood even to greet Windy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding that she keep her child at home.

“Look, if you don’t mind,” I said crossly when Windy caught up with me, “I’d rather be alone today.” She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.

“Why?” She asked.

I turned on her and shouted, “Because my mother died!” – and thought, my God, why was I saying this to a little child?

“Oh, she said quietly, “then this is a bad day.”

“Yes, and yesterday and the day before that and – oh, go away!”

“Did it hurt?”

“Did what hurt?” I was exasperated with her, with myself.

“When she died?”

“Of course it hurt!” I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.

A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn’t there. Feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn-looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.

“Hello,” I said. “I’m Ruth Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was.”

“Oh yes, Mrs. Peterson, please come in.”

“Wendy talked of you so much. I’m afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please accept my apologies.”

“Not at all – she’s a delightful child,” I said, suddenly realizing that I meant it. “Where is she?”

“Wendy died last week, Mrs. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn’t tell you.”

Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. My breath caught.

She loved this beach; so when she asked to come, we couldn’t say no. She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks she declined rapidly ” Her voice faltered. “She left something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?”

I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something, anything, to say to this lovely young woman.

She handed me a smeared envelope, with MRS. P printed in bold, childish letters.

Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues – a yellow beach, a blue sea, a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed:

A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY

Tears welled up in my eyes and a heart that had almost forgotten how to love opened wide. I took Wendy’s mother in my arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, “I’m so sorry,” I muttered over and over, and we wept together.

The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words – one for each year of her life – that speak to me of inner harmony, courage, undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and hair the color of sand – who taught me the gift of love.

The Art and Skill of Listening

Egrodziak
Photo Credit: Egrodziak via CC Flickr

We all know that life in today’s world is getting faster and faster. Lifestyles are getting busier, more complicated, and less enjoyable. One of the skills that a good number of individuals have lost along the way, has been the skill or ability to actually be quiet, listen and hear to what people (or things) are saying.

How many times have you found yourself “going through the motions” responding to people in robotic, mechanical ways, and never really hearing to what is being said?

Let’s really take the time each day to stop and authentically listen and hear to what our friends, loved ones, or other things” are being said…the results may surprise you!

Today, I have included four very short stories that will illustrate the importance of listening to different things. I hope that these stories will help you in some small way, to maybe improve your relationships with people.

————————

Mr. President

The story is told of Franklin Roosevelt, who often endured long receiving lines at the White House. He complained that no one really paid any attention to what was said. One day, during a reception, he decided to try an experiment. To each person who passed down the line and shook his hand, he murmured, “I murdered my grandmother this morning.” The guests responded with phrases like, “Marvelous! Keep up the good work. We are proud of you. God bless you, sir.” It was not till the end of the line, while greeting the ambassador from Bolivia, that his words were actually heard. Nonplussed, the ambassador leaned over and whispered, “I’m sure she had it coming.”

The Signal Gets Weaker

I listen to my local radio station while I’m driving in my car. When I drive away from the radio tower, the signal gets weaker and weaker.  But if I turn the car around and drive back into town, the signal becomes stronger and I can hear it again.

In the same way, we stop hearing God when we drift away from Him.  But if we will turn around and come back to Him, we’ll hear His voice again. The closer we are to God, the clearer we can hear Him. “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you” (James 4:8).

Kent Crockett’s Sermon Illustrations, www.kentcrockett.com

 

The Ship Wreck

On December 9, 1902, on Mt Desert Rock off the coast of Maine, a young lighthouse assistant awakened the lighthouse keeper to tell him that he thought he heard a steamboat whistle nearby. The two of them went out into the bitter cold and saw, on the tip of a rock ledge, what appeared to be a wrecked boat. The two men took a rope and fought their way through the icy wind until they saw a tugboat with several men aboard pinned to the rock. It took several attempts, but at last they reached the boat, and despite the frigid conditions, pulled 18 men to safety. Had the young assistant keeper not heard the whistle in the night, some of the crewmen might have perished, for the boat sank shortly after the last man was rescued. Afterwards, as the survivors warmed up and talked about their ordeal, they marveled that their distress whistle could even have been heard over the howling wind and pounding waves. One of the seamen remarked, “That whistle was the voice of God; and thankfully, someone heard it.” (LecAid ibid.) God speaks to us. And when you hear that word, it brings comfort, solace, strength, guidance, courage, and wisdom. God speaks to YOU. And when you hear that word, when you LISTEN to that word, when you RESPOND to that word, you have in your hands a strong rope to lead you over the most troubled waters. For God’s word is the word of life. This is the word of the Lord! AMEN.

An Old Man’s Wisdom

There is a story told of an old man and his grandson who were walking down a business street in a downtown district. As they walked along, the grandfather suddenly stopped, turned his head slightly, and tweaked his ear. After a moment he said to his grandson, “Follow me.”

They slowly moved from where they were standing to a small planter box next to a sidewalk café. The planter was filled with various seasonal plants, but as the old man gently pushed back the flowers, behind them revealed a small bird’s nest filled with baby chicks; their chirping almost indistinguishable from the din of lunchtime dinners and people on the sidewalk.

No one seemed to pay any attention to the old man, his grandson or the little nest, but the grandson was amazed. After watching for a few minutes and then moving away the little boy looked up at his grandfather.

“Grandpa, how did you hear the birds? There is so much noise, so much happening, how could you hear?”

Without saying a word the old man took several coins from his pocket and tossed them on the ground.

With the tinkling of the coins on the sidewalk it seemed everything came to a stop. People turned around. Diners stopped eating to look their way. Several almost seemed to want to reach down and pick up the dropped coins. Then as quickly as it had happened – everything went back to the way it was.

That’s when the old man spoke, “It’s all in what you are listening for, my child, its all in what you are listening for…”

Sometimes I think we are much like the crowd walking down the street. We fail to hear the most important things in life. We’ve filled our lives with so much noise that it’s difficult to hear anything anymore. And when we do hear, we often mistake what we are hearing for what we want to hear instead of what we should be hearing.

Remember this little bit of trivia: The word LISTEN has the same letters as the word SILENT!

Perfect Love Will Never Grow Old

Bohemian Bowmans
Photo Credit: Bohemian-Bowmans

My wife and I will be celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary this year. It is amazing to me how fast the years have gone by. My dear grandma used to always say, “the older you get…the days get longer and the years get shorter.: Isn’t that the truth!!

The good Lord has blessed me and my family in glorious and mighty ways in those years. I have two wonderful, handsome young sons, a beautiful wife, nice house and the list goes on and on. The thing that I really hope and pray for almost every day, is that my sons will continue to be blessed and used of the Lord and that my wife and I will continue to grow old together for a long time.

One thing I really enjoy watching, is when I see an older couple who are obviously still “head over heels” in love with each other and are not afraid to show it. Thus, the reason for today’s post…a picture gallery of “the perfect love that never grows old!

creativefanDOTcom
Photo Credit: Creativefan.com
aliceenben.blogspot.nl
Photo Credit: aliceenben-blogspot-nl
etsyDOTcom
Photo Credit: Etsy.com
Francesco Mugnai
Photo Credit: Francesco-Mugnal
Tina Dombrowski
Photo Credit: Tina-Dombrowski
Swooned
Photo Credit: Swooned.com
The Bouqs Company
Photo Credit: The-Bouqs-company
touchn2btouched.tumblrDOTcom
Photo Credit: TouchTBTouched-tumbir.com
Viralnova
Photo Credit: Viralnova.com
Unknown
Photo Credit: Unknown

 

Saying Goodbye Can Be the Hardest Thing

Abbey1
Photo Credit: Unknown

I recently came across an incredibly heartwarming story on USHumor.com (not a funny story), that will melt your heart and maybe bring a tear to your eye. There are millions of people who have pets. Their pets become like another person in their family. They go to stores, walks, car or truck rides, trips, and a host of other things together. Pets grow up with their owners and become an integral part of their masters lives.

For many people, when their pets die, it can be absolutely devastating. There are some people that I know (and I am 53 years old), that still claim to this day, that losing their pet was one of the hardest and saddest time in their lives.

Thus, today’s story and the sweet response that someone decided to do to help mend a broken heart…..


Our 14 year old dog, Abbey, died last month. The day after she died, my 4 year old daughter, Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God. I told her that I thought we could…so she dictated these words:

Dear God,

Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she was sick. I hope you will play with her. She likes to play with balls and to swim. I am sending you a picture of her so when you see her, you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her.

Love, Meredith

Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, “To Meredith” in an unfamiliar hand. Inside, there was the letter that we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note:

Dear Meredith,

Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away. Abbey isn’t sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don’t need our bodies in heaven, I don’t have any pockets to keep your picture in, so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by. Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and send it to me. What a wonderful mother that you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember…I love you very much. By the way, I’m easy to find, I am wherever there is love.

Love, God

A Heartwarming Story of Friendship: The Jesse Owens Story

745px-Jesse_Owens3
Photo Credit: Wikimedia

I decided that for the next few blog posts, which I am going to share some great stories of friendships that I have found. When you read this (and other forthcoming stories), try to envision yourself in the environment and situation that these people were experiencing at the time. Hopefully, it will give you a “feel” of how they felt and why their story of friendship is so special.

The 1936 Olympics was held in Berlin, Germany. Adolf Hitler and the Nazi party had risen to power three years earlier and were already to spread their evil beliefs of racism and hate.  Hitler believed that the “perfect” person was from an Aryan race…a blue-eyed, blond haired, the perfect physique without any blemishes or handicaps.

Hitler saw the Games as an opportunity to promote his government and ideals of racial supremacy to the world. The official Nazi party newspaper wrote in the strongest terms that Jews and Black people should not be allowed to participate in the Games. However, when threatened with a boycott of the Games by other nations, Hitler relented and allowed Black people and Jews to participate.

After much deliberation and debate whether or not to boycott the Olympics, the United States and other nations decided to participate in the Games.

One of the American athletes was a Track and Field star named Jesse Owens and he was black. Jesse Owens seemed sure to win the long jump at the 1936 games. The year before he had jumped 26 feet, 8 1/4 inches — a record that would stand for 25 years.

As he walked to the long-jump pit, however, Owens saw a tall, blue eyed, blond German taking practice jumps in the 26-foot range. Owens felt nervous. He was acutely aware of the Nazis’ desire to prove “Aryan superiority,” especially over blacks. At this point, the tall German introduced himself as Luz Long. “You should be able to qualify with your eyes closed!” he said to Owens, referring to his two jumps. For the next few moments the black son of a sharecropper and the white model of Nazi manhood chatted. Then, Long made a suggestion. Since the qualifying distance was only 23 feet, 5 1/2 inches, why not make a mark several inches before the takeoff board and jump from there, just to play it safe? Owens did and qualified easily. In the finals Owens set an Olympic record and earned the second of four gold medals.

The first person to congratulate him was Luz Long — in full view of Adolf Hitler. Hitler was furious and embarrassed. Owens never again saw Long, who was sent out to the front lines and was killed in World War II. “You could melt down all the medals and cups I have,” Owens later wrote, “and they wouldn’t be a platting on the 24-carat friendship I felt for Luz Long.”

~ David Wallechinsky in The Complete Book of the Olympics ~

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This is an amazing story of how a friendship trumped the hatred and racism of a nation and a crazy man’s ideology! How thankful are you of the friends that you have? Could your friendship(s) withstand the “storms” of life and the hard times that might come your way? How much can you go out of your way to be a friend to someone in unpleasant situations? REALLY good friends are hard to find…and if you have one…Be THANKFUL!

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“Prosperity begets friends, adversity proves them.”  ~ Unknown ~

My Best Friend – My Dad

My Best Friend - My Dad
My Best Friend – My Dad

I think back of all the awesome times that I shared with my dad. My dad was a photographer (long before the digital age and the internet) and he would work a lot of weddings, take portraits, and snap pictures for organizations such as the local Little League or the Boy Scouts. We used to go on these road trips just about once a week, in which he would have to drive about an hour and half away to deliver pictures to a Boy Scout camp inNorth Jersey. He had this Ford Galaxy which he called his “sacred cow” that he loved and always took special care of. Under his driver’s seat, he had a cassette player, and he would play all this German music; the polka, beer hall, German bands, etc. He would blast the music all the time and I even got pretty good at “singing” the German lyrics. He even had a little German flag attached to his radio antennae. The rides home were always glorious. We would stop by the huge railroad station in Princeton to watch the trains come and go….man, how I loved watching those things whiz by! Then we would go to out to this diner and I would always get the same thing to eat….a cheeseburger, fries, and homemade lemon lime soda…hmmmm! I can still taste it to this day.

My father was an only child and he never, I mean, NEVER played sports or knew anything about athletics. He always was found reading a book and listening to symphonies but when my brother and I started playing Little League, he always came to our games, watched, and of course, took pictures. He used to take the pictures in such a way, that when he had the film developed, the pictures looked like baseball cards. We had our own baseball cards!!!!! Now THAT was AWESOME!! All the kids in our neighborhood used to congregate at our house and we would play baseball, literally, all day. It was such a spellbinding, magical moment when, for that one short time, my dad came out and tried to play. We thought that was the coolest thing ever….even if he wasn’t that good 🙂

My dad had his own little Photography Studio in a sleepy, seaside New Jersey town.  It was always a magical time when I walked into his shop, viewed all the pictures that he took, smelled the chemicals from the Dark Room, saw his set-ups that he would use for his photo shoots. In the autumn, every Saturday after the local high school would finish their football game, they would have a parade down Main Street if they won. It was a wonderful experience sitting there in front of his shop watching the players, cheerleaders and the band while drinking an ice cold soda.  On most Saturdays my brother and I would meet him at his shop and we would go across the street and eat this awesome pizza or baked lasagna then play Pac-Man while we were waiting for the food to come out. It seemed like everywhere we went, everyone knew my dad and he knew them. It was really sort of cool. After church each Sunday, we would go to the bakery in town and get freshly made Jewish rye bread. Man, was that GOOD! The bread would still be warm from coming out of the oven. The crust would be nice and crispy and the bread itself, moist and chewy. Then we would go to his studio and watch TV and eat snacks while watching Bugs Bunny cartoons. On our way home, he would tell my brother and I to make sure that we ate a lot during the Sundaydinner so that my grandma and mom wouldn’t get mad.

Since we lived around the ocean, my dad would take us fishing around some boating piers and occasionally fish at the beach itself, surf casting. But most of the time, we fished by the piers trying to catch Snappers (or baby bluefish) around dinner time and stayed there until the sun went down. There was nothing better in life then to sit by those piers, drinking a Welsh’s grade soda, watching beautiful sunsets and watching the moon and stars begin their nightly dance. We would find sticks and try to hit the Jellyfish to watch them glow (that’s what they do when they get touched at night).

So, here I sit today, smiling to myself remembering the many special times that I shared with my dad…his laugh, his smile and his corny jokes. Today, his photography studio is gone, the bakery sold out years ago, the diner is no longer there, the Boy Scout camp was disbanded a long time ago and all of my neighborhood friends have all moved away.  My love and admiration of my father will never go away and will forever be in my heart…..for my father will always be more than my dad….he will forever be…my best friend.

The Amazing Healing Powers of Animals: Caleb’s Story

Photo Credit: Sean Freese via CC Flickr
Photo Credit: Sean Freese via CC Flickr

This is a story of a young boy, Caleb, who was involved on a horrible accident which left him with various broken bones and a severe brain injury. Doctors said that he would probably never recover…or live at all.

Along came a therapy dog, named Colonel, that would change this little boys life, and his family forever.

It is fascinating to me how God can sometimes work His miracles through animals. It really does remind me of the true reason why God made animals and allowed them to live with us side by side.

This story is an amazing one…one that will touch your heart in a special way and warm your heart and, hopefully, remind you that there is always hope for a miracle when a situation may seem impossible.

This video clip will almost certainly bring a tear to your eye…so tissues may be required.


Tribute to a Therapy Dog
by Cheryl Goede

I am in the hospital, I must try and get well
The reasons why are varied, we each have our stories to tell
Some days are bad some days are good,
the wish to “get well” is understood
My body has grown weak, I’ve felt so tired,
but you walked in, and new dreams were inspired.
I was losing hope and at the end of my rope,
but your friendship saved, new hurdles are easily braved.
I walked the corridors with you, laughing with glee,
to have you with me was all I would need.
You cuddled me close, kissed my hands and my face,
your love is priceless, could never be replaced.
And if for some reason, I could not stay,
it wasn’t your fault, don’t think that way.
I’ll tell all the angels, when heaven I see,
how happy you made me, your love carried me.

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