You are beautiful both inside and out. Many people tell you this – believe them.

You are smart, strong, and wise beyond your years, yet you have much to learn.

Rely on yourself, have confidence, and stop worrying so much about what others think.

Follow your dreams – become a teacher. Don’t let others discourage you with their fears for your future.

Accept yourself as you accept others.

Your heart is huge and has a great capacity for love – never be afraid to use it.

You are capable. Be self-reliant and stop waiting for others to approve of you. It’s just not necessary.

Enjoy all that your diverse family has to offer, and the experiences provided to you. Your Mom is smart, kind, wise, and brutally honest. You are lucky.

Follow your dreams – don’t worry about what everyone else is doing.

Love yourself and your family. Spend time with them – for one day – you don’t know when – they’ll be gone and you’ll miss them horribly.

You are beautiful both inside and out. Love yourself as much as you love others.

Love as much as you possibly can. Live life to its fullest. And, always be confident in you.

Never ever sell yourself short.

I have endured things that have shattered me and could

have left me broken, but they didn’t.

I am resilient –

I endured our house burning to the ground.

I am resilient –

I have endured pain, loss, and sorrow that have knocked me to my knees, but I rose again.

I am resilient –

I have endured decades of living and loving and loss.

I am resilient.

I have survived a bus tumbling over an embankment in the Smoky

Mountains after the driver went to sleep.

I am resilient –

I have endured physical pain – broken bones, split body parts that required stitches, autoimmune disorders.

I have stepped on rusty nails, fallen off bicycles, had a finger and a leg slammed in a car door. I’ve had black eyes and bruises too numerous to count.

I am resilient –

I have endured emotional pain – the loss of 2 children, my father, my mother and my favorite aunt.

I am resilient –

I have endured divorce.

I am resilient –

I have endured precancerous cells in my cervix.

I am resilient –

I have endured 26 years of teaching middle school.

I am resilient –

I can be bent, but not broken, knocked down, but not kept down –  I get up again and keep moving forward.

My spirit is supple – I am strong.

I love life – the hard times have made me appreciate the better times. I love nature – it sustains and restores me –  its scents, sounds, and sights fill me when I begin to feel empty.

Nature nourishes me, and reinforces my resilience.

I am resilient. I am strong. I am irrepressible.

Maybe I’m a teacher because I love touching the lives of others.

Perhaps like my Mom – I just like people.

She touched so many lives in such positive ways – countless numbers

of my friends have told me how she impacted them and helped shape them-

how she was their other mother. We told story after story the other night –

many of them funny, but some of them serious about times spent

with her and around her. I know she’d have loved that.

She taught me to positively impact the lives of others,

to leave others better than I found them, or at least try.

I think I found the best way to do that when I chose to become

a teacher. And, I know middle schoolers need me most.

They need the calm, honest presence I give them each

and every day. They need my wisdom and guidance.

They need so much that I willingly share.

And, I in turn need them right back!

Sparkling diamonds shine down on us

from midnight blue sky –

from inky black sky –

pinpricks of light travel many

years to present their glimmering glory

in dark night.

Bright gems glow above –

Gleaming jewels decorate night sky.

One has to be willing to shift perspective

when approaching poetry.

It’s like climbing to the mountain top

to see how the view changes.

I think of poetry as a poet’s

soul distilled on paper. Poets

are trying to convey something meaningful

by allowing you to peek

inside to see what makes them tick.

Or, they’re trying to get you to

look at an idea in a brand new way –

shift patterns of thinking so that

you are presented with treasured new

gifts by looking through unfamiliar

lenses – an old idea seeming brand new –

catching a glimpse of the unexpected.

Perhaps, if you allow, a poem will speak

to you each time in a unique  way;

giving you countless sojourns

through the poet’s mind, soul, and spirit.

Nice sounds – there for the noticing:

Church bells in the distance,

A smile in someone’s words,

Beautiful music,

A child’s sweet voice,

Train whistles at night,

Bird song at daybreak,

A baby’s belly laugh,

Wind in the tree tops,

Tires crunching on gravel,

Sharpening of a pencil,

A gurgling brook rushing downstream,

The bounce of a basketball and

the squeak of shoes on hardwood,

The snort of a startled deer,

A tennis ball hitting the strings of a racket,

The crunchy squeak of snow,

And, lest we forget, the sound of nothing at all.

Silence – ever elusive – why are we so afraid of

being alone with the stillness of our thoughts?

Think of me as

snow shushes to earth

and blankets the ground

with white silence.

Think of me when the

river laps at its banks

after rain hurries to earth.

Think of me when the heavens

turn fiery as sun creeps

over winter’s horizon.

Think of me when water rushes over

the dam – spring rains bringing more

water than earth can devour.

Think of me when spring

awakens earth once again

filling her with fresh greens,

pinks, purples, and yellows –

after long dark monochromatic winter.

Think of me when leaves change

colors in fall and fill

our world with fascination.

Think of me when the moon is

round and full –

gleaming in night sky.

Think of me and remember

my love of life, nature,

and my willingness

to find beauty in the unexpected.

Think of me any time

Mother Nature provides

essential magic that

makes my heart and soul take flight.

Remember what makes us whole –

Being one with Mother Earth and

loving her unconditionally.

Here’s to unsung heroes –

those who do what they do with humility, dedication, and good humor –

Firefighters, emergency workers, military men and women, bus drivers,  policemen, store clerks, custodians, librarians,

maintenance workers, utility workers, construction workers,

secretaries, and bookkeepers –

you make everyone else’s lives a bit smoother.

Park rangers, road builders, road repairers, heavy equipment

operators, factory workers, engineers –

you keep things working for the rest of us.

Here’s to the teachers, child care workers, social workers,

psychologists, nurses, and guidance counselors –

you care, often when no one else does.

Who cares for you when you need it?

You have to take a bit of joy wherever you can find it.

So, with that in mind, I want to remember some  lighter moments

from the night before and the day of Mom’s funeral.

After the receiving of friends, we went to eat at Tom’s. Woodrow opened

his menu, looked at it for a bit, and said that he wanted number 1 – water.

Then on the morning of the service, I had to stop and put gas in my car –

I know I should have done it the night before, but it was late and I was tired, so…

I stopped in Puryear to fill my car with gas. As I was pulling back  onto the highway,

my phone rang. It was my sister-in-law telling me that Robert had forgotten his jacket

and he was going to stand by Highway 641 and flag me down so we could go ahead

to the funeral home as we had another hour of receiving friends before

we left for the graveside service. I asked where they were on 641 and was told

that they were over the rise! Well, if you know anything about 641, it is straight

as an arrow, and nothing but a series of dips and rises! So, I set off at about 70 mph, yes

we were running late, and just began looking as I topped each rise. Finally,

I topped the correct rise, and there was Robert waving his arms beside the road.

I stopped, he got in, and away we went!

Next, they were going to line up the cars  for the procession to Fort Donelson.

So, a young man came to get my “keys.” I asked if he knew how to drive a Prius. He

assured me that he did and had recently driven one. I handed over my key fob

and away he went. About ten minutes later, the same young man came back to ask me

to go help as they couldn’t get the brake released. I found out later that my nephew’s

wife and her mother were in the parking lot watching this unfold. There were 3 men

who tried to move my car. The ladies were laughing and said that it would probably take

only 1 woman. Right after those words came out of their mouths,  I walked out to

my car with instructions on how to release the brake so he could move my car. My car

was then moved into its rightful place behind the hearse.

Then on the way to the cemetery, I had the funny thought

that this was the only time that I wouldn’t have to worry about getting a speeding

ticket in Dover since the police escort was in front of me rather than behind me!

Later, as we were sitting under the canopy for the service, my grandson Woodrow, soon

to be 2, noticed the flower spray on Mom’s casket. He looked at me and repeated “pick it Grandma”,

“pick it” – he wanted a flower! During the service he was given a copy of the hymn we were

going to sing. He gave it to his Mama and said, “read it mama, read it.” At the end of the service,

after I “picked” him a daisy he said he wanted a pink one too. I then got him one of the pink

rosebuds. He took it from me and looked down at it and said, “Honey bee down in it.”

He and his Dad have been watching their honey bees this summer – he knows where they do

their work! By the way, there wasn’t really a honey bee “down in it” –  at least not right then!

Oh, and the minister had started a new medication that had her feeling dizzy, and at one point during the service she lost her footing a bit, and I was afraid she was going to fall.

Finally, during the service, my son, Will, and my nephew, Stewart – standing side by

side as pall bearers – (I know they were melting in their suits) had a hummingbird fly

up to them and all around them several times. It looked like it might land on them.

I bet Mom was in charge of that! Small bits of joy I’m sure my Mom was responsible

for. Small bits of joy to remember – something Mom would heartily approve of – for that

was her outlook on life.