The memory of the just is blessed.... Proverbs 10:7
Some how memories don't leave, to allow the mind to rest, they linger, they grow, not dimmer, but flourish with, present happenings, triggering those, those thoughts, again, of what was once, is now again. So real, yet so intangible, painfully so, always on the fringes of life's days, nights are shadowy, they flit here! Now they're leaving, absent, but a fleeting instant, returning, with companions. Each one as, a chain, linking one to another, their tensile strength, unbreakable, linking history. The wonderful past, with the now, causing pain, happiness, remorse, joy, sorrow, tears, laughter, memories, memories, oh, to shake off the years, as a burdensome cloak, to reenter for a moment, that page of time, now turned. by James Gargus
My dad hung a tire swing for my daughter 2 years before he died. She would play for hours on that swing. Sticking her body through the tire. She would twist the rope around and let it unwind with her in it. Spinning and laughing like it was greater than any carnival ride. The day she played on it for the first time was special to her. "Thank you, papaw, thank you, " was her reply that day. His enjoyment was the smile on his little grandchild's face. A simple moment for a love between generations.
There's so many things of which to write, of people I know, of things I've seen, of errors of wrong, and the good things of right.
But time speeds by, opportunities flee, they don't pause, they don't look back, they both are constants, not bound by procrastinations, such as fools like me.
Some sage may have said,"Give me the will, I'll find away"- to do the impossible, to think the positive, to right the wrong, to stretch my soul, to work while it's yet day.
Ah! the Imagination of the active mind, the romance of the heart, leads to dreams, excites the fantasies, creates the adventurer. What matters whether a role, or "real life" part?
If I feel my burden is too heavy to bear, I lay it down, I close my weary eyes, I really have small worry, I'll not be bound by the "passing life's" futile care.
by James Gargus
Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory. Psalm 73:24
The compass of my life is gone, will I ever find another?
I search for my guidance among the many voices, in futility, I shout why bother.
For no one cares about me and where I go, and the dead ends I encounter.
I can do this myself, my rage screams into the dark, as my soul is becoming numb and downer.
I can no longer cry, I can no longer feel, I have spent all my emotions, I am an empty shell, No longer able to be joyful and let my spirit fly.
These troubles have overtaken me, the evil ones have drug me down to their layers, confusing my mind, compass, oh, God, where are you? Show me the way to flee.
Speak to me, not with signs or wonders, talk to me like your child you left behind. The one who skinned his knee, and you rushed into to console. Help me see.
You said I could hear what you heard if I wanted too, but those songs of heaven you heard before you entered his bosom are beyond me. I only hear the echoes of my own voice coming back to me, shattering my mind with, "What do you do? What do you do?"
Hate, anger, and rage fill up my thoughts, at people that loathe me and hurt those I love, this is what consumes my sleep, without my compass, eating at who I am, who I was, the world around changing me, reshaping me into their mold, tearing at my sense of self, never satisfied until I am dammed.
I am to be silenced, the joy to be saddened, the happiness to be frowned, the peace to be chaotic, the love to be replaced by greed, not until I have been lanced.
Compass, I wait for the dream of you to come, to show me what you are seeing, hearing, and feeling. But only the silence I held to my whole life, which now threatens to consume me. You were my guide in this world of pain, your judgements guided by a higher life, in a world yet to come.
In my silence I continue to wait, for the day or night, by dream or vision, that my compass chooses to reveal this to me. To find out my fate. I wait, searching my heart, I wait, searching my mind, I wait, searching my spirit, I wait, searching my soul, I wait, helpless to help those around me, I wait, trying to lead a family falling at the seams, I wait, longing for a time with you. God help me, I wait, oh, compass, I wait.
Jim, darling, I hope you can see me down here. And know what I have been thinking. I know when you wanted to sleep in your own room toward the end that you were shielding me. You didn't want to let me know how much you really hurt. You wanted our granddaughter over here all the time. To help me through the soon to be loss of you. You was letting go and trying to help me. Where it wouldn't be so hard when God called you home. You was a wonderful, strong man till the last. Always thinking about the ones you love. Like when you was in the hospital, and you asked the boys to take care of their mother. Honey, I love you so much that it still hurts now that you are gone. You will always be here with me. Like as your health was failing, and you were coughing so hard that pieces of your lungs were breaking up and coming up. I knew your suffering was almost over, and the angels you were seeing was coming to take you home. For till then I keep holding on. Believing God was going to let you go home. The doctor said don't let him continue to suffer, let him go. Oh, how I didn't want to let you go. Not without me. I knew I had to let you go on without me. As you were hours from your last breath, I kissed you good-bye with tears in my eyes. I whispered in your ear to let go and go home. Take Jesus's hand and don't fight anymore to stay cause of me. I release you till we meet again, I told him. Sometimes late at night as I am crying, I can feel you right beside me with your hand on my shoulder. At your little granddaughter's basketball game tonight, you would be so proud of her. She never gives up like you, and a sense of humor like yours always teasing. She is so proud to say that she is just like her papaw. Braggingly saying that your the best papaw in the world, and she is just like you. Darling, I wished you could have stayed longer. But when God calls, he knows best. Thanks for trying to make things easier for me. And asking to forgive you for anything you might have wronged me on in this life. I had forgiven you of anything a long time ago. I always cared for you. You knew others wouldn't stand beside you and leave. But through it all in this life I would stand beside you till the end. You looked up and told me that I was so good to you. But you were the one I realized who was so good to me. I continue to love you, darling, and I go to my grave loving you. Your wife in waiting until that day, Lou
This is Laura Ann's, my grandmother and dad's mother's, hymn book. She sung him songs on those cold, winter nights in Tennessee out of this book. She reinforced his faith out of this book. Her voice singing calmed him when he was upset with words from this book. She died singing words from My Times Are In Thy Hands out of this book. I sung my father that song before his death cause she was waiting on her boy to come home. This book was found among my dad's meager possesions. It is worth more than anything to me. For it is some small part of my heart not calloused by a cruel, unforgiving world. by Lance Gargus
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