This blog does not contain and its author will not condone profanity, crude language, or verbal abuse. Commenters, you are welcome to speak your mind but do not cuss or I will delete either the word or your entire comment, depending on my mood. Continued use of bad words or inappropriate sentiments will result in the offending individual being banned, after which they'll be obliged to walk the plank. Thankee for your understanding and compliance.
Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.
Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal.
And then there was the Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f:3.5-5.6G ED VR II zoom. We're done here.
Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;
But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.
But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:
In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.
For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.
For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.
We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;
Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;
Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.
For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.
So then death worketh in us, but life in you.
We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I BELIEVED, AND THEREFORE HAVE I SPOKEN; we also believe, and therefore speak;
Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.
For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.
For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.
For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;
While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.
II Corinthians 4
>>>>++<<<<
THE DREAMERS
In the dawn of the day of ages,
In the youth of a wondrous race,
'Twas the dreamer who saw the marvel,
'Twas the dreamer who saw God's face.
On the mountains and in the valleys,
By the banks of the crystal stream,
He wandered whose eyes grew heavy
With the grandeur of his dream.
The seer whose grave none knoweth,
The leader who rent the sea,
The lover of men who, smiling,
Walked safe on Galilee --
All dreamed their dreams and whispered
To the weary and worn and sad
Of a vision that passeth knowledge.
They said to the world: "Be glad!
"Be glad for the words we utter,
Be glad for the dreams we dream;
Be glad, for the shadows fleeing
Shall let God's sunlight beam."
But the dreams and the dreamers vanish,
The world with its cares grows old;
The night, with the stars that gem it,
Is passing fair, but cold.
What light in the heavens shining
Shall the eye of the dreamer see?
Was the glory of old a phantom,
The wraith of a mockery?
Oh, man, with your soul that crieth
In gloom for a guiding gleam,
To you are the voices speaking
Of those who dream their dream.
If their vision be false and fleeting,
If its glory delude their sight --
Ah, well, 'tis a dream shall brighten
The long, dark hours of night.
> Edward Sims Van Zile <
>>>>++<<<<
Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.
Like early Ford automobiles: You can have any color you want as long as it's black.
I'm back in Greenville, at my dying mother's bedside.
I was gone for about a week for a long-scheduled trip to the beach with my family, and her health has further declined since I was last here.
There is a recliner in her room so I sit here while she naps, listening to the droning motor and periodic gasping sound of her oxygen machine.
We have busy mornings getting her fed and situated, then waiting for the hospice nurse and aide to come and tend to Mom's needs in ways that we cannot because we aren't trained that way.
So I thank God for those dedicated and compassionate, always-cheerful souls.
Yesterday as I sat in the room that was semi-dark because it was cloudy outside, Mom got my attention and pointed to the little table beside the chair I occupied.
Have some candy, she said. Shawn brought it and I can't eat it.
Ever obedient to my mother and anxious to do as I was told without delay, I looked and saw the iconic box of Russell Stover chocolates to which she referred.
I couldn't believe I'd missed it.
(Shawn, my baby brother, lives in Galveston, Texas and has flown in several times to spend a few days with Mom. Having been here in my brief absence, he brought flowers as always, but this time had presented her with a box of candy too. Good man.)
I lifted the lid and chose a chocolate. At exactly the same time, Brittany texted me so I took a picture of the candy and sent it to her, figuring she could drool over it from afar.
I got a raspberry cream, I told her.
Later I pilfered another piece from a different section of the box and was amazed to learn that, twice in a row, I had randomly chosen a raspberry cream.
Or creme, as I like to think of it.
So then today, after lunch, Mom again napping, I looked over and saw the box of chocolates.
Quietly so as not to get caught wake her, I reached in and chose another candy, wondering what I'd get.
Raspberry creme cream. Again.
Then the nickel dropped and I inspected the collection of chocolates with suspicion.
They're ALL raspberry creme creams, I realized. Every last one of them.This is not an assortment but a big box of all the same thing.
Meet Skelly: A gift from my tar heel grandchildren while we were at the beach.
That explains why there was no legend on the inside of the box, functioning as a treasure map as it were, to lead a pirate to her preferred varieties and helping said pirate to avoid biting into one containing toothpaste.
(Having done me pirate research, I now know that technically these candies are referred to as Dark Chocolate Raspberry Parfaits, and yes they are sold in thirteen-point-five-ounce boxes that, once the outer wrapper is removed, does not readily identify what sort of confection is within.)
If you arrive late to the party, as I did, you have no choice but to sample them. Which I am happy to exercise my pirate privilege and do.
And in this case, with delicious results.
But this box of chocolates reminds me of liberals. No matter what you think you may get, you're always going to get the same thing.
And unlike what comes in a Russell Stover box, you're not going to like it.
L to R Kay, Mom, me :: August 1, 2020 :: Simpsonville, South Carolina
I'm in Greenville, South Carolina, sitting with my mother.
On July thirty-first of this year, she received a diagnosis of advanced pancreatic cancer that had already spread to her liver.
After a difficult month which included many diagnostic tests and much terrifying illness and several scary episodes and a few procedures and a five-day hospital stay, my mother has declined further treatment and is in the care of her family and hospice.
Mom and great-granddaughter Dagny at Cracker Barrel, a day after the diagnosis
She is eighty-three years old.
It is the first time in my life that I have seen my mother seriously ill -- or ill at all.
On her initial visit with the oncologist, he was incredulous at her medical records. Or lack thereof.
Henry and Dagny and the birthday cake
How is it possible that you have lived over eight decades without needing to consult with a doctor? he wanted to know.
It isn't so much that she has never seen a doctor, as it is that she has seen doctors primarily for routine matters, more to do with wellness than with illness.
Ember came to hang out with Great-Grandma
I can also count on one hand, with fingers left over, the number of times in my life that I have seen my mother cry. And this time is no exception.
She does not go in for self-pity or melancholy, but rather is known for her extraordinary energy and enthusiasm fueled by optimism.
Grandma and Grandpa with Andrew and Brittany and Baby Ember
Her hope is in the Lord. I just want whatever He has for me, she says.
She is weak and tires easily but thus far, there is no pain. She is still eating fairly well although she's lost a significant amount of weight. She sleeps soundly at night, in the hospital bed that is set up in her room next to the bed where Henry, her husband of thirty-seven years, sleeps.
Mom was bedridden for the better part of three weeks
She has reported that if she stirs in the night for any reason, Henry is up and by her side. And he is distinctly hard of hearing.
It was July twenty-third when my mother texted me to say that she had gone to the doctor complaining of fatigue.
Henry and Mom praying at lunchtime on the day she came home from the hospital
Blood tests revealed liver enzyme levels that were off the charts.
A scan on July thirtieth confirmed the diagnosis.
Setting up the hospital bed
The next day, my mother's doctor came to her door. She knew his reason for coming but welcomed him into her house and told him not to worry.
He said that he and his wife (they are longtime family friends) love Mom too much for him to have given her the news over the phone.
Dagny with her Great-Uncle Shawn
Mom called me later that day. I was hanging out in the shallow end of the pool; Audrey was there and heard my phone, and brought it to me.
So I'll never forget where I was standing when my mother said to me, Well, it's not good news.
Our Stephanie with husband Joel, plus Allissa (on the bed), Melanie, and Little Andrew
Her own mother died of pancreatic cancer at the age of sixty-two.
The next day -- August first -- Audrey, Dagny, TG and I drove to Simpsonville, South Carolina, where we met Mom, Henry, my sister Kay, and her husband Philippe, at Cracker Barrel.
Audrey and Dagny
It was to celebrate Henry turning eighty-eight on August fourth.
Mom was severely jaundiced and didn't have much in the way of an appetite, but her smile was undimmed.
Audrey and Erica
We enjoyed our lunch, then sliced up Henry's birthday cake -- after he posed with Dagny.
I promised Mom that I'd come to Greenville the following week, for several days.
Mom and her little brother Dodie
Later the next week, Audrey and Dagny, together with Chad and Erica, traveled to the Upstate to see Grandma.
They helped with cooking and other chores, and spent time with her.
I have always loved you
That Sunday, Mom had a day with many physical difficulties. She'd had a stent placed to help with the jaundice, and in the aftermath she suffered multiple mini-strokes.
I wasn't there, having planned to go back the next day. But my sister texted and was so worried, TG and I rushed up to Greenville a day early.
Take care of yourself
Mom made it through that crisis, but the next few weeks saw her suffer more. She was hospitalized for five days.
Upon coming home from the hospital, having been treated for sepsis, Mom felt markedly better. She has continued to feel relatively well since then.
Siblings and friends
The month of August was busy with many comings and goings. My baby brother Shawn flew from his home in Galveston, Texas, to be with mom for ten days. He flew home and, a week or so later, came back for another two days. He may return as early as next week.
My mother is the eldest of four sibliings. The middle two -- her brother Sherrill and her sister Linda -- are gone. Her little brother, Dodie -- my favorite uncle -- traveled from Louisiana with his wife, Leslee, to see Mom.
Farewell for now
They stayed only one day, but the pictures of Mom and Dodie that that short visit yielded, are as irreplaceable as both of them.
He will never see his sister again until we never say goodbye in Glory.
My babies
Andrew and Brittany and baby Ember came to see Grandma not once, but twice. Andrew has since left for Officer Training School at Maxwell Air Force Base in Montgomery, Alabama, and has no liberty to leave until late October.
Audrey and Dagny and Chad and Erica came and cooked and helped and loved on Grandma.
With the five grands added in, plus s-i-l Joel and d-i-l Brittany ... only our Chad is missing
Stephanie and Joel and the children came to lend their support.
I was able to get a picture of all four of my children together, which is rare.
Just some of her many bouquets
Then I posed up the kids and their beloveds and all five of the grandchildren. The only one missing was our Chad, Erica's husband, who had already gone home.
As I have been here with Mom and Henry this week, there have been so many cards and letters (seventy-two at last count), phone calls, thoughtful texts, floral tributes, donated meals, heartfelt gifts, and in-person visits that I do believe we need to install a revolving door and a switchboard.
Our sole grandson ... we call him Little Andrew
Today, among her many visitors was a twelve-year-old girl who in the last few years has bonded with my mother at church.
Throughout Covid, Mom and Ina have been pen pals. Today was the first time Mom had seen her friend in many months. Ina brought Mom a tiny succulent, and Mom had a gift for her too.
Cousins: Allissa and Ember
My sister Kay, who lives a few miles from Mom. has seven children and twenty grandchildren. Three of her children live locally, but the other four live in Ohio, Indiana, Idaho, and Canada.
They have all come to visit in recent days. Several have come twice. Some are here now; some left only yesterday; one is due in later tonight after driving for many hours.
My baby brother Shawn: always either coming or going
My nieces have cleaned the house and cooked meals and run errands and fussed over their grandparents. The ones who live here have changed endless bed linens and served countless meals and watched a legion of little ones, freeing everyone to visit with and dote on Grandma.
Earlier this week, we had a pizza party at Mom's neighborhood pool. There were so many of us, I lost count. Kids everywhere, having a blast in the summer sunshine. Mom sat on the sidelines in a shaded lounger and enjoyed watching her extended brood splash and play and shriek and chow down and talk, talk, talk.
Friends to the end ... Mom is wearing a bracelet that Ina made for her
Mom and Henry have been overwhelmed at the love and concern shown for them in such tangible ways. It has pointed out to me that where there is heartache and trouble, expressions of love and care -- no matter how small or great -- from loved ones and friends alike, are both welcome and necessary.
It's important to tell people how you feel about them, and show them how grateful you are for them, while they are around to be told and shown.
Sweetness: a trifle bewildered by my repeated absence
For my part, what I am offering to my mother is my presence. Also I bring meals already prepared, and prepare still more while I'm here. Tomorrow I'm making baked spaghetti.
My pets, Rizzo and Sweetness, are being cared for by TG and -- as is the case this week when he himself is out of town -- by my girls. Everyone is pitching in and I have heard no complaints.
Rizzo: Mama is leaving me again
Mom and I have gabbed and gossiped, been quiet, been loud (often when watching Fox News), listened to music, snacked, watched old movies, lazed about, and generally just kept one another company.
I have played this song for her:
Which she said was a comfort.
My mother has hundreds of framed pictures on display in her house. Hundreds. Of her parents, siblings, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and legions of friends.
Henry and Mom, very young, and on their wedding day in 1983
And there are some of herself and Henry, when they were young. And many of me and TG when we were very young, and our children were babies. And many of my children's babies, and my sister's children when they were babies, and of her children's babies. Reminding me of what I already knew: that our lives are but a vapor.
I plan to be here as often as I can, for as long as I can, as long as there is a reason to be. If all my mother needs is a fresh cup of ice water, or if what she needs takes infinitely greater effort, it's the least I can do and it is no burden. She has done as much and more for me throughout my life.
Once upon a time
It's important to tell people how you feel about them, and show them how grateful you are for them, while they are around to be told and shown.
Today, in the morning, before the many afternoon guests began arriving, my mother asked me to help her begin planning her funeral service.
Shawn headed back to the airport for his flight to Galveston
She produced seventeen printed programs from the services of friends from her church, that have taken place over the last ten years.
You still have all of these? I asked.
They were my friends, she said.
Monday of this week: busy busy busy
So I made note of what she liked about the various layouts, and we decided on the Scripture verses and songs we'd have when the time comes.
Don't say I died or passed away, Mom instructed, with an I-Am-Not-Kidding fire in her eyes. Say I went to be with the Lord.
Indeed.
Gifts of love and respect
She will have gone to where no tears will ever fall, where she will have asked to meet her Savior first of all.
Meanwhile we would appreciate your prayers for our mother and our family.
And that is all for now.
L to R Me, Kay, Mom :: March 29, 1964 :: Chicago, Illinois
=0=0=0=
But he knoweth the way that I take:
when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.
Copyright, copy, and photographs, 2007-2024: Jennifer Weber. All rights imaginable one-hundred percent reserved.
WHAT THIS MEANS: IT IS ILLEGAL TO COPY ORIGINAL CONTENT AND/OR PHOTOGRAPHS FROM THIS WEB SITE WITHOUT MY EXPRESS PERMISSION.
![Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41AkExBJQsL._SL75_.jpg)
Monday, September 28, 2020 at 03:44PM 
Like early Ford automobiles: You can have any color you want as long as it's black.
Meet Skelly: A gift from my tar heel grandchildren while we were at the beach.
