This is what I am getting:
"To know even one life has breathed easier because I have lived, this is to have succeeded."
These are the options that I like...
Input very much welcome!!
Saturday, November 26, 2011
HELP!!
Okay, I am still trying to decide on where I want my new tattoo.
This is what I am getting:
"To know even one life has breathed easier because I have lived, this is to have succeeded."
These are the options that I like...
Input very much welcome!!
This is what I am getting:
"To know even one life has breathed easier because I have lived, this is to have succeeded."
These are the options that I like...
Input very much welcome!!
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Betty J Emmert (July 30, 1923-November 6, 2011)
I read of a man who stood to speak
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
from the beginning to the end
he noted he first came to her date of birth
and spoke the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on this earth.
Now only those who loved her
know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own:
The cars…the house…the cash,
what matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
that can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
to consider what’s true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.
Be less quick to anger
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we’ve never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile….
Remembering that this special dash
might only last a little while.
So when your eulogy’s being read
with your life’s actions to rehash
would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent your dash?
-Linda Ellis
Betty Emmert, born on July 30, 1923 passed away this morning November 6, 2011. The 88 year dash that she spent with us was truly amazing. In my 24 years with her I have so many memories of one of my wonderful grandmothers whom my family and I call “Nanny”.
Nanny was always so vibrant and happy. Every time that we would go to see her she would swoop down upon us with hugs and kisses. We loved to visit her house, she, like most people from an older generation, had the coolest things. We loved to play with the rotary phone that hung on the wall. We would dial as many numbers as we could before we were scolded and had to leave it. Spinning the dial to call another phone, how is that even possible? We would go running from the back end of the hallway, down the green carpet that covered half of the hall, and slide as far as we could to the other end. The slippery tile mixed with our socks and the speed of a small child sent us hurling past the bathroom and hall closet where we would come to an abrupt stop, the remaining momentum would either send us into the kitchen or flying into the main entry. Either way we could do that for-ev-er, or at least until we were told to stop. We liked to play in the back rooms of the house either the TV room or the back bedroom. There were various toys in the front closet that we would take to the back where we would spend hours imagining and many times we would just play with the jars of buttons that she had. There were buttons everywhere. We would sort them from big to small, by colors, by shape, design, anything we could think of. I don’t know why but those buttons were quite the time waster.
One of my favorite things to do in the whole world was go over to Nanny’s house and spend the night. Often she would take me to Pizza hut and we would each get a personal pan pizza and eat until we couldn’t eat any more. When we got back to her house I would sit and watch cartoons while she sat at her sewing machine and worked on one of her many projects. I would take breaks to watch her and she would teach me a new sewing trick then I would return to watching TV or to practice whatever it was I had just learned. While in there I snuck butterscotch caramels from the jar on the shelf she would pretend like she didn’t notice, then she would step out and return with grapes, the giant kind, or some other treat that she knew would fill me up. We would both munch on snacks while we chatted about whatever random things that may have been going on in my life. She would tell stories about my dad when he was little or reminisce about what she was doing when she was my age. Then we would sit and watch cartoons together. I would curl up in the rocking chair, her sewing chair, or on her lap and try so desperately to stay awake for as late as I could. When I couldn’t stay awake any longer she would drag me to bed. Her side of the bed was closest to the door and mine next to the window. I would lie there and watch the light from the passing cars on the street while listening to the distant train that used to run through town and talk to her until I fell asleep.
I could fill so much space with the memories that I have of Nanny both from years ago and from recent years. I like to remember the time that I got to spend with her before she moved to the nursing home, where she spent the last years of her life. Not that I don’t have many happy memories of her while she was in the nursing home, just that she was so much happier prior to that. I will miss getting to visit her every Sunday where I would sit with her and read, chat, or many times just watch her sleep. I know that she liked to have the company there while she rested I think that it made her sleep better. I will miss the many jokes that she told; I believe that she is the one from whom we inherited our sarcasm. I will miss a lot of things about her.
I know that in the end she was tired. She asked me almost every time that I visited to take her home or to take her from there because she just wanted to be home where she could rest. We both knew that I couldn’t do that but it didn’t keep her from asking even as her very last words that she spoke to me before she stopped speaking and only gazed at you out of weary eyes. I know that she is where she can rest now. She can spend her days now with her son that she loved so much and often spoke about when she was having trouble remaining with me in the present. She will get to visit us now as our angel. To watch over us and keep us safe just like she did when she was here. While her body has left us her dash has imprinted us all to last an eternity. I know that one day I will get to see her again where she and my papaw and grandpa and loved ones past will get to fill me in on the miracles that are heaven. I hope that they have butterscotch caramels.
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
from the beginning to the end
he noted he first came to her date of birth
and spoke the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on this earth.
Now only those who loved her
know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own:
The cars…the house…the cash,
what matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
that can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
to consider what’s true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.
Be less quick to anger
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we’ve never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile….
Remembering that this special dash
might only last a little while.
So when your eulogy’s being read
with your life’s actions to rehash
would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent your dash?
-Linda Ellis
Betty Emmert, born on July 30, 1923 passed away this morning November 6, 2011. The 88 year dash that she spent with us was truly amazing. In my 24 years with her I have so many memories of one of my wonderful grandmothers whom my family and I call “Nanny”.
Nanny was always so vibrant and happy. Every time that we would go to see her she would swoop down upon us with hugs and kisses. We loved to visit her house, she, like most people from an older generation, had the coolest things. We loved to play with the rotary phone that hung on the wall. We would dial as many numbers as we could before we were scolded and had to leave it. Spinning the dial to call another phone, how is that even possible? We would go running from the back end of the hallway, down the green carpet that covered half of the hall, and slide as far as we could to the other end. The slippery tile mixed with our socks and the speed of a small child sent us hurling past the bathroom and hall closet where we would come to an abrupt stop, the remaining momentum would either send us into the kitchen or flying into the main entry. Either way we could do that for-ev-er, or at least until we were told to stop. We liked to play in the back rooms of the house either the TV room or the back bedroom. There were various toys in the front closet that we would take to the back where we would spend hours imagining and many times we would just play with the jars of buttons that she had. There were buttons everywhere. We would sort them from big to small, by colors, by shape, design, anything we could think of. I don’t know why but those buttons were quite the time waster.
One of my favorite things to do in the whole world was go over to Nanny’s house and spend the night. Often she would take me to Pizza hut and we would each get a personal pan pizza and eat until we couldn’t eat any more. When we got back to her house I would sit and watch cartoons while she sat at her sewing machine and worked on one of her many projects. I would take breaks to watch her and she would teach me a new sewing trick then I would return to watching TV or to practice whatever it was I had just learned. While in there I snuck butterscotch caramels from the jar on the shelf she would pretend like she didn’t notice, then she would step out and return with grapes, the giant kind, or some other treat that she knew would fill me up. We would both munch on snacks while we chatted about whatever random things that may have been going on in my life. She would tell stories about my dad when he was little or reminisce about what she was doing when she was my age. Then we would sit and watch cartoons together. I would curl up in the rocking chair, her sewing chair, or on her lap and try so desperately to stay awake for as late as I could. When I couldn’t stay awake any longer she would drag me to bed. Her side of the bed was closest to the door and mine next to the window. I would lie there and watch the light from the passing cars on the street while listening to the distant train that used to run through town and talk to her until I fell asleep.
I could fill so much space with the memories that I have of Nanny both from years ago and from recent years. I like to remember the time that I got to spend with her before she moved to the nursing home, where she spent the last years of her life. Not that I don’t have many happy memories of her while she was in the nursing home, just that she was so much happier prior to that. I will miss getting to visit her every Sunday where I would sit with her and read, chat, or many times just watch her sleep. I know that she liked to have the company there while she rested I think that it made her sleep better. I will miss the many jokes that she told; I believe that she is the one from whom we inherited our sarcasm. I will miss a lot of things about her.
I know that in the end she was tired. She asked me almost every time that I visited to take her home or to take her from there because she just wanted to be home where she could rest. We both knew that I couldn’t do that but it didn’t keep her from asking even as her very last words that she spoke to me before she stopped speaking and only gazed at you out of weary eyes. I know that she is where she can rest now. She can spend her days now with her son that she loved so much and often spoke about when she was having trouble remaining with me in the present. She will get to visit us now as our angel. To watch over us and keep us safe just like she did when she was here. While her body has left us her dash has imprinted us all to last an eternity. I know that one day I will get to see her again where she and my papaw and grandpa and loved ones past will get to fill me in on the miracles that are heaven. I hope that they have butterscotch caramels.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)