First Steps

Writing is a spiritual journey for me. I have used words to express myself on paper since I first began to write in elementary school. A few years back, my mom gave me a scrapbook filled with most all the things I had written since I was a small child.

In some ways I still feel like that young boy trying to put on paper my feelings about life and about God in my life. We often say "if I knew than what I know now, things would be different in my life". At sixty two years old I am not sure that would have made any difference in my life. As I look back now I am so thankful that my life has continued to be about relationships...with those around me and with my God....and not so much about "things". The "things" of this life have usually let me down while the relationships have risen above and beyond the realms of what I could only imagine.

I recently lost my mother or at least her physical presence. As I say that I question the fact that I lost her or her physical presence because in most ways, I still feel her right here with me maybe even more so than during her last days.When my father in law passed, I consoled my mother in law by telling her that "dad" was not gone but now lives in her heart and will be with her into eternity. I also said something like "now you don't have to share him, you have all to yourself living deep in your soul" It seemed to help her through that rough time and now that I am faced with my mom's death, I need to hear this in my own life

The night before she died, I sat with my mom, holding her and trying to soak up as much of her as I could. I talked to her about ocean breezes and and tried to focus her thoughts on a time and place by the ocean that I knew were treasured memories. I told her that I was a bit jealous that she was getting close to finding out what this thing called heaven really was. I described my perfect heaven to be a beautiful sunset morning on a sandy beach as the mighty sounds of the ocean rolled in and out. I knew she was ready and she knew she was ready. Finally the next morning God knew she was ready and she when quietly.

When I last saw her on a gurney in her room, she was curled much as I had left her the night before as she clutched a white furry stuffed bear, cradled in her arms. I was selfishly jealous of that bear but I knew if she could she would do the same for me, her baby boy as she often introduced me.

I wrote these poems for her as a part of my greiving:

I Love You a Bushel and a Peck and a Hug Around the Neck.
　
That …was the claim she made as I said good by to the
old lady in the wheel chair. Each time she struggled
to awkwardly hold me tight to her chest and kiss me
on the forhead, I could only guess how much love was
in a bushel and a peck. I knew she was special. I
knew she made me feel special. I didn’t know really
who she was. They called her mom and grandma and
great grandmother. I just knew she was the old
woman in the wheel chair.
Someday I hope I remember her. Someday I hope I
will know how much love is in a bushel and a peck. I
want to know why she loved me. I want to know why
she loved me so I can learn to love that much. I want
to know why she loved me so I can completely love
myself . I want to know why she loved me so I can
learn to love even more than a bushel and a peck and a
hug around the neck. I just hope I don’t have to wait
until I am “the old woman in the wheel chair“.

The great grand daughter



If I Die Tomorrow as written for Marie Jeffries by her loving son Stephen

If I to die tomorrow,
I would be happy.
Not happy to die,
but so very happy…
to have lived.
To have loved.
To have been loved.

If I to die tomorrow,
My life would be complete.
Not finished,
No I would never be finished with
living
and loving
And caring.
I will surly take that task with me to the grave,
And beyond.
If I die tomorrow,

I leave no gold or silver.
My only gift to you is
My strong will
My determination
My unwavering love for God.
And my constant love for my family.
　
　
If I die tomorrow
It’s OK to cry,
because I’ll miss you too.
But the day will come to stop crying
So stop crying and get on with life.
When you do stop crying
I won’t be far away.
Cause I plan on living in your hearts
As long as you live and breath and laugh.
Oh I’ll be with Jesus
But the Jesus I believe in also
lives in your heart.
If I die tomorrow
I’ll be somewhere between your heart and the golden streets of heaven…
The ultimate commute .

If I die tomorrow.
Don’t be afraid to look for me
If you don’t feel me in your heart….
Look for me in the faces of my grandchildren
Or in the ocean breeze
Or in the church
Or in the melody of that song you’re humming.
Find your own place to look
Cause chances are if you are there
I’ll be there also.
If I die tomorrow……..
I love you.
I love You
I love you.


JACKSON'S POEM　
　
　
She called me her "sunshine" as I came into the room,
a little bit of light to fill a day of gloom..
She never failed to grab my hand
or say"I love you so."
I couldn't wait to kiss her cheek
and hug her to and fro.
She called me her "sunshine"
and I know it to be true
cause each time I saw great grandma
her eyes would really glow
Like the sun on summer days
they twinkle and they flash
I hope I filled her heart with light
to hold her to the last.
　
　
　
　
Mother by Stephen J. Jeffries
　
　
She lay there....one eye open,
one eye shut
almost awake......but not quite.
She knew me.
She clutched my hand.....almost tight
but not quite.
She knows it is her time,
and she is ready and not afraid of what is ahead.
She is dying as she lived, with dignity and strength
.......... one step at a time.
I felt her hand, warm soft
so glad to be held
and so glad to be holding.
As she lay there half asleep,........... half awake
....... I fought back my tears
It was all it could do
not to curl up on her boosam
like a newborn carresses his mother.
It was all I could do
not to grab her frail little body up into my arms,
cuddled and cradled
like a father caresses his child.
Each moment,,,,,each second,,,,each word became a monument.
The clock is sweeping my breath away with each toc,
The faith she willed me....gives me strength and assurance
that all is well.
I will cry. I will morn.
but today I will celebrate!!!
a woman,
a sister,
a mother,
................a friend.
　
　
　
　Writing is a journey, one step at a time.