Mom's Overture by Anita Renfroe

If you are a Mom, or if you know a Mom you have to listen to this!

Words to Mom's Overture

For those of you who may have missed a phrase or two, I am publishing the words Anita Renfroe wrote for "Mom's Overture".

Get up now, get up now, get up out of bed.
Wash your face, brush your teeth, comb your sleepyhead.
Here's your clothes, and your shoes. Hear the words I said.
Get up now, get up and make your bed.

Are you hot, are you cold, are you wearing that?
Where's your books and your lunch and your homework at?
Grab your coat and your gloves and your scarf and hat.
Don't forget, you've got to feed the cat!

Eat your breakfast, the experts tell us it's the most important meal of all.
Take your vitamins so you will grow up one day to be big and tall.
Please remember the orthodontist will be seeing you at three today.
Don't forget your piano lesson is this afternoon so you must play!

Don't shovel, chew slowly, but hurry, the bus is here!
Be careful, come back here, did you wash behind your ears?

Play outside, don't play rough, Would you just play fair?
Be polite, make a friend, don't forget to share.
Work it out, wait your turn, never take a dare.
Get along...Don't make me come down there!

Clean your room, fold your clothes, put your stuff away.
Make your bed, Do it now! Do we have all day?
Were you born in a barn, would you like some hay?
Can you even hear a word I say?

Answer the phone, Get off the phone.
Don't sit so close, turn it down, no texting at the table!
No more computer time tonight!
Your iPod's my iPod if you don't listen up!

Where you going and with whom and what time do you think you're coming home?
Saying thank you, please, excuse me makes you welcome everywhere you roam!
You'll appreciate my wisdom someday when you're older and your grown.
Can't wait 'till you have a couple little children of your own!

You'll thank me, for the counsel, I gave you so willingly.
But right now, I thank you, NOT to roll your eyes at me!

Close your mouth when you chew, would appreciate
Take a bite, maybe two of the stuff you hate.
Use your fork, do not burp, or I'll set you straight.
Eat the food I put upon your plate!

Get and A, get the door, don't get smart with me!
Get a grip, get up here, I'll count to three!
Get a job, get a life, get a PhD!
Get a dose of ...

I don't care who started it,You're grounded until you're 36!
Get your story straight and tell the truth for once for heavens sake!

AND if all your friends, jumped off a cliff would you jump too?

If I 've said it once, I've said at least a thousand times before
That YOU'RE too old to act this way, It must be your father's DNA!

Look at me when I am talking, stand up straighter when you walk.
A place for everything, and everything must be in place.
Stop crying or I'll give you something REAL to cry about!
Oh!

Brush your teeth, wash your face, get your Pj's on.
Get in bed, get a hug, say a prayer with mom.
Don't forget,
I Love You!
***KISS***

And tomorrow we will do this all again because a mom's work never ends!

You don't need the reason why!
Because, because , because , because
I said so, I said so, I said so, I said so!
I'm the Mom!
The Mom, the Mom, the Mom! The Mom!
Ta-da!

Life Happens...

...And so does death.

As I prepare for the death of Gram, I have been looking for answers and explanations. Not so much the why's. We all know Gram is 89 years old. Her body appears old and fragile. For many months now she has fought the good fight. She has lived a very happy and fullfilling life. That's not to say she didn't go through any hard times. She just was always able to look beyond her troubles, knowing that God has a greater purpose for her and all of us. I think it is HER great faith that has brought me to where I am today. I am not afraid to let her go. I cry tears of sadness because I will miss her terribly. I cry tears of joy because I know she will finally be reunited with God, Aunt Dorothy, Brittney and all of those who went before her.

The answers I am looking for I have not yet found. What is keeping her here? She has said many times she is not afraid to die. Many of us have felt at one point or another over the past few days that Gram was trying to tell us she is leaving and that she is OK with that. Don't get me wrong, I am not anxious to get rid of her. I cherish every moment I have left with her. But I am anxious about not knowing when she will go. It is this anxiety that got me searching the internet for answers. I Googled "Death and Dying". Then I Googled "The Dying Process". I read a lot of interesting things, but I did not find the answers I was looking for.

I suppose there are no answers, and the best we can do is continue to be here for Gram and each other as long as she needs us to be. I find strength in Grams faith and knowing that one day I will see her again. And I suppose that is what draws me to the following story I found while surfing the internet last night. I would like to share it with you.

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says: “There, she is gone!”

”Gone where?”

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: “There, she is gone!” there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: ‘Here she comes!”

And that is dying.

Henry Van Dyke

Poetry Wednesday

Here is this weeks winner for Poetry Wednesday. I hope the weather warms up again so the kids can STAY outside!

Out-of Doors

The kids are out-of-doors once more;
The heavy leggings that they wore,
The winter caps that covered ears
Are put away, and no more tears
Are shed because they cannot go
Until they're bundled up just so.
No more she wonders when they're gone
If they have put their rubbers on;
No longer are they hourly told
To guard themselves against a cold;
Bareheaded now they romp and run
Warmed only by the kindly sun.
She's put their heavy clothes away
And turned the children out to play,
And all the morning long they race
Like madcaps round about the place.
The robins on the fences sing
A gayer song of welcoming,
And seems as though they had a share
In all the fun they're having there.
The wrens and sparrows twitter, too,
A louder and a noisier crew,
As though it pleased them all to see
The youngsters out of doors and free.
Outdoors they scamper to their play
With merry din the livelong day,
And hungrily they jostle in
The favor of the maid to win;
Then, armed with cookies or with cake,
Their way into the yard they make,
And every feathered playmate comes
To gather up his share of crumbs.
The finest garden that I know
Is one where little children grow,
Where cheeks turn brown and eyes are bright,
And all is laughter and delight.
Oh, you may brag of gardens fine,
But let the children race in mine;
And let the roses, white and red,
Make gay the ground whereon they tread.
And who for bloom perfection seeks,
Should mark the color on their cheeks;
No music that the robin spouts
Is equal to their merry shouts;
There is no foilage to compare
With youngsters' sun-kissed, tousled hair:
Spring's greatest joy beyond a doubt
Is when it brings the children out.
-Edgar Guest