Tucked away
In my dark room
Huddled by an outlet
Leaning over my
Gangly, criss-crossed, eight-year old legs
Tiny pegs
Neon colors
Pop
and GLOW
Electronic hypnosis
Calm and quiet
In a riot of color
Slowly warped
Too many times
Left on
Camped beside
My rainbow campfire
Slowly dimimished
Too many pegs became
G.I. Joe missles
and Barbie drinks
Miss this escape
Into a techni-colored
Dream
Day is done
Gone the sun
From the lakes, from hills, from the sky
All is well
Safely rest
God is nigh...
At least thirty meek first grade voices softly sang this tune at the end of every Troop 130 meeting. We'd all hold hands and for a few brief moments our little souls were one with each other and with God.
I had always found it a bit odd, though, that we'd end our time with Taps, a song often played at military funerals. Not that I'd been to any, but I'd seen it on t.v. [Probably M.A.S.H. or something like that.] Tonight though, this melody returns from long-ago memories to haunt me. I received a Facebook message tonight asking for contributions toward flowers for one of our Girl Scout leaders. She's not doing well and only expected to live a few more days. I don't know all the details except that I think she had a brain aneurysm several years ago. I'm guessing she never fully recovered. I honestly don't know. It doesn't really matter.
What does matter was that she was my mom. Not my real mother of course, but she along with the other leaders were my friends' moms. And they all helped to raise us. Taught us how to sing in a round, which shampoo was best for our hair type. Showed us how to make a shelter if you were stranded in the woods and that we are constantly surrounded by the miracle of nature. I still avoid Pantene like the plague and try to never ever miss a moment of appreciation for God's creation.
This dear lady was no exception to teaching me invaluable lessons. She was incredibly kind and gentle - always. When she spoke it was with such calm sincerity that I remember it vividly. I wanted to be around her just to get a little taste of that peace. I'm sure that a part of her is certainly now a part of me. And it's hard to know that she'll soon be leaving this place.
In times like these you lean on what you've build your life on - the foundation of faith in God and the saving grace of Jesus Christ. And I can honestly say - with bittersweet sorrow - that "all IS well". In the joy of remembrance and in the weeping of loss - God is always good and he loves us all more than we will ever know.
You know, I'd had plans for my first "Slice". I wanted something simple, but cute, quirky, ...whimsical even. You know - make a good (i.e. safe) first impression. But that's not always what writing is about. It can be light-hearted, but it means so much more when its real and raw in rips up your guts. Tonight a simple Facebook message rocked my little world. So this post is more than a little rough around the edges, but it's a slice of my life.
