There is more

Just in the last few weeks three people that I have known have passed on to the next life. The sorrow of those left behind is particularly difficult at this time of year when so much of the activity around us is in pursuit of merriment and cheer.
Yet it is precisely the message of Christmas that brings consolation and hope to the grieving. The arrival of the God-child in our broken world was foretold centuries ago by the prophet Isaiah (Isaiah 9:2,6) and again affirmed in the opening pages of the New Testament:

"The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light. And for those who lived in the land where death casts its shadow, a light has shined." Matthew 4: 16 NLT

And don’t we all have moments when the shadows of life seem to overtake us, shadows of loss, and failure, of pain and regret, dashed hopes, broken hearts. ...And deep within those moments, there’s a longing for light to dispel the shadows. Yes, even today there is light and hope…

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it. John 1: 5 NLT

Yes and there is more. The wonder and mystery of God choosing to dwell among us, fallen that we are, cannot be explained with logic but only in the language of His infinite and incomprehensible love.

When the Father’s Wisdom wanted to communicate His love
He spoke it in one final perfect Word.
He spoke the Incarnation and then so was born the Son. His final word was Jesus, He needed no other one.
Spoke flesh and blood so He could bleed and make a way Divine.
And so was born the baby who would die to make it mine.
(Excerpt from Final Word by Michael Card)

Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing… (Romans 15:13 NASB).

A mournful path

Today the Hester family traversed once more the mournful path to lay a loved one to rest in the Hester Cemetery near Norwalk Ohio. With the passing of Mary Jane Hester my Uncle Bob has lost another wife to the grave and his children a second mother. His first wife Dorothea passed when the children, my cousins Sandy, John and Jim were young children. When Bob and Mary Jane were married, our family was enlarged with her two daughters Amy and Lisa from a previous marriage and my cousins gained a mother.

From the funeral home on East Main Street the procession made its way down Old State Road, past Woodlawn Cemetery where my Great-Great Grandfather Loren Webb is buried, past the reservoir, past the farm where my Grandfather Webb Hester raised sheep, and then cut across past the hospital to Ridge Road.

Like a ribbon furling in the breeze, the procession flowed over the hills and vales of that winding road through fertile farmland. I could not help but think of the generations of my family who had come before us, that had settled here and lived from the land.

The cemetery is surrounded by fields once farmed by my great great grandfather Martin M. Hester and his father Martin, and across the road is the homestead they constructed in 1835 still occupied by descendants. The diaries, letters and artifacts they left behind tell a rich story of labor and love and faith. Many of them came to their final resting place here at this sacred place, a place of deep-rooted history.

I stood with my arm around Sandy watching the pall bearers fulfill their grievous task. And like the cold wintry wind blowing across the hill, a wave of sorrow overtook her at the loss of yet another mother.

Yet the faith of so many of my ancestors is that which I hold in my heart today. "Jesus said to her, 'I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die. Do you believe this?'" (John 11: 25-26 NASB).

Dad and me

We go back a long way, Dad and me. I remember on Sunday afternoons when Dad would stretch out on the couch, he would invite me to get in the "back seat" behind him. That felt comfy and secure.

In the summer we'd pack up our car at about 4 a.m. and head off for some new place to visit. Places like Serpent Indian Mound, My Old Kentucky Home, the Smokey Mountains, the Wisconsin Dells and Niagara Falls. He wanted to make sure we got the opportunity to see as much as we could of this wonderful USA.

Sunday afternoons were often times for going to Grandma and Grandpa's going for a ride, and visiting the farm market to get a big tin of cherries or maybe a peck or two of apples or peaches.

Our house went through a lot f remoideling over the years. It turned out to be one of the nicest ones around. I always appreciated the big yard we had to play in, the swing that hung from that big ol' apple tree, and comping out in the tent in the back yard every summer.

While Mom was teaching me how to bake, Dad was enjoying the things we baked. He'd always say there wasn't much sense in making a single batch of cookies so we'd double the recipe most of the time.

One summer my 4-H project involved designing a work area in my bedroom. While I was away at camp, Dad made the plan into reality by installing builtin-in drawers, counter top and bookshelves. He and I got an "A" on the project.

Dad has a good sense of humor. After I left home for college he typed funny letters. One of them read, "This will be a letter of reading between the lines cause we don't have any paper without lines." That was back in the days of manual typewriters.

I don't know how I first got interested in photography, but maybe it was because Dad often carried around a camera with him and would document all our vacation travels. As soon as I was old enough I was shooting pictures too. Later on in life I became a professional photographer. He also has kept a lot of the stories I wrote in school and now I'm a professional writer.

I still like to stir up goodies in the kitchen. Better go get a cake in the oven.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Love, Deb

Veterans

I am pleased to have the opportunity to honor my parents and my brother Bob on this Veterans Day thanking them once again for their service to our country.

My Father served from August 1942 to November 1945 in the South Pacific, involved in the Southern Philippines, Luzon and Bismarck Archipalago. My Mother served stateside from February 1944 to December 1945.

A story my Father wrote on this is recorded in a previous blog post from June 19, 2009 entitled "Good Soldiers." http://firstlightofdawn.blogspot.com/2009/06/good-soldiers.html

Another blog post with nice photos of them both in uniform are on a blog post from May 24, 2008 entitled Remembering Pt 2 http://firstlightofdawn.blogspot.com/2008/05/remembering-pt-3.html

My brother's four years of service in the Coast Guard during the Vietnam War was posted December 21, 2008 http://firstlightofdawn.blogspot.com/2008/12/crossroads.html

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An excerpt from Dad's writings: We served our country and did what we were told, nothing heroic and nothing to be ashamed of either. We were good soldiers.

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No one can measure the value of your service. Thank you.

Autumn sightings

With the chill in the air and darkness settling in earlier every night we already miss the long, warm days of summer and shudder to think of donning coats and navigating slippery highways. But the past week of glorious fall color and warm temperatures has made this time of transition delightful.

I captured every spare moment I could this past week with being out-of-doors. Here's a bit of a travelogue of seasonal sightings:

Saturday, October 17 - A walk at the Snow Road Metropark

• A squirrel with his mouth stuffed with a massive wad of leaves, bedding for the winter.


• Pawpaw fruit lying on a bed of leaves. I rarely see them because the deer snatch them up so quickly. The American Indian is credited with spreading this tree around the eastern U.S. Some research has shown the pawpaw fruit to be effective in treating of cancer.

Sunday, October 18 - a trip to my home county to visit my parents

• Along Butler Road, much harvesting going on, and even into the night there were lights in the fields; A boy on a tractor pulling a wagonload of corn from field to storage.


• Folks enjoying a wagon ride, pulled by two draft horses.


• The park where I spent so many hours playing as a child alight with gold and crimson leaves

Monday, October 19 - Blossom Hill, Brecksville

• From where my church sits high up on Blossom Hill, one can see for miles and far in the distance the twinkling lights of the city. Above, the canopy of sky was transformed at sunset into a canvas of watercolor, blue, pink and yellow. Underneath that sky on the wide open green spaces a soccer game was in progress.

Tuesday, October 20 - Picnic area on The Valley Parkway just off Brookpark Road

• The colors seem to be changing more every day. I keep watch for blue heron, had spotted one there once before. A large tree recently fell along the river bank, showing its massive root system, and narrowing the path along the bank.

Wednesday, October 21 - Tinkers Creek Gorge, Bedford Reservation of the Cleveland Metroparks. I think it also may be considered part of Cuyahoga Valley National Park.

• The time/temperature display across the street from my office said 72 degrees. Ate lunch on the picnic table under dark blue skies.


• Full parking lot at the "scenic overlook", Tinkers Creek Gorge 200 feet below. It is a U.S. Natural Landmark, described as one of the most spectacular views in all of northeast Ohio.


• At Bridal Veil Falls, several flights of stairs allow easy passage into the Gorge to get up-close and personal with the breathtaking beauty of the Falls. (Photos coming next week)


• A sign at a roadside market on Tinkers Creek Road: PUMKIN. (Do you pronounce the middle "P"?)

Thursday, October 22nd - Back at Snow Road Metropark

• To the accompaniment of marching band practice in the distance, bursts of wind dislodging a great many leaves, creating a rain of fluttering yellow.


• A four-point buck pursuing four doe along the creek bed.

Didn't make it to the gym this week but it was too nice out to be cooped up inside on a treadmill. With the wind and rain expected over the next few days, the season of bare branches will be hastened.

Mothers' arms

When I was taking the sheets off the clothes line this afternoon I thought of the many times my mother tucked me into a bed with clean fresh sheets. I wonder how many hundreds of times she ran the diapers through the wringer washer and hung them on the line.

Often when I'm in the kitchen stirring up something sweet, like tonight when I made a cake from scratch for my Mom's birthday, I think of how it all started with "helping" Mom in the kitchen. Even when I was quite small, we'd pull up a chair to the counter for me to stand on so I could reach the counter. The best part of helping was licking the mixer beaters and the bowl.

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When I go past my little display of Girl Scout ephemera in the hall way I think of her involvement as a troop leader for me and my classmates and as a Cub Scout den mother for my brother. She was a part of all the merit badges we earned. I thought of how she wrote a letter to me at scout camp even though I was gone just a week.

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And all the snuggles and hugs, the comforting words, of immeasurable worth. Thanks Mom, for all you poured into my life. I know you loved being a mother and it has made such a difference in my life.

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Happy Birthday to you!

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"Mothers' arms are made of tenderness and sweet sleep blesses the child who lies therein."

Tropical blooms

From the tropical gardens of Cleveland Botanical Garden taken this month:

Cana Tropicana on the left and Flowering Banana

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There was no label with this plant. Does anyone know what it is?