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Something About Cats

There is something about cats. You either love them or your hate them.
I have never heard anyone say oh yes! I absolutely like cats.
I have always been a cat lover even tho I don't own one
now or rather I am not owned by one because unfortunately
my husband doesn't love them. He is a dog man.
As you know I am a nurse and have close encounters of the 3rd kind.
It was my pleasure these last few days to be privileged to care for a little lady
94 years young. Her hair is white and her beautiful pale complexion
accentuates her bright shining eyes. I leaned close to talk with her because
her hearing was not quite as sharp as her mind.
She had been telling me about the two cats who love her.
She cares for them daily and she loves them back.
Here in the hospital she said how she must hurry home to care for them.
It dosn't matter that she is sick  her cats need her.
Today she was told that she must go to rehab for 21 days.
Suddenly the twinkle left her eyes as they became misty.
What is wrong I ask, rehab will be good for you and you will
return home soon. She looked straight into my eyes and with a
sad quiet voice said "But what about my cats?" Her niece assured
her that her cats would  be taken care of but to her no one could
love them like she loves them. That is the thing about cats, they
hug up next to you and steal your heart and make you dependant
on them. You see, they don't really need you. It is the other way
around. There really is just something about cats.


Pumpkin Latte

Pumpkin Latte

I am not one who usually enjoys sweet coffee like drinks,
Those specialty creamers now available in most grocery stores
do not bring me joy. My co-workers cherish it. they can't wait for more,
but me I prefer plain old coffee with just a little creamer and a touch
of sweetness added.

Every Fall there is a wonderful thing out there called Pumpkin Latte
My heart does grow faint thinking about it and even now my mouth becomes
moist and a smile eases across my lips at the thought.

I must have it. The thoughts won't end. I pass by Starbucks because
I seldom afford myself this luxury. $4 for a drink is just too much yet
as I drive by I find myself turning in. I pull through the drive through
and order. As the coffee artist hands me my purchase I thank her and
turn my attention to the task at hand. As I sip the warm brew I savor the
sweet spicy flavor and feel myself relax. A horn blows in the distance
and wondering why I realize it is not in the distance at all. I forgot to leave.
It is the car behind me wanting anxiously to be next. I am sure that their
drink of choice must be a Pumpkin Latte.


Small Among Millions

I am only a small person among countless millions,
I live in a comfortable home on a quiet street,
I see the warm glow of the sun filtering through my kitchen window
as I sit and have my first cup of Joe. I contemplate the day ahead, 
I plan out the course of my time, of  the people I will
see of places I will go, of the things I will accomplish.
I listen for the sounds of my husband stirring in the
next room where he is still sleeping.
I savor each moment, each breath, each thought,
realizing just how blessed I am to be here, alive
on this beautiful day, beautiful even if it were raining,
I am chosen by God to be here, at this time in
this place, for this purpose.
Under my breath I say a prayer, a prayer only myself and
God hears. I thank him for the blessings of my life.
I talk to him about life and events that have impacted me,
about things that will change my life forever,
I look out the window and see the dawning of the morning
and with a smile and a gentle sigh, I leave it all in his hands
knowing that whatever comes my way will be according to
a divine plan. I pray that as a potter molds the soft pliable
clay that I will relax and let him mold my life as he makes
me into a beautiful vessel. A vessel used for his purpose.
I am only a small person among millions but I am his person
and I am blessed.



There she was, so fragile sitting in that hospital bed. Her hair gray except for the very tips which were washed out brittle red. Her skin was pale with all the pink tones now gone. She was like a ghost resting there among the sheets and blankets. She tells of a good life. For ninety two years she has enjoyed her health, her family, her home. And now here she is with us. Pneumonia and congestive heart failure have finally brought her low. Her fluids are restricted and we tell her what to do. Keep that oxygen in your nose. Stay in bed. No you can't have anymore water. On and on for days she listens. Each time I come into the room she begs in a birdlike voice. Water, that's it just one simple word, water. As I lean in close to explain once again, no you can't have any water. You have to much fluid and it stresses your heart even farther. In her 92 years of wisdom and knowledge she looks deep into my eyes and with a crystal clear sureness she says to me. When I get to heaven I will have all the water I want. I will look for you and we will drink tall glasses of cold wet clear water. Well! what can you say to that. I went straight to the bedside table and poured her some water in one of those little pink cups which are standard for any hospital visit. As I lifted it to her parched lips she sighs and says once again in that little bird voice Aah! Water.


Safety at Sea

As a ship upon the oceans sail its tossed both here and there,
A storm comes up the winds they blow the sea becomes a snare,
Will it stand, or falter fast upon this raging tide,
It's steadied now on quieted seas, The makers hands the guide.
My ship it sails on tides of pain of deep and dark despair,
Yet when I feel like falling low his arms I know are there,
He picks me up, he holds me close, he'll never let me go,
I know the master of the storm, He loves me this I know,
As a ship upon the oceans sail it's tossed both here and there,
I worry not about my life because I'm in his care.


Amazing Grace

Today I went to Sunday school. I saw a smiling face.
We sang how Jesus loves me, of his amazing grace,
The preacher stood before us with a smile upon his face,
He told us of a story where true love was displaced,
The boy left home and spent his all, he squandered all he had ,
He lead a life of trouble then he thought back to his dad,
He looked up from a pig pen with mud upon his face,
He said I'll just go home to dad a servant at his place,
He walked along the dusty road his steps a rapid pace,
He wondered if they'd welcome him, would they reject his face?
His dad glanced down the dusty road, Who is that lad I see?
I can't believe my eyes he said God's brought him back to me.
With hurried steps he ran to him, he welcomed him with glee,
Today we'll have a feast for kings my boy's come back to me.
 Today I went to Sunday school, I saw a smiling face
I've come back to the father, I sing Amazing Grace.


Crazy Grandma

I used to tell my children. Don't have children, I don't want to be a grandma.

They would just look at me like I was crazy. I meant it, every single word.
When Lacy my youngest daughter became pregnant she did not even tell me.
I wonder why? Anyway inevitably I found out. I ask her, Lacy why didn't
you tell me? She answered; Mama you don't want grandchildren. How stupid I was.
Stupid is a harsh word but not harsh enough. Then my beautiful little Michelle was born.
Julangela I called her. She was so beautiful with silver blonde hair and a scream that
could shatter glass. Then my oldest daughter gave me two little boys. Both are mischievous and bold, both daring and acrobatic. They climb, and roll and torment my dog. They have broken my valuable things, and have won my crazy heart. I can't even remember not being a grandma nor do
I want to. So if you get a chance encourage your children to procreate and then hang on
for a fun exciting ride.


I Dream a Dream

As a night bird sings a familiar song my
 hopes and dreams go on and on,
dreams of houses big
and cars shiny bright, or will I be content tonight?
My house is small but my roof don't leak,
and in my kitchen there's food to eat.
On my feet is a pair of hose
full intact without any holes,
My shoes are sound, I walk where I will,
and for this day I have paid all  my bills,
What more can I ask, I am sickness free
but if some were to come to me,
I'd still have to say that my lifes been good,
my dreams fulfilled as only God could.
As the little bird sings his song tonight,
I rest easy knowing that I am alright.


What Have I Done?

As days of life drift slowly by I often wonder what I was put here for?
I am a friend to the friendless, a mother to my children, a sister to my siblings, a child
to my mother, a wife to my husband, a co-worker to my co-workers yet in all of this am I
doing and being what I should to fulfill my purpose? Do I do enough? Do I give enough?
Have I influenced one soul in a positive way? Have I been the reason for positive change in the
life of others? Am I about my fathers business or have I goofed off and dropped the ball?
Only time will tell so I continue hoping that in the end I will somehow have pleased
my maker, the maker of heaven and earth, the only one who matters.