Tag Archives: death

Has GOD Been Taken From Us?

The following is from Darrell Scott whose beautiful daughter was killed at Columbine. This truly are words to take to heart, from a man who is being rational. Please do take the time to read this and re-blog it everywhere.

I copied this from Facebook. I will attempt to attach the url at the bottom of the page, so you can read it and see the photo of his beautiful daughter from the original source.

Black and white photo of waterlillies.

In Memory

Word’s from a Father who lost his daughter in COLUMBINE 12 YEARS AGO!!

Guess our national leaders didn’t expect this. On Thursday, Darrell Scott, the father of Rachel Scott, a victim of the Columbine High School shootings in Littleton, Colorado, was invited to address the House Judiciary Committee’s subcommittee. What he said to our national leaders during this special session of Congress was painfully truthful.

They were not prepared for what he was to say, nor was it received well. It needs to be heard by every parent, every teacher, every politician, every sociologist, every psychologist, and every so-called expert! These courageous words spoken by Darrell Scott are powerful, penetrating, and deeply personal. There is no doubt that God sent this man as a voice crying in the wilderness.. The following is a portion of the transcript:

“Since the dawn of creation there has been both good & evil in the hearts of men and women. We all contain the seeds of kindness or the seeds of violence. The death of my wonderful daughter, Rachel Joy Scott, and the deaths of that heroic teacher, and the other eleven children who died must not be in vain. Their blood cries out for answers.”

“The first recorded act of violence was when Cain slew his brother Abel out in the field. The villain was not the club he used.. Neither was it the NCA, the National Club Association. The true killer was Cain, and the reason for the murder could only be found in Cain’s heart.”

“In the days that followed the Columbine tragedy, I was amazed at how quickly fingers began to be pointed at groups such as the NRA. I am not a member of the NRA. I am not a hunter. I do not even own a gun. I am not here to represent or defend the NRA – because I don’t believe that they are responsible for my daughter’s death. Therefore I do not believe that they need to be defended. If I believed they had anything to do with Rachel’s murder I would be their strongest opponent.” 

“I am here today to declare that Columbine was not just a tragedy, it was a spiritual event that should be forcing us to look at where the real blame lies! Much of the blame lies here in this room. Much of the blame lies behind the pointing fingers of the accusers themselves. I wrote a poem just four nights ago that expresses my feelings best.”

Your laws ignore our deepest needs,
Your words are empty air.
You’ve stripped away our heritage,
You’ve outlawed simple prayer.
Now gunshots fill our classrooms,
And precious children die.
You seek for answers everywhere,
And ask the question “Why?”
You regulate restrictive laws,
Through legislative creed.
And yet you fail to understand,
That God is what we need!

“Men and women are three-part beings. We all consist of body, mind, and spirit. When we refuse to acknowledge a third part of our make-up, we create a void that allows evil, prejudice, and hatred to rush in and wreak havoc. Spiritual presences were present within our educational systems for most of our nation’s history. Many of our major colleges began as theological seminaries. This is a historical fact. What has happened to us as a nation? We have refused to honor God, and in so doing, we open the doors to hatred and violence. And when something as terrible as Columbine’s tragedy occurs — politicians immediately look for a scapegoat such as the NRA. They immediately seek to pass more restrictive laws that contribute to erode away our personal and private liberties. We do not need more restrictive laws. Eric and Dylan would not have been stopped by metal detectors. No amount of gun laws can stop someone who spends months planning this type of massacre. The real villain lies within our own hearts.”

“As my son Craig lay under that table in the school library and saw his two friends murdered before his very eyes, he did not hesitate to pray in school. I defy any law or politician to deny him that right! I challenge every young person in America , and around the world, to realize that on April 20, 1999, at Columbine High School prayer was brought back to our schools. Do not let the many prayers offered by those students be in vain. Dare to move into the new millennium with a sacred disregard for legislation that violates your God-given right to communicate with Him. To those of you who would point your finger at the NRA — I give to you a sincere challenge.. Dare to examine your own heart before casting the first stone! My daughter’s death will not be in vain! The young people of this country will not allow that to happen!”

– Darrell Scott

Do what the media did not – – let the nation hear this man’s speech. Please send this out to everyone you can!!!

Rachel Scott on Facebook

Thank you so much,

Shez

 

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Filed under Children, Family, Reblog, Words to Ponder

Goodbye, Mom

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The first picture that appears are photos of my mom with the men she loved. Left to right: Mom the first time she was a widow, Dad in his navy uniform, Mom when she met day, Mom and her second husband Bill, Mom with her companion several years after Bill died. And the final photo mom alone again after her companion Jack died. The picture taken only two months before she left us.

As the family gathered to spread the ashes, we were surprised by a beautiful day, an unexpected gift as we say our final goodbyes. There are now five members of our family on the hillside overlooking the city.

For me it includes my wonderful maternal grandmother who loved me for who I was and understood me to the core. She taught me to knit, bake, pluck and dress chickens and then how to cook them. Together we crossed the electric fence and laid planks to provide us a bit of safety from the thorns to pick blackberries and bring them home and bake a pie. I learned I could do anything I set my mind to from this dear woman. She taught classes in how to upholster furniture and bake and decorate exquisite wedding cakes.

My very funny Uncle, my daddy’s brother. A tall lanky man with a wicked sense of humor, a constant smile and a fun person. He was married to my mom’s sister, which made my cousins and I double cousins. I loved both of them dearly.

My father was laid to rest up on that hill when he was only 55 years old, leaving behind a widow and a severely handicapped 12 year old son and two grown daughters with husbands of their own. My daddy was from the south, Alabama to be exact, and was a patient kind and loving guy the glue who kept us all together. Going on without his love and presence was the hardest task ever.

When the service was over we laid roses on all of the family graves, so there was a long row of colorful roses spread on the ground. All of them lightly dusted with the ashes of the last of their generation.

Then back to our house for the best gathering of the masses. It was a calm, funny, sweet gathering without the excitement of a holiday. It was more like any evening when my children were growing up, just a greatly larger number of them, including spouses, children, my mother’s grandchildren and several of her great-grandchildren. Everyone stayed late and it was a wonderful tribute to our mother.

In spite of the fact she had rules for everything, and was often very cranky, seldom pleased with anything we did, she did love us and we all turned out to be people she could be proud of. Of course that was her mission all along, it’s just that we might have been able to get to that point with fewer  hairbrush spankings to the bottom and a lot more pats on the back. She was our mom, she did the best she was able, she always loved us.

Our hope is she is finally in a very happy place, a place where her sense of humor and her love of life can flourish and her need for rules will not be necessary. We wish her the best. We will miss her. Always.

G’ Night

Shez

I hope the slide show will work. This is a first for me to try one. Do you like it? Please leave a comment and let me know what you think. Thanks.

Tomorrow, something fun. How about cars?

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Cold, Sad, Brilliant Skies

November 2, 20011 I woke up to a morning that matched my mood. It was shrouded in fog and did not seem happy to come. It was cold, the neighbors’ house roofs were covered in frost. There were no birds singing. This was the day I was supposed to pick up mom. This time it was to take her ashes home to await the service on Sunday.

I looked out the kitchen window, and there on the patio table was a smidgen of sunlight illuminating the beauty of the frozen rain. The table top looked like a pond of faded leaves held captive by the ice. The ice patterns tracing the leaves, the stems and designing the etchings connecting it all.

The Morning Was Cold and Dead

The morning was growing late and I needed to leave for work, but I grabbed my cell phone and ran out into the cold to capture the intriguing frozen sight. My camera is my therapist and it quickly got to work helping me forget the sadness and see the beauty.

As we drove to work the fog was losing it’s grip on the world. As the blanket of gloom rose like a stage curtain revealing once again our glorious world. Getting out of the car I noticed the tops of the trees were illuminated by the early morning sun, looking like a stairway to heaven rising above the fog and greeting the clear blue sky.

The Trees Formed a Stairway to Heaven

Later that afternoon I walked out of the funeral home with mom in a box tucked inside a small coppery gift bag. The bag was heavy, but my heart was okay.  This was the sight that greeted me. It looked like the trees themselves had decided to work magic in the sky as the sun was beginning to set. The light green tree on the right appears to be directing the clouds to copy the trees own image.

I knew then all was right with the world. It did not upset me as it feared it might to have my mom’s remains and take them to the car. Had she somehow orchestrated this joyful sight? She knew how I had always depended on my camera, but whether she did or didn’t I was at the right place at the right time. It was a happy ending to a very large part of my life that it was time to put away. Like  reading a book and not wanting it to end, a great story never to be forgotten.

Trees Paint the Sky

Her service is today. Good bye, Mommy, we had more time than most ever get. We were blessed.

May you, dear reader, find beauty and peace, laughter and joy, love and wonder in your trek through today.

G’ Day

Shez

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Day 18 The Blog I Dreaded to Post

The Final Sunset

My mother Ruth Burdick Williams Stanton gave up her long struggle with pancreatic cancer this morning at 4:40am. She was in her daughter Margaret’s arms and died with a smile on her face. She had endured so much for so many long months and refused pain medication to the end. She would rather hurt than sleep, the pain a reminder she was still alive.

“Granny” Ruth was simply a remarkable woman.
For those of you who have been following my blog, you know that my mother has been very ill and this was not unexpected.
For those of you who have not read my blog I will attempt a brief outline of events. It started a year and a half ago when she kept complaining that something was wrong. She finally asked me to accompany her to her doctor visits because somehow she was not getting though to anyone that something was amiss.

From that point on her wonderful son-in-law, the guy I was smart enough to marry and hang on to patiently drove and waited in the waiting room through countless trips to the doctor, Urgent Care, and Emergency Rooms.

A stroke on Dec 26th everything in her world changed. She was given a week to ten days to live. After ten days in hospice she had improved. I was her security blanket translating her hand gestures and guttural sounds for everyone.

Six weeks of therapy later she was beginning to talk, was walking and dressing herself, had a great sense of humor and with a shiny new red walker her son-in-law drove her home to resume life.

A broken hip, surgery, more therapy, three more falls, two concussions, three compression fractures to her back, stitches in her head and a broken wrist ensued. Through it all she remained lucid, pleasant, refused pain meds because they made her groggy and she found lots to laugh about.

Everyone everywhere she went loved her, and commented on her sense of humor, her sweet disposition, her lack of complaints, and her willingness to work so hard to get well.

Her speech was always the first to go with every episode and each time it was harder and harder for her to make any sounds at all. The last 6 months she could only communicate mainly with a nod or shake of her head. She wore a cell phone around her neck that all she had to do was push one button and it would automatically dialed me. We would play 20 questions until I could figure out what she needed and could get help to her while I waited.

It must have been miserable when she understood everything going on and could not express herself. She would try and try and finally give up, a few times tears flooded her eyes. The paralysis having a hold on her vocal chords and her tongue, both are needed to form words. Our very verbose and chatty mom was silenced.

One day she turned bright yellow. Tests revealed she had pancreatic cancer and there was nothing that could be done for her. They gave her two to three  weeks to live. She survived for ten weeks and one day. All but the last week were good ones and we were very thankful for each good day.

When I kissed my mom goodbye last night I felt it might be the last goodnight kiss I would ever give her. I was glad my sister was still there when she had an event that prompted my sister to stay. Mom did get her wish to not be alone when the time came. I wish I had stayed also; as it was I went to bed at midnight and sleep did not come as I waited for the phone to ring. My husband also tossed and turned waiting for the dreaded call. It came at 4:50.

So many people have asked me how I am doing. A funny question, I am doing fine, alternating between sadness, missing her already, and relief that she is free from suffering and pain for the first time in nearly a year.

Mom August 6, 2011

My wish for her is that she is dancing in heaven today, enjoying lots of laughs and the ability to communicate freely once again. I miss you already. You almost made it to your 90th birthday. Bye, Mom, I love you.

 

G’ Day, I wish you a wonderful day. Don’t forget to hug and tell the important people in you life you love them. You never know if you will have tomorrow.

Shez

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Day 16 I Missed A Day :-(

After a very long day of trying to get a whole weekend’s worth of cooking and cleaning done in one last afternoon, exhausted I headed to bed at midnight. I knew I was supposed to write something, but was too emotionally drained to do anything. Not even one word.

I had spent several hours with my mom on Friday, Saturday afternoon and back again on Sunday. Each hour spent is an emotional roller coaster. Watching her life ebb away from her. Seeing her needing help with everything, knowing she can no longer speak she cannot let her needs be known.

Seeing her in such distress, asking if she is in paint and get a weak shake no, I kept up with the questions. She need to go to the bathroom. Her dignity and mental capacity is there and intact. It took two of us to get her onto the commode. It took one to keep her from falling over and getting hurt.

Lifting all 90 pounds of what was a vibrant 150 pound lady only a few short weeks ago tears at every emotion in my being. How degrading to be reduced to a caregiver and a daughter to help with things that are most private. There is no embarrassment left between us. For the last 10 months we have faced each new peeling of dignity as best we could.

Tonight when I visited after work I know may be the last time I see her alive. She is like a skeleton draped in overside crepe skin. Her color is going from bright yellow to muddy gold as her body shuts down and gives surrenders to the slow and painful advance of the cancer.

Will she be there tomorrow?

G ‘Nite

Shez

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Day 13 Is The Busy Bee Bushed?

My mother has likened to a “Busy Bee,” “The Engergizer Bunny” and a Timex watch. In all cases these are icons for people who work hard and just never stop. But today I got a call from her care giver.

“It’s time to come. Mom is not doing too good today. The nurse told me to put her to bed. She can no longer sit in the recliner.”

I went and found her sleeping. It was not a peaceful sleep, she stirred several times and grimaced in pain. Finally opened her eyes and smiled at me, held my hand and was back to sleep. But when I started to go sit down she held my hand tightly. Too tired to see, but awake enough to want someone there.

She was in pain, but refused any pain medication. She does not want to be put to sleep with the medication. When she hurts at least she knows she is still alive. My sister was to arrive about 6:30, mom would hold out until then so she could visit before even considering the pain medication.

Visiting with mom at this point is asking a simple question she can answer with a tiny nod yes or a subtle shake no. She pulled herself somewhat up in pain. I asked if she hurt. A tiny nod. What hurts I asked. She said out loud, Everything hurts.” Finally I decided deserved to know what she is up against. Mom needed to know the truth.

For starters I asked if she remembered she had been complaining to her doctor for nearly two years something was wrong?

A nano nod.

You were right. There has been something very wrong that has caused everything. You have fought so hard and worked so hard to overcome each thing that was thrown at you. You have been brave, sweet with everyone, worked so hard, and kept your sense of humor. You and the doctors have done everything they could, but the bottom line is it is something you cannot beat. You have pancreatic cancer. Soon you will hurt more and more. You will want to think about taking some pain pills. I do not want you to hurt, it might be better if you decide that sleeping through the worst part at the end is an okay thing to do.

She looked at me aghast at my news. She grabbed me and we both cried. We held each other so tightly. I had to get tissues to wipe her tears and mine from her face. I asked her if she knew who was coming to get her? Would it be my dad, her mom, her sister? At first she looked a little confused. And I said something about when the time came that she left me, did she know who was going to take her with them. She understood I was talking about the afterlife. She smiled at me, held my hand and drifted off to sleep.

Soon her caregiver came in and asked if she would like to try some soup. To her amazement mom nodded yes. “You are hungry?” The affirmative nod.

She ate some cream of mushroom soup, some water, everything stayed down and she drifted back into a comfortable and easy sleep.

My sister and her husband had arrived by the time my husband came to pick me up. I told mom I was going to pick up a few things and come back and spend the night. No, she shook her head and using both hands waved me off. Are you sure? Yes, she nodded.

There is pain in the truth, but there is comfort in knowing what to expect. Mom who has always been so terrified of death at last is understanding it happens to us all. She is accepting her own is at hand. Maybe a day, or two or three, or a month. She is very strong.

At one point laying beside her I realized a simple truth which I shared with her when she woke up.

“It is painful for our mothers when we arrive and it is painful for we children when our mothers leave us.”

She smiled and nodded emphatically in agreement.

G’ Nite,

Shez

 

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What Happened?

I must say, I don’t get the “simple instructions” for setting my a second blog profile dedicated to the WordPress Challenge “Write a Blog a day for a Month.” I get the part about writing a blog. The part I don’t get is, after going step by step through the instructions one step at a time and then previewing my new blog, it looks perfect. Then I come back to it and there is a big white block where my post is supposed to be, and there to the right of the white block were instructions telling me that “this space is where you add your widgets.” I re-did it from step one three times only to have nothing change.

Scroll down and there is my blog post for yesterday in small box that appears to be last weeks left over hash. To the right of the hash are my widgets. So my question to all of you in blogland, “What the heck happened?”

Today was flat-out too busy to go back yet again and redo everything from step one only to have the exact same thing happen. So here goes post two on day two.

I don’t think any of you really want to hear about my day, so I will spare you the boring hum drums of life and call it quits. This counts as a post. It does so. It is a post!

I know it’s simple and really a waste of your time to read but I don’t want any sympathy just because yesterday may have been the last day to ever see my mom awake. Today she was sleeping sitting up in a lounge chair. Tomorrow she will likely not be up at all. The pain and the vomiting are hitting her hard and the most welcome pain meds will keep her comfortable and asleep as she loses her battle for life. The pancreatic cancer has her beat. Her heart is still strong, her brain is alert, and her will to live has kept her going 8 weeks when she was given two. But the cancer holds the winning hand. There are no miracles left for her.

Everyone says that it is okay because she was lucky to have 89 years and 10 months. But for she and I, that just isn’t long enough. Forever would not be long enough.

I am sorry this is not an off the wall funny post, but not every day and every thing is off the wall or funny. It is all just life.  In the end we all go.

 

 

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