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October 2015

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Leesburg Chapter

October 2015

 

A Warm Welcome

Joanne Dyer, mother of Adam

Anne Lancaster, mother of Brooke

Mary DiLascio, mother of Richard

 

Autumn

I always loved the autumn.
Of all the seasons it was my favorite.
I loved the beautiful colored leaves
And the cool crisp air and the
Sweet smell of wood
Burning someplace far away.
I loved the sound of the blue jays
With their raucous cries bidding goodbye to
The long hot summer and welcoming
The cooler days of fall.
I’ve always thought of it as a resting time
A respite between the hot summer days
And the cold winter nights yet to come.
As time to sit on the porch and read my book, enjoy life,
Counting my blessings and watching the hummingbirds
Flitting and hovering around their feeder.
Then one beautiful bright autumn day
Sorrow came unexpectedly and undesired
My grandson, our beautiful boy
Passed from this life to immortality.
He had been home only two weeks earlier
I hugged and kissed him as he left
Not knowing it was his last autumn here
Now I do not love this season so much
Now it brings not only the things I loved
But great sorrow.
How many autumns until I see him again?
Our beautiful boy, who gave us so much joy
For all the seasons of his life but left us
In the autumn, the soft secret season of fall.

~In loving memory of our beautiful boy, Jake Schoonover,
By his adoring Nana, Sue Roberts

A Season of Many Feelings

Fall is a season of many feelings.
Autumn is here once again as it comes every year.
And with the falling leaves my falling tears.
This time of year is the hardest of all.
My heart is still breaking,
Once again it is fall.
Memories once so vivid are seeming to fade,
My time spent with you seems some other age.
This season reminds me of grief and of pain.
But yet teaches of hope and joy once again.
For the trees are still living beneath their gray bark,
And you my sweet child are alive in my heart.

~Cindy Schake, TCF, Butler, PA
 

I Let Go, I Cling to God

I let go of my son on earth; I cling to God.
I let go of the hopes and dreams I had for him;
I cling to God.
I let go of him graduating from college
and working as a sports agent; I cling to God.
I let go of dreams of his future wedding,
his wife, my daughter-in-law; I cling to God.
I let go of dreams of his future children,
my grandchildren; I cling to God.
I let go of spending time with him…
ordinary days, holidays, his birthday; I cling to God.
I let go of cooking his favorite meals
and watching him enjoy them…especially baked ziti
and yellow cake with chocolate icing; I cling to God.
I let go of looking at his handsome face and
gazing into his twinkling, sparkling brown eyes;
I cling to God.
I let go of hearing his low voice
and his infectious laughter;
I cling to God.
I let go of feeling his hugs…with pats on the back;
I cling to God.
I let go of seeing him whole and healed from depression but know that now he is perfect in heaven; I cling to God.
I let go of my precious son on earth; I cling to God.
I will never let go of my love for my son.
I do not let go of my hopes and dreams for heaven and being reunited with my son forever; I cling ever so tightly to God.

~Remembering Brian 12/30 – 10/29
Beverly Elero, TCF, Leesburg, VA

The Fall of Fall

What is it about the season that takes me back in time?
Everything I do, I find you are on my mind.
Haunting dreams find me at night when I try to sleep
And every little detail is replayed,
and the sadness falls so deep.
Something about the close of summer
seems to bring it back
Making it so hard to move onward and stay on track.
Something about the dying and fading of the trees
Brings my heart to sorrow, with the falling of the leaves.
How I long to stop it, to keep the fall away
But time marches on, and summer just won't stay.
I know with the fall, winter is not far behind
Another lonely season, and the memories flood my mind.
I cry my tears of sorrow, and pray for spring to come
A rebirth of the earth, and the warmness of the sun.
It makes the memories softer and gentler to recall
But now my life is saddened with the nearing of fall.

~Sheila Simmons, in Memory of her son Steven
TCF, Atlanta, GA