For the explanation of these posts, and all other entries from my mom, please go here.

Dearest Children,

Don’t wait for the other person to do it and avoid responsibility. 36 People watched as a man killed a woman and didn’t even phone the police. When asked, they said they didn’t want to get involved. When you were born, children, you became involved. There is nothing you can do about that fact. If the dog needs feeding and you are close, even if it is someone else’s turn, you must not let the dog go hungry. “You ask for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee.”

Being involved and doing the Christian thing is not as some preachers say not an assurance of health, wealth, and happiness. A minister said, “religion is not an inoculation.” Being involved led to Jesus’ death and Martin Luther King’s and the Kennedy’s .

For the explanation of these posts, and all other entries from my mom, please go here.

Dearest Children,

Here is a saying your Grandma Seymour sent, which I like especially – “One thing we can do for our children’s future – give them fine memories of today.”

For the explanation of these posts, and all other entries from my mom, please go here.

Dearest Children:

Don’t ever lose creativity. This is imagination at work. I used to see private jokes, or interesting stories, or fascinating pictures in everything. Life was always interesting and I felt youthful. Then I lost this. I forgot to wish to hop down stairs, I looked at a tree and it was just a tree. Now I’m working to cultivate it anew. it is difficult, but necessary, or one is dead inside — life becomes dead. Even if your creativity never achieves recognition, cultivate it for your own livelihood and satisfaction. Keep on the growing edge of life. Your father is very creative in a different way. He likes to rearrange furniture, plan a house, or arrange a bed of flowers. That is good and keeps him having that spark he has.

Dear God,

The well is dry. My prayers are rote and routine. Bring back sincerity and enthusiasm to them. begin with thankfulness — not just me and mine thankfulness. Let me close my eyes and go through my day, every act, every emotion, every taste, every smell, every touch, every sight, every sound, every sensation imagining realistically and then thanking. Then let me open my arms wider, picturing the faces, the voices, the actions or day of someone I know and touching him with blessing.

For the explanation of these posts, and all other entries from my mom, please go here.

Dear Children:

Mature love is so comfortable; not as exciting as young love, but far more steady and assured. Love is knowing your mate will come home to you and likes his family and chooses to be with them instead of somewhere else in spare moments. It is knowing he sacrifices bowling and a better job because he wants to be with his family.

Love is conversing together. Love is the warm feeling one gets when one’s mate is praised or when one’s mate does or says something you admire. Love is the constant wonder, “How come such a fine person chose me with my inadequacies and still chooses me?” Young love is erratic very high and very low. Mature love never gets as high but neither does it go so low. It goes deep. It is not a moment in time. It is time and, God willing, beyond time.

Young love is ecstatic at one time and at another, is deeply disappointed in one’s mate. It is a time of discovering the bad and the good. Mature love is comfortable. It has adjusted to the bad and the good. I wrote a poem about this before I ever knew it. I wrote two poems, to be exact. Both express this as my mind reasoned it must be from what I’ve seen of my family and others. It’s funny now to discover the trueness, which before I only guessed. How well I hit upon it! And the reason, as I said before, is my good home with its example and discussion of homes we saw.

LOVING IS A CURIOUS JOY

Loving is a curious joy
It changes as it grows.
Our courting was in poetry,
Our marriage is in prose.
I loved the dashing words we used,
But now I love more.
The love we show in acts and words
Is deeper than before.

DEFINITION OF LOVE

An old familiar ease and coziness
Inviting two to make themselves at home
Within the depth of life experience
And there reveal their thoughts and dreams and hopes
– Is love – and not the pounding pulse alone.

A challenge, hand upon a hand agreed
To tough the top of every blocking hill
Within the span of their horizon view
And there to laugh in joyous unison
– Is love – and not the pounding pulse alone.

The outstretched hands of two uniting souls
Who wish to share the warmth and joy that rests
Within their heart’s expanding width and breadth
And thus be worthier of all this joy
– Is love – and not the pounding pulse alone.

Several years ago, I shared these. I discovered them in one of several notebooks my mother, now deceased, had typed up for me, my sister, and my brother when we were little so that after she was gone (she was very ill), we would have something from her heart. Little did she know that my brother would be the first to go. My mom did leave us, but she also left this treasure for us. I hope you can find some pleasure from these, as well.

It might be worth noting: My mom was an awesome example of a godly wife. She suffered from depression due to medications she was taking. My sister is 10 years older than I and my brother was 7 years older. She began writing these before I and my brother were born and completed them when I was a toddler.

Dearest Children:

As one grows older, one knows a deep warm security of love. A kiss is not needed. The simple routines shout love. The presence across the table, the compliment on dinner, a fleeting touch of the hand, conversation about the children, a gentle teasing all are ordinary things devoid of electric and passionate excitement but richly full of the certainty of love. When Glenn is gone, I plan dinner. I know what he likes. That becomes my silent gift to him. Some days I feel taller and poised and almost queen-like in the joy of you and your father. Most days are busy ordinary days. But some days, joy wells up and I feel your father’s presence ing after him when he leaves. His love is strong and undergirding to my day. Actually, this undergirding is also present, though less spectacularly, on ordinary days, too. I know how love can transcend.

Since being at the hospital, I know even more certainly what I want most for you. I want you to love God and have God as your personal friend most of all. Then, of course, I want you to be thoughtful and understanding next. I want for you to have an appreciation for fine music, art, knowledge, literature. I want these for you with all the wanting in me. All my thoughts are toward this end.

I told you the other night, and will tell it again and again, my criteria for a husband.

1. He must love God above all else.
2. He must love people and be understanding.
3. He must love children.
4. He must respect good art, music, literature, etc.

I hope this criteria will be yours in choosing a mate. It served me well and I am satisfied.

Lord bless your fruitful day as you serve your family!