A Sober Time In Life

My Friends,

As 2009 draws to a close, I am poignantly reminded of the fragility of my mortal existence. Way back in 2005, my wife's mother was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma and told that she probably had less than 18 months to live. In 2005 and since, our family prayed lots for Mom and the Lord saw fit to prolong her life. Now, Diana’s mother’s life is drawing to a close. As I sit with Mom, listening to each ragged breath, and wondering which one will be her last, I am lead to believe that family is so much more important that things. I feel somewhat compelled to believe that the goodness in Mom’s life has power over the bands of death and that her goodness will influence us long after she is gone. I am reminded that not everything I once thought was important really is.

At our home, which is 1600 miles away, our Christmas presents sit alone, awaiting our return. Several weeks ago, I lovingly placed tenderly wrapped presents in the growing pile, anticipating the joy I might see in the eyes of each recipient on Christmas morning. Today, however, those far away presents seem lifeless and meaningless when compared to the fragile life of my mother-in-law as she hangs on to the precious gift of life that I too share in. Someone has sat with Mom nearly every moment of every day in the past few weeks and since I arrived here in Indiana on December 4th, I have taken my turn to watch over her. The last few nights, as I sat into the wee hours of the morning and read to her, held her hand, administered her medications, thought about her life or moved her into a more comfortable position, I have been amazed at the depth of my feelings. Mom has been a wonderful mother-in-law as well as a good friend. Along with her sweet husband, who has been an angel of mercy to her for many years, they raised an amazing daughter who I have been privileged to be married to for over 27 years. I feel honoured to be able to offer a small amount of service in partial payment for the debt I feel. I feel honoured to know such a noble woman.

In 2005, shortly after Mom was diagnosed with cancer, I felt moved to write a poem in her honour. For those of you who have read my blog for a long time, you may recall that I promised to share that poem. Today, I feel that the time has come. I hope you both enjoy and benefit from the words I penned – words that I feel came from a source larger than my own mind and heart.

When Death Comes

When threat of death our loved ones get,
Their hearts can scarcely brave the threat,
It seems so soon, it seems so near,
For death is something we all fear.

No fresh escape, the new day brings.
I wish my soul could find some wings,
To take me up and way beyond,
The pain of day and night so long.

And when its time for me to go,
I know ‘tis sad to leave below,
My loved ones left to fare alone,
My friends who’ll look and find me gone.

I’m heaven bound, at least I hope,
Because for me a plan was wrote.
A price was paid, His blood was spilt,
So I could find escape from guilt.

A life again, he promised me.
A life with joy and not so tough.
And so let’s see how I will do,
When my turn comes to conquer through…

The bounds of earth and sky to see,
If I have live so worthily.
Am I at peace or just not here?
Are loved ones left to cringe in fear?

Do I await the gates above?
Is Jesus Christ the one I love?
My path is sure. All men must tread,
But life’s not just ‘bout being dead.

Just time away, and time for thought,
It’s nice, but lots of pain is brought.
My loved ones pray, faith on their lips,
As life from me so slowly slips.

I hope to meet again someday.
I hope to love again and play,
As once I did before hard times,
And hug and kiss and give my charms.

But for today, the time is gone.
For choosing either right or wrong.
My loved ones watch, but cannot go
To Heaven’s gate or down below.

Then wisdom speaks and makes me glad,
That life brought both, some good and bad,
To help me grow and have a choice,
And work to speak with Heaven’s voice.

And so with heart all strained and sad
I grin and say that life is glad.
For up and down our lives may be,
But that is just the entry fee…

I have to pay if I’m to hope,
That I can rest in Jesus cloak.
So upward look, to days ahead,
When none of us will need a bed.

For gone will be the pains of earth,
And glad I’ll be that I had birth.
Sweet crowns of light are in my reach,
Our Lord and God on earth did teach.

And faith and hope and charity,
Will be my song and be my gleam.
For I will win the fight of life,
And reach for things beyond this strife.

My loved ones left for just a while,
As I go on to join the choir,
Of angels fair, all dressed in white,
And robed in glory, love and light.

Soon you will come and join our throng.
Soon ‘twill be time to come back home,
To God who gave you life and love.
Soon ‘twill be time to sing above.

But till that day go forth with faith,
And keep sweet smiles upon your face.
For you are who I leave behind,
To take my work in heart and mind.

And leave a legacy for me,
That death and pain will never grey.
Remember I will wait for you,
So make me proud and Jesus too.

Go right to work and train that voice.
Learn Heaven’s words; It’s still your choice.
For you have time, to choose the right,
And walk in truth and love and light.

And when your time arrives to go,
Be glad that you have lived below.
But ‘till that day please take some time,
To train your voice with pleasing rhyme…

So you can come and sing with me,
And blend refrains in harmony.
I wait for you my dear loved one,
Please join me when your work is done.

By Davis L. Bigelow
Copyrite 2005

Sweet Thoughts & Broken Bones

Greetings my friends,

I have not posted for a very ling time. I apologize for that. I've been rather occupied. Hope you are all healthy, happy and terrific!

On May 19th, my sweetheart went to visit her parents, accompanied by my second daughter, Amberle. Diana's Mom has some serious heath issues and her doctors say that she has already lived a year longer than they expected. We are grateful for the extra time, but deeply saddened by what appears to be the inevitable.

In Diana's absence, I became a lonely bachelor, with just our dog and two cats for company. The cats remained home, but the dog, a spirited Jack Russel terrier, accompanied me on my trucking adventures all over Alberta. He was good company, for a dog, but I missed Diana terribly. After nearly 26 years together, I have become rather attached to the sounds of her voice floating through our home (which was more like a tomb for nearly a month). On June 13th, Diana and Amberle returned safely. A few days later, I wrote this poem for Diana:

A Sweet Daydream

The morning dawn adorns your hair,
Sprinkling life on tired eyes.
I dare not move, but stare with awe...
Your love’s a cherished prize!

I lay awake near your sweet warmth,
Hearing slumber’s gentle breath.
I brush the freckles on your skin,
And kiss your tender neck.

The promise of a thousand rainbows,
And ten thousand butterflies,
Stirs all my soul from height to depth.
With you I’ve no disguise.

You stir from sleep – enough to smile,
Ere dreams take you again;
And I am left to hold you close,
As light transforms the dawn.

Our love is old, yet new somehow,
When I see your green eyes,
And look with care on your sweet face.
‘Tis true; I’ve won the prize!

Your hand in mine; your tender touch;
The music of your voice...
All join as one to fill my breast,
And cause me to rejoice!

By Davis Bigelow

Copyright 2008

On June 5th, my mother was trying to work in my garden when she fell. She is an industrious woman that is constantly causing me to shake my head. She just trys to do too much! Unfortunately, this time carried serious repercussions. When she fell, she hit her face on the dirt, creating a horizontal break across her second vertebrae in her upper neck. I was up north in my semi and she was alone. After laying there and calling out for a while, she supported her head and got up, walking over a hundred feet to the street where she flagged down a car. The driver happened to be a friend of ours, and since Mom didn't appear to be in too bad a shape, the driver drove her the short distance to our local hospital. Mom ended up being taken to Calgary where she was fitted with a halo and told that she had the worst possible break that you could get in your neck. She had few days of some slight tingling on her right side, but other than that, she has no paralysis problems. We consider it a miracle! She will have to wear the halo for three months and then a brace for an additional few weeks. So far things are going very well for her - especially considering what might have been the outcome. We are grateful!

Yesterday, my sweetheart had to work. In her absence, I took a break from my stresses and went hiking with my friend Greg and his wife. I took some nice photos and met some great people. I have to reduce the picture file sizes in order to post, so stay tuned. I'll tell you all about our awesome hike when I get another blog-devoted moment. Thanks for stopping by. Talk to you again soon!

Poetry Games

A couple of weeks ago, a friend, Cam, invited my wife and I to a party - a party featuring a lot of music. We agreed, but my schedule wouldn't allow any musical preparation. Cam suggested that I write a poem instead. A cool idea, so I did. In fact, I wrote two - dedicated to Cam and his wife, Judy: (As always, you may only copy these poems for non-commercial fun - unless you obtain written permission from me, Davis L. Bigelow.)

The Limerick of Cam

There once was a man name of Cam,
Who was filled with a whole ton of spam.
Cam asked marriage of Judy,
Who felt none to prudy,
And ran off with the man and his spam!

By Davis L. Bigelow

April 7, 2008

Once I got warmed up, I wrote this one:

Ode to Cam & Judy

Here’s a poem for you,
Mister Cam Lamoureux.
And it’s not just for you,
But your wife, Judy, too!

It’s a quick-witted rhyme,
Prompting laughter like chime.
It’s not rude, lewd or crude,
But not pretty - like Jude.

Cam’s the king of his house.
Though he’s short – like a mouse.
If it weren’t for his bride,
He’d be doomed to his pride.

With the name Lamoureux,
Cam can’t help but be true.
And when she yells, “Hey you!”
He’s a wild kangaroo!

Leaping right to her side,
Taking life in its stride.
Cuz its all about love;
Both for now and above.

So Cam still courts his Judy.
She’s forever his beauty.
And Jude’s love through and through,
Is for Cam Lamoureux.

By Davis L. Bigelow
April 8, 2008

A Christmas Poem

Yesterday morning, I awoke early and staggered into the bathroom. It was still dark out, but somehow, covered with the cobwebs of sleep, I had a thought. It was like a tiny candle at the other end of a long, dark hallway, but I saw it none-the-less. It was an idea for a poem.
Now you should know that I write poetry, but not on command. Sometimes, I have poetry-moods - when I write several masterpieces, followed, of course, by poetry droughts, when I wonder how I ever wrote anything poetic, and cannot imagine creating anything new. Well... the drought is over...
Oh, and if anyone would like to use my copyrighted poem for non-commercial use only, you may copy it, print it out and have fun. Here it is:

A Lamb's Tale

By Davis Bigelow

I slept in the field,

That night, when they shone.

Their heavenly light,

Was brighter than dawn.

I heard sacred words,

But had to remain,

Away from the child,

On Bethlehem's plain.

The shepherds all left.

I trembled in fright.

Would I be quite safe?

In the dark of the night?

Silence was rent,

By my a little lamb voice.

I'd have looked for the Christ,

If given the choice.

But such was my a lot,

To wait for the word,

That my Shepherd would tell,

Later on to my herd.

I 'ner saw for myself,

Though I lived, oh so close.

I could choose to believe,

Or be deaf like a post.

But my young Shepherd friend,

Was honest and fair.

I hung on his tale,

'Bout Bethlehem there.

The night Christ was laid,

In a manger with hay.

The night God came down,

For men's souls for to pay.

I felt in my heart,

That the tale was right.

My ears heard the truth,

And my heart filled with light.

Like me, some men are.

Their eyes never see.

Some hear just the words,

And believe, just like me.