Tag Archives: Farm

Honoring her December birthday

Well, it’s December 6th. Another December date that I remember a loved one on their birthday. I have so many friends and family with birthdays in December. This morning though, I remember my Aunt Janette. Below, I have shared a poem that I wrote in honor of my aunt. She was a beautiful person, inside and out. I was fortunate enough to have a relationship with her right from the time I was born. Last night when I looked at my calendar, and I let the date register with me, I stopped and I thought about my wonderful aunt. She is still very much missed and I cannot wait to see her again, one day, in heaven. This morning, I remember her, and I share this poem I wrote a few years ago.

I wrote this poem the morning after my Aunt Janette went to see our Lord. I woke up on Saturday morning and had these words in my mind, waiting to be written. So I sat and I wrote them.

Then on Thursday of this week, I decided to see if I could find the pictures we took at Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Janette’s farm last July. I opened the folder on my computer and I burst in to tears. Because, there she was, my beautiful Aunt Janette, right in front of me. Furthermore, there were pictures of her holding the child’s hand, pictures of her lifting the frail to new heights, and pictures of her happy, healthy, and completely at ease in her element. So I decided to pull a few pictures and put them into a post here including the poem. I took some of these pictures and my daughter Erin took some too.

Where’s that woman who used to embody farm?
She would work and still pull off that striking charm
 
There’s an empty spot in the garden over there
 A place vacated by the mother with golden hair
Aunt Janette leads Jacqueline up to see the calves.

Aunt Janette leads Jacqueline up to see the calves.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Can I walk for a while where she would tread?
O’er the grounds many visitors she had led
 
 
That child’s hand isn’t held walking next to us
It would’ve been by the girl who grew up in Texas
This is how I remember my Aunt Janette. Strong enough to walk alone, but always looking to see who else might benefit from a little help.

This is how I remember my Aunt Janette. Strong enough to walk alone, but always looking to see who else might benefit from a little help.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
May I enter her home and just sit for a while?
I can smell the bread and still see the smile
 
The room is full but something’s out-of-place
There’s a smile missing, absent, a friendly face
With a little boost from Aunt Janette, the frail could fly.

With a little boost from Aunt Janette, the frail could fly.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Can I say a little something to remember her by?
How she’d reach for the frail and let them fly
 
There are stories shared, each must be told
Recalling the wife that never did look old
Always happy to see us, my Aunt Janette, and my two daughters, Jacqueline and Erin. 7-25-2012.

Always happy to see us, my Aunt Janette, and my two daughters, Jacqueline and Erin. 7-25-2012.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Is it just me or is there happiness found here?
“…there am I in the midst…”; He is near
 
Gathered there is strength, and even more love
Missing here, we need only smile and look above
Aside

I write sometimes too much, other times not quite enough Getting the time, or room in peace to work can be tough   Before I wrote my most viewed piece, Destination Homestead There was a man who taught me to use an … Continue reading

Triumph

Photography 101.

The assignment was Triumph. I picked this picture because it kind of looks like a “T” for Triumph. Then I also like the picture, the memory attached to it (being in Northern Maine in the open spaces with three of my kids), and the timing to get this picture in line.

Triumph

Old farm road in Northern Maine. (Photo by 1inawesomewonder)

 

Image

Connect

Photography 101

This is one of my favorite photos ever posted to 1inawesomewonder.

My late Aunt Janette had a very special ability to connect with others. This picture, to me, sums that up. I miss her and the connection I had with her.

Connect

Connect

Image

Hand Held

Honestly, I planned to be asleep by now. Before I went upstairs to turn in for the night, I looked back. I looked back on some poems I had written over the last year. These poems I’ve tried to neatly collect electronically within my blog. Some include pictures that I’ve tied to the words. Then I came across this one and everything stopped. The TV showing hockey highlights in the background seemed suddenly useless. The hour now equally unimportant. I love the picture. But perhaps, even as wordy as I can get, I might not ever find the room, the length, or even the words worthy of the flood of thought and memory that resonates within me when I see this picture. If ever there was a place in my heart that another ever held, my Aunt Janette still occupies a special space there. If you care to gain further understanding, look under the Tributes section of this blog and look for Aunt Janette. I’ll be here enjoying the memories associated with this picture for a while. Wishing again to be hand held.

In good hands

Find Our Way

Tuesday morning, May 21, 2013, I was in New Brunswick, Canada to say good-bye to my Aunt Janette one last time. Since I was staying within 20 miles of the old homestead, I took a drive. I always try to get out there each time I am in New Brunswick. This time, I literally had only minutes to spend while in the area, but that drive, and those minutes are always worth it.

Between the old homestead, where I stopped to stand in The Spot for a moment, and my Uncle Lloyd’s farm, I ran across this youngster. I stopped alongside the road in a low-lying area that’s just a few feet north of the brook that crosses Charleston Road. This little fox was so small, so young, that it hopped more than it ran. I talked to it quietly and waited for a moment to see if it would come out from hiding. I looked around for the momma fox but did not see any sign of her, although I am sure she was somewhere close by. Then the little fox showed itself and I snapped a few pictures in hopes that I had something worthy to show for it.

As I drove back to Woodstock, NB to get ready for the funeral, I thought about this little fox, and I thought about my Aunt Janette. I was going to celebrate my aunt’s life and say good-bye to her while this little life hopping across the road was just beginning. As I drove the old country roads battling both the rains falling from the heavens and the tears flowing from my eyes, I realized that both that little fox and I were just trying to find our way.

This baby fox caught my attention out by the old farm.

This baby fox caught my attention out by the old farm.

This little fox is easily lost among the burdock leaves.

This little fox is easily lost among the burdock leaves.

We all just need to find our way.

We all just need to find our way.

My Aunt Janette – The Poem

I wrote this poem the morning after my Aunt Janette went to see our Lord. I woke up on Saturday morning and had these words in my mind, waiting to be written. So I sat and I wrote them.

Then on Thursday of this week, I decided to see if I could find the pictures we took at Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Janette’s farm last July. I opened the folder on my computer and I burst in to tears. Because, there she was, my beautiful Aunt Janette, right in front of me. Furthermore, there were pictures of her holding the child’s hand, pictures of her lifting the frail to new heights, and pictures of her happy, healthy, and completely at ease in her element. So I decided to pull a few pictures and put them into a post here including the poem. I took some of these pictures and my daughter Erin took some too.

Where’s that woman who used to embody farm?
She would work and still pull off that striking charm
 
There’s an empty spot in the garden over there
 A place vacated by the mother with golden hair
Aunt Janette leads Jacqueline up to see the calves.

Aunt Janette leads Jacqueline up to see the calves.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Can I walk for a while where she would tread?
O’er the grounds many visitors she had led
 
 
That child’s hand isn’t held walking next to us
It would’ve been by the girl who grew up in Texas
This is how I remember my Aunt Janette. Strong enough to walk alone, but always looking to see who else might benefit from a little help.

This is how I remember my Aunt Janette. Strong enough to walk alone, but always looking to see who else might benefit from a little help.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
May I enter her home and just sit for a while?
I can smell the bread and still see the smile
 
The room is full but something’s out-of-place
There’s a smile missing, absent, a friendly face
With a little boost from Aunt Janette, the frail could fly.

With a little boost from Aunt Janette, the frail could fly.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Can I say a little something to remember her by?
How she’d reach for the frail and let them fly
 
There are stories shared, each must be told
Recalling the wife that never did look old
Always happy to see us, my Aunt Janette, and my two daughters, Jacqueline and Erin. 7-25-2012.

Always happy to see us, my Aunt Janette, and my two daughters, Jacqueline and Erin. 7-25-2012.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Is it just me or is there happiness found here?
“…there am I in the midst…”; He is near
 
Gathered there is strength, and even more love
Missing here, we need only smile and look above