Stay In Touch With Friends

What to expect when we have a dear friend
Do we anxiously fear, the friendship will end?
Are we so afraid to “let down our hair”
Open our thoughts, lay them all bare?

The tears that we shed, the feelings which hurt
Are we sensitive, sad, far from alert
To other’s deep need for one to confide
Or do we retreat, inside us to hide?

Emotions we have, one for the other
Does it make any diff’rence, “sister or brother?”
In Christ we’re united, in Christ we are one
Our friendships we’ll cherish, as man needs the Son!

Love and acceptance, these both play a part
Give praise for achievement, straight from the heart.
Caring, affection, willing to listen
Knowing such love, our spirits are risen!

But there must be a balance, to give and receive
There’s joy in such sharing, you’d better believe!
When you find a true friend, where trust can be found
Life’s secret is yours, for love will abound.

So hold on to it tight, never cause woe
A friendship’s too precious to ever let go.
It’s a gift from our Father Who’ll gladly bestow
His blessings upon us, His children below!

She came into this world crying, not knowing where she was. But there was this man standing looking down on her with love.

His voice—it sounded familiar. It’s one she’d heard before. It’s the voice that would guide her as she made it through this world.

Through birthdays and holidays, proms and more, her daddy would be there as she grew from a little girl.

He would walk her down the aisle on her wedding day. He’d tell her that he loved her and he wished that she could stay.

Though they no longer lived together and mother was gone, father and daughter would remain just a phone call away.

Through the years, he loved her each and every day. She gave him grandchildren whom he nicknamed in a very funny way.

For many years, life was good. Father helped daughter as only a father could.

Thanksgivings, Christmases and birthdays too, father would be there celebrating with the rest of the crew.

No one knows when it happened, but suddenly things changed. Father didn’t want daughter to know that he wasn’t quite the same.

He was losing strength each and every day. He could no longer do the same things in the same strong, fatherly way.

Father was independent though and didn’t need any help – at least that’s what he said. But daughter knew better and she kept him safe instead.

She came into this world, helpless but adored. She grew up from daddy’s little girl.

She didn’t know then what she knows today. She got the chance to love her dad as he loved her on her very first day.

The day he went away, she told him that she loved him and she wished that he could stay.

He left this world helpless, but adored. For the woman standing there looking down on him was daddy’s little girl.

Poem by Stephanie Hoglund

Have you ever been down, and feelin’ so low
Your spirits did sag, your face without glow?
No song in your heart, no joy in your soul,
Feeling quite lost, never be whole?

Do you think that you’ve strayed and fallen from grace
That God’s anger is sure, He’s turned His sweet face?
Well, lift up your head, put faith in your heart,
GOD DOESN’T GIVE UP, He’ll give a fresh start!

He knows we are weak, our paths not run straight,
But He’ll still give His LOVE, His patience is great!
We think that our acts will cause us to burn,
That He’ll quick knock us down, from us He will turn.

But He’s LOVE cries my soul, my spirit within . . .
He’s chance for new birth, new life can begin!
I only can take, one step at a time
And if I should fall, into dirt, into grime.

Our Lord stretches out, His love and His hand,
Forgiveness is there, He’ll understand!
So, keep faith in your heart and never despair
GOD DOESN’T GIVE UP, He’s always there!

This poem I wrote in the fall of 1980 before my dad died, while I was taking care of him. It was a privilege taking care of my father as he passed on. I made a promise to my mom and dad that I would be there for them when they needed me most.

I have read this poem at my church for father’s day several times.

Dear Dad

Do you have any notion of the love I’ve felt for you
Of the many happy mem’ries of the things we used to do?
The years gone by, so swiftly passed, with all their joys and sorrow
So many times your love was shown, giving me hope for tomorrow.

How can I most aptly describe those moments of happiness
The many ways you’ve made me laugh, easing my soul’s distress.
You’ve calmed my fears, settling the doubts, revealing that you care…
And whenver I did have a need, your counsel was always there.

Oh, not always did I heed your advice, (to be stubborn, a family trait?)
But I’ve honestly tried to follow your words,
Cause your guidance to me carries weight!

We’ve shared in so many movies and treats, to count, an impossible chore.
The eggs and grits, and fish and chips, hamburgs, birch beer (I adore)!
And remember the times we’d meet for a show, punctual, at half past five?
The long street car ride and the hurried mean, those mem’ries, still so alive!

Your silly jokes, your laughin eyes..(Can’t recall a complaint out of you!)
Unselfish and kind, gentle and mild, considerate in all that you’d do.
The songs you’d sing, the teases and tickles, how fondly I remember your ways.
I’ve always been happy with you for a father, so thankful I am, to God goes my praise.

It’s never by chance the parents we’re given, our lives are all planned from the start
Both you and Mom are wonderfully FINE, and I LOVE YOU WITH ALL OF MY HEART.
But there is one other thing that I would like to say
You have one thing that’s lacking in your life this day.

When this life of ours is ended and we pass to the other side,
We’ll all be re-united, if in our Lord, we abide!
Please, Dad, don’t be missing, YOU MEAN TOO MUCH TO ME.
Accept Christ as your Lord and Savior, and we’ll share in eternity.

In Feb 1981, I led my Dad to the Lord while taking care of him the last days of his life, as he died in June, 4 months later, having suffered from cancer about 15 years. My dad was bord on October 28, 1903 and died on June 19, 1981. His name was Malcolm J. Rooney and friends called him Mal.  My mom’s name was Viola Mae Rooney. She was born on May 5, 1902 and died on Dec 30, 1980. Her maiden name was: O’Donnell and friends called her Vi.

When in my early 40’s, I was a single, working mother, with a young son.  After he was asleep at night, it frequently became very lonely (and quiet) in my apartment, and ideas started entering my mind and I began writing poetry.  In thinking about my sleeping son, the following is what I wrote.  I still enjoy reading it over, after 30 years!   Hope someone else will find some enjoyment in reading it also!  What is interesting is that his first toy at age one was a Matchbox car and he never lost his love for cars.  He has been employed in an automobile dealership for many years as a top notch salesman!       Grandma Suzie

“DANNY”

All alone am I, with a five-year old child
Oh, he’s so sweet though he’s driving me wild!
His energy ne’er dwindles throughout the long day
Running and jumping, always at play.

Adorable, loving, intelligent, smart…..
All these things make him so dear to my heart!
He pesters and bugs me, chatters like mad……
Yet cuddling and hugging, makes me so glad.

In eating, he’s fussy and limits me so….
He’s pokey, he dawdles, yet ready to “go”!
And french fries are his fav’rite wherever we are
For toys he’s not choosey, just make it a car!

His attention is short, his patience gives out
Sometimes his actions deserve a good “clout”!
In school he’s a “pistol”, his teachers despair
I suppose they must frequently pull at their hair.

And talk about dirty, his clothes are a sight
He turns shades lighter in his bath ev’ry night.
His room is so messy, his toys scattered wide,
And when he has friends in, there’s no place to hide!

His hair is so blonde, his eyes are quite blue
And his smile is so sweet, too good to be true.
Oh, I love my dear son, and thankful am I
That he’s part of my life, a great little “guy”!

One night, in a frivolous mood, and having nothing better to do, I came up with this “Ode to my old car”, (which was always giving me trouble.)    Grandma Suzie

“MY CAR”

My car is again, not running too well,
Sometimes I do think, for a nickle I’d sell!
I stepped on the gas, already to run,
The car wouldn’t budge, asleep in the sun!
I called on a friend, he hastily peaked
And quickly discovered, the car had much leaked.
The fluid was gone, and lucky was I – - -
That I hadn’t been blown clear-to-the-sky!
So to the garage, I barely could go,
But thankfully now, nothing will flow!
Thanks to my Lord, my car is Okay.
Hopefully then, it’ll stay that way!

While I was a single Mom for a few years, I worked in the Drafting Dept of an Engineering Firm, as secretary to 12 men.  One of the men wore a beard and we all teased him a little about it, until one day he had come to work all clean-shaven.  Later that night, feeling in a humorous mood, I started remembering him and being in a poetic frame of mind, came up with the following very silly poem which was a lot of fun writing.  Perhaps it will bring someone a chuckle as it did for me the many times I have read it over through the years.  Grandma Suzie

“LAMENT TO A BEARD”

Now hairs may come, and hairs may go,
But beards spring to life when allowed to grow!
Some may improve, and some will detract,
Please, will you tell me, will yours ever come back?

You know how I felt when I first saw your face,
The beauty of each hair as they sprang into place.
Each sweet little curl, so colorful, so gay,
Why, tell me why, did you shave them away?

Didn’t I always exclaim when you came into sight,
How the only thing wrong, a trim would make right?
Which I, of course, was most willing to do . . . .
You denied me such fun, now shame unto you!

And now, I’m so sad, much grief do I bear,
Because you, so thoughtlessly, cut off your hair!
Be they wiry, or bushy, or straight as can be,
Yours was the one most appealing to me!

Now I sit, and I ponder, interrupting my work,
Oh, why did you shave, was it only some quirk?
And where do beards go, when they’re all shaved away . . .
Is there some special place where they all go to stay?

Do they sorrow, then sign and woefully claim,
Their usefulness gone, with no face and no name.
Do they restlessly yearn, shed many a tear,
For only a glimpse of the one they held dear?

Can you ever forget this great message I send,
That beards signify strength, bring honor to men,
Much dignity, power, appraisal and glory,
What it all could have meant (why sadden this story?)
So, feel much regret, for this deed you have done.
For now we do mourn, for the “passing” of one!