Our Itty Bitty. May 30, 1958 to November 25, 2017. May she rest in Peace.
Light a candle.Say a prayer.Dance in joy.No longer in earthly pain, Our Itty Bitty, born May 30, 1958 (Potato Planting Day) passed November 25, 2017.
Itty Bitty’s a Momma!
No one is surprised (except Itty Bitty) that she went to her greater reward before all of her older sisters and brother because she always thought doctors orders were just suggestions.
We fully expect Itty Bitty to meet us at the Pearly Gates with an escape plan and a ‘To Do’ list. Still your loving family, friends and caregivers thank you Itty Bitty because you taught us the joy ofcolouringoutside the lines.
The Hot Dog Cool Cat Momma and her Itty Bitty Baby Sister towards the end and there always is ‘The End.’
Like a small boat On the ocean Sending big waves Into motion Like how a single word Can make a heart open You had only one match But you made an explosion…
(Paraphrase Kurt Hugo Schneider, Benjamin Kheng)
Oh, and I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again…. by Andrew Cedar, Justin Scott Franks, Charlie Otto Puth, Cameron Jibril Thomaz
To know me…Is to love me…. Fr:Morguefile By: jdurham
I dreamed of her again last night……Her blonde shiny hair….Fell upon her bright jumper….And she flung her arms around my neck….And said…’I love you Auntie’…
Lovie, post radiation.
My father often says he wishes….He could bring her into his dreams….It would make it seem for a brief time…He had her back again…
Ah, but I am theLuckyOne….I dreamed of her again last night……
We were driving side by side…On a highway to no known destination..(IZ)
From Morguefile.com IMG_0522.jpgBy wallenberg
Sleep is such mystery…one minute you may be in a recliner, thinking how many pounds of turnips to buy, what color of sweater you should wear, when to plant the flower seedsand the next minute you have lifted the veil on the here and nowand disappeared over to the other side, where today’s reality with it trials and troubles cease as you step in to the you.. that was, that is and ever will be.
RIP Daddy’s machine. Fr: Morguefile. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
The scene that unfolded was not an over exaggerated never could happen circumstance….no, it was glorious in its simplicity. Momma and RIP Daddy, many moons ago, driving, in his blue convertible with the top down, the radio loud, the starsand moonhanging so low you felt if you stretched out your arm, you could touch them with your fingertips.
Informal fun Momma & RIP Daddy.Momma & RIP Daddy
Although Momma’s long hair was tied back, it came loose, whipping her face with a blinding force that both crippled and energized her. RIP Daddy was so young and happy, so proud of his machine, willing to pay the price for the speeding tickets and demerit points he collected, the pain of sitting before the Authority figure, justifying why he should be able to keep his driving license, just for the thrill of the here and now.There was no conversation, save the music and the wind, rendering a lullaby so sweet, you would wish it would never end.
Ah, but just as sleep steals in, bringing yesterday back, so does an inner alarm clock, rudely jolting you back to the here and now, where RIP Daddy only can appear in dreams these days…
No longer able to share today in person, RIP Daddy smiles benevolently in the framed picture, at Momma, Wonder Boy and all the world because…he’s over there now…waiting…with his blue convertible and until Momma makes it to his side in Heaven….every once in a while, he’ll invade her dreams and take her for a quick spin…til they meet again….because…last night…
The highway with the no destination…Fr: Morgue files.
I saw you in my dream…We were driving side by side…On a highway to no known destination…Last night in my dream…I saw your face again…. We were there in the moonlight forever…(IZ)
Ifonlyyoubelieve, on a Moonlight Night, the Fairieswill reveal themselves, frolicking among the flowers, skirting the stepping-stones…. Peeking out from behind the miniature roses & Impatiens,
Tutus the color of rainbows…. From Morguefile.com ING 1554 By: Violet Dragonfly
Their tiny iridescent wings & tutus the colors of arainbow,
As they prepare for Circle of the Fairy Dance, in the flower garden.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the neighborhood, across the street from the flower garden, a victim of cancer, chose to forego traditional treatment so as not to prolong the agony. Abandoned by the medical world, she struggled to find relief from the pain, with Jack Daniels.
Her options narrowed, and she lost the fight to live, while man’s best friend,
Faithful friend forever.Fairy and angel in the garden.
her faithful dog, guarded her bedside from harms way.
When her spirit finally escaped the shell of her wasted body,
we believe, the Fairies, in the flower garden, across the street, paused, to welcome the latest member to join the Circle of the Fairy Dance.
Moon-lit NightPreparing for Circle of the Fairy Dance.
So on a moonlight night, if you take the time to enjoy the flower garden
You just may see the Circle of the Fairy Dancewith a new LeadBallerina
Her earthly tribulations behind her, she twirls effortlesslyin pink satin slippers, hergossamerwings & tutu, the very color of the powderrose petals.
Ballet slippers From Morguefile.com File 5471309965933 KaKiskyTears in Heaven
Everyone knows, like Jakita, I am a Policy and Procedure Wonk. There are rules to be followed, or you face the consequences.
I believe…do you believe?
Realists will tell you flights of fancy, like Fairies in the Garden, have never been established or proven. Still, as Ruby the Incredibly Wide Eyed Monkey,sometimes I want to check behind the mirror to understand the image, scour the bushes to look for evidence, live on the edge, embrace fantasy…..
Tell me, I beg you…what is real… what you see and hearor what you feel for no reason…like a mighty hand that reaches into your chest to squeeze your heart and your eyes tear up or a dazzling sabre of white light zips up your spinal cord and zaps your brain, rendering you breathless. And that has happened to me, so I know, I know, I should have paid more attention in Science Class.
Ruby, Tigger and Babby..chewed a bit, loved a lot…
Oh, that’s right…no classes for me…I’m inanimate … still I listen, bring comfort, cuddle and console…. I serve a purpose, helping little Two & Four Footed attain skills to become successful adults, compassionate and sensitive, even if it is not proven, documented and credited.
Yes, I wonder about the GreatBeyond because well, Momma makes me curious. You see she has a big photo of RIP Daddy in the bedroom. Often she comes in, sits cross-legged on the bed, and communes with him.
RIP Daddy, a good,good man.
Usually it is a silent session where she gazes at him, he stares back, always the same half-smile on his face. I hear no words, can only guess that in some way, it brings Momma some measure of peace that no scientist would recognize or acknowledge.
At other times Momma comes in, and talks out loud to RIP Daddy as she cleans and polishes his picture although it seems she doesn’t always meet her time requirements as she gets wrapped up in the conversation. RIP Daddy is always silently supportive.He seems to be a much better listener and never shows attitude, now that he has winged his way to Paradise.
Momma also will sometimes light a candle in RIP Daddy’s Memoryand talks to him. The flickering flame, steady, bright, casts rainbowlightbeams through his very soul, (which is still alive, albeit in an alternate universe). And it was that manifestation and so much more that gripped my monkey soul, making me believe…..there is a lot to be understood… a lot that can not be ruled out.
BE A DONOR Candle..Daddy was!
One day, cross my heart and hope to die, I saw, I kid you not, as Momma sat there communing, a grey shadow,in the form of a man,separate from the flame and plant itself on the white wall in front of her. In the centre of the chest was a deep pink throbbing heart,while a river of silver seemed to start in his toes, dart up his legs and back, culminating in a ball like brain. Always in touch and in tune to the Spirit moving around us, Momma looked up and gasped. That is when a mighty hand reached into my chest to squeeze my heart.My eyes teared up and a searing sabre of light zipped up my spinal cord and zapped my brain,rendering me breathless…but don’t tell the scientists….they’ll laugh at both Momma and me.
Someday We’ll Be Together…
Now, if you have a theory, do tell … otherwise like a UFO … all we know is the truth is out there.
When you grew up in the country there were three things that you believed in…to varying degrees, depending on what day of the week, or what time of the year it was.
Sweet Baby Jesus. I just want to kiss his little hands.
First and foremost was Sweet Baby Jesus, next Santa Claus, although it boggled your mind how he could give gifts to all the good boys and girls on one night and that he had winter boots just like your fathers’….then there was LittleGirlLost.
No one knew how LittleGirlLost actually got lost. Some said that she died during the birthing process and her devastated parents never had another child. Another story had her lost in the woods and befriended by a family of dire wolves. Somehow LittleGirlLost never got to enjoy her crib or four-poster bed, although stories passed down through the generations do get a little sketchy.
Now nothing was recorded so there was a bit of argument the first time she appeared to the country folk. Was it the late 1770’s or the early 1800’s? And when was the last time she was seen? Frequently, maybe even last summer.Unlike the townsfolk,LittleGirlLostnever aged. Even Miss Misfit Molly had recorded a siting in her journal on the Summer Solstice, 1967. Now I know you are thinking…
The spooky mirror pool.….There definitely is something going on in there!
The SecretSociety of Scryers…sure ….they see a lot of things with their mirror pools but no, it was other folks, reputable, never took a tipple, who swore on a stack of Biblesthat had encountered her….sometimes several fine upstanding citizens, in different places, on the same night.
Okay, okay, settle down….it is not LittleGirl Lost but the curly, blonde hair is so LittleGirlLost.
One thing for sure was that either by coincidence or fact, through the generations, LittleGirlLost was always said to be totally angelic, about five years old with long, curly, blonde hair, cascading down her back and glow-in-the dark sapphire blue eyes. She wore a long flowing robe, almost like a nightgown, with pale pink smocking. In her glittering slippers, she would whirl and twirl, emerging out of the shadows, into the light…now you see her, now you don’t.And everyone wanted to see her because she was so whimsical,magical and brought forth SevenBlessingsnot only to the Seer but their families, like bumper crops for farmers, or financial gain or love….or whatever your heart desired to bring you happiness.
Momma said she had to tell the truth…she can’t say for sure that she ever saw LittleGirlLost. However, one time, late at night when Momma was walking home she almost convinced herself that she saw the back of LittleGirlLost, her long gown trailing on the ground, her golden hair flowing behind her. At that moment a cloud passed over the moon,casting shadows that masked the night. LittleGirlLost had evaporated before Momma had a chance to scientifically prove that there may be some things in the world stranger than fiction.
Like, it’s a Momma story…do you believe???
So… let us know if you see her. I am anxious to help LittleGirlLost get home….where ever that is ….because home is where the ♥ is.
But I don’t know where I am 
