photo credit; Pamela Ford Green 2025 On my recent excursion to Animal Kingdom with my youngest grandchildren, I noticed these colorful pieces of cloths hanging from ropes among some trees. After a little research I discovered that in certain cultures, hanging cloths on trees serves as a form of offering a prayer, leaving a message for spirits or deities or for making a wish. I further learned they are called Clootie trees. So, on this second day of the year 2025, I am posting this picture for you, the reader. I pray that you will live each day of the new year to the best of your ability. I ask that the angels, the spirits, your deity to protect and guide you. Lastly, I wish for you love, laughter and health as you travel through the year ahead.
There is a sacredness in tears, They are not the marks of weakness, but of power. They are messengers of unspeakable love. Washington Irving (1783-1859) I have not been able to write about this until now. My father left this world early in the morning on December 4, 2022. I was holding him in my arms, trying to keep him upright so he could breathe easier. His other children, close by, holding his hand, telling him they loved him, watching in disbelief at what was happening. My mom, his wife of 73 years, lay in bed next to him, holding his hand not ever wanting to let go. I remember being surrounded by silence after his last breathe, then quiet sobbing and then slowly everyone filtered out of the room. My brother and I lay my Dad's body down in the middle of the bed and gently covered him, just as if he were sleeping. I left the room for a moment and as I came back I saw my brother, my Dad's only son, sitting on the bed, bent over and hugging his...
I woke up and set my intentions for the day. I was off to an outdoor yoga class and then I thought I was going to be helping paint my daughters living room. As it turned out, my daughter was bringing the kids to a Black Lives Matter protest downtown. I thought for a moment and realized that I wanted to go along in case she needed me to help with the kids. As we walked towards the protest, my grandkids carried their signs with pride. My nine year old grand daughter was old enough to understand and verbalize, that she was doing this to support a cause. She later stated, "All people are equal and Black lives matter." My four year old grandson was less verbal but none the less was engaged with the energy that surrounded us. Despite their age difference, these two are quite close. Sure, they argue like most siblings, but they defend each other fiercely. They are both products of a biracial marriage, my grand daughter inheriting he...
Love Aunt Marge! <3
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