Comment by Greg's Jewel on June 27, 2011 at 3:44pm
I like most of the words in Mark Twain's poem here; they evoke some soothing thoughts. But it's terribly difficult, for me, to end this type of sentiment on "good night." Maybe it's because I'm only a year-old widow, still suffering the loss of my One and Only True Love--my husband of 33 years; maybe it's because I never liked nighttime and always felt a sense of fresh energy, comfort, safety, expectation, and possibility, and the ability to solve a problem or start a project, with the dawning of a new day; or maybe it's because I'm trying to keep my focus on Heaven, where I believe there is no more night but only the light of Glory--Morning Glory, where I believe my husband now resides in total wellness and joy and where we will someday be reunited . . . in eternal morning. Well, thank you for the opportunity to opine; thank you, Legacy, for this wonderful and excellent site, which allows for so much grief processing and healing for so many of us who have lost our cherished loved ones.
Comment by Greg's Jewel on June 27, 2011 at 3:44pm
I like most of the words in Mark Twain's poem here; they evoke some soothing thoughts. But it's terribly difficult, for me, to end this type of sentiment on "good night." Maybe it's because I'm only a year-old widow, still suffering the loss of my One and Only True Love--my husband of 33 years; maybe it's because I never liked nighttime and always felt a sense of fresh energy, comfort, safety, expectation, and possibility, and the ability to solve a problem or start a project, with the dawning of a new day; or maybe it's because I'm trying to keep my focus on Heaven, where I believe there is no more night but only the light of Glory--Morning Glory, where I believe my husband now resides in total wellness and joy and where we will someday be reunited . . . in eternal morning. Well, thank you for the opportunity to opine; thank you, Legacy, for this wonderful and excellent site, which allows for so much grief processing and healing for so many of us who have lost our cherished loved ones.
This poem reminds me of my grandfather, Ozell, who passed away in
November 2007. He was born and raised in Alabama and was a farmer
for much of his life. I can picture the rolling hills, big old
trees swaying gently in the breeze, the sun shining - and Grandaddy
in his Sunday best mowing the lawn, all 5 acres of it! It gives me
comfort to think that my grandfather is still a part of the
beautiful countryside where he grew up. Even though he's gone, and
I'm far from Alabama, I feel close to him.
This poem reminds me of my grandfather, Ozell, who passed away in
November 2007. He was born and raised in Alabama and was a farmer
for much of his life. I can picture the rolling hills, big old
trees swaying gently in the breeze, the sun shining - and Grandaddy
in his Sunday best mowing the lawn, all 5 acres of it! It gives me
comfort to think that my grandfather is still a part of the
beautiful countryside where he grew up. Even though he's gone, and
I'm far from Alabama, I feel close to him.
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