By the Light of the Moon


Her rheumy old eyes could still see light and dark, although everything else was a blur. She wondered, “Is that the sun?  Or is it the moon?” She longed to run outdoors, free of wires and beeping machines and tubes,  free to reach for the stars.

Her body was keeping her captive these days, but her spirit yearned for the freedom that old age had stolen from her.  She closed her eyes, and dreamed of the years of her life. Sometimes tears leaked from under her eyelids.  Sometimes a smile would linger.

“Soon,” they said. “Soon.”

You Promised!


Ernestine trembled. Her husband and son held her hands, but still she trembled.

“This isn’t  our home, Oscar.  Where are we going?  Richard, why are we going there?”

“Momma, it’s okay,” said Richard. Oscar, too, trembled as he walked Ernie forward. They were out of options, but his heart was breaking.

“Oscar, let’s go home. Please. Please take me home.”

“We’re going to your new home, Ernie, dear.  You’ll like it. People will take care of you. It’s beautiful!”

Tears tracked her wrinkled cheeks. “You said forever, Oscar.  You promised!”

Sobbing, she repeated, “You promised!”

The Waiting is the Best Part


Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt


Image result for anticipation

There are many things a child anticipates, and I’m using the word with a totally positive connotation here.  Most kids look forward to the first day of going to school.  It is a hallmark of their long trek to maturity, although they don’t see it in those words.  To most kids, it’s just proof that they’re not a little kid any more. They go to SCHOOL!

We anticipated birthdays with great hope, sometimes satisfied and sometimes not, but the anticipation of the event was always exciting. Another year older to prove yet again that we are no longer little kids.

Summer vacation?  Oh, you bet!  I loved school, but I loved summer more. I don’t remember ever being disappointed in summer when I was a kid.

Of course I anticipated falling in love, marriage, children, and now grandchildren. It’s a wonderful life. I also, most days, look forward with anticipation to to different kinds of work God has led me to.

There were Thanksgiving, Christmas, and then the new year, with the first big day coming on February 14 when we eagerly anticipated getting a bagful of valentine cards.  And all these special days filled our heads as we slept and dreamed; they filled our awake hours with high hopes, and in my case, those hopes were generally fulfilled.

I loved Thanksgiving because of the friends, family, food and fun.  Christmas?  Same thing, only presents, too. And in my house, God was the center of those two holidays. I’ve always loved the story of the first Thanksgiving.  I find it both grievous and  infuriating that our revisionist historians these days are doing their best to take the shine off America’s first years, even to the point of a college removing the American flag because some arrogant young people say  it represents violence and terrorism.  What a slap in the face to all those who have fought and died to preserve our freedom to fly that flag!

I would challenge these folks to find me one single nation in the history of the world that has NOT been guilty of violence at some point in its history. But that’s not what this post is about.

I still anticipate these special days today, at age 69.  It’s different now, more settled, more peaceful, perhaps more realistic. I am still thankful for family, friends, food, and fun. I am looking forward to tomorrow.

I am thankful, on this Thanksgiving eve, for all the ways God has led me through my life to this point,  and I’m truly anticipating the rest of the journey as it comes closer to its end, because the greatest anticipation of all is to see my Savior.  That’s what will make it heaven.

Dear Older Me

From You to You

Write a letter to your 14-year-old self. Tomorrow, write a letter to yourself in 20 years.


Yesterday, we wrote to our 14-year-old-selves. Today, we’re looking ahead. That’s harder. We really don’t know if we’ll be here in 20 years, or even in 20 minutes!  But I’m going to assume I will be. I’ve chosen to follow through with this prompt rather than the one that is posted for today about looking out a window and then describing what you see. I like this idea better.

I was pleased when this picture showed up on my Facebook feed yesterday, because it really is worth 1000 words:


Dear 88-year-old Linda,

It really is still me in there, behind the wrinkles and the grey and the moustache and beard I have to deal with every day! Sometimes I’m shocked when I look in the mirror because I don’t recognize that strange old lady looking back at me.

Then I do. It’s me. Believe it or not, I’ve reached this grand old age, and I look every minute of it. By the way, I know I should be saying “It is I,” not “It is me.” Just so you know I know 🙂

I’m a widow. Terry’s body gave in faster than mine, what with all the pain from his injury to his foot all those years ago.  I miss him every day, and I look forward to seeing him in heaven.

My kids are all grandparents, some of them great-grandparents. I have many descendants, which is a delight to me, and something I wish I could share with Terry.  He would have loved seeing them all together.

I finally started writing seriously after Terry died.  I had more time, and even though I still worked for a while at my counseling office, I got busy doing some writing for publication. The rejections were hard to take. Still are. I’m not done yet.  But I’ve had a few things published, including a couple of books. My mom would be delighted.  She always encouraged me to write.

I live in a nice, adequate assisted living apartment. Because of the books, I can afford a good place.  I’ve made some good friends here, and we joke with each other about the lines of people waiting for one of us to die so they can have the apartment.  You don’t take death quite so seriously when you get to be our age.  It’s coming, no avoiding it. For some, it will be a release. Pain and old age come in a package.

I’m a year older than my mom was when she died.  I think she would have lived longer if she hadn’t had such awful back pain. I have the same condition she did, but there’s better treatment these days, and I’m grateful for that.

My mind is still pretty good. I forget silly, day-to-day stuff like where I put my glasses, but I still know who I am, and who my family is.  I try not to bore people silly with stories of when I was young. After all, we all used to be young, we all have our own stories. Some of the people here are wonderful to listen to. Others, not so much. Just a litany of their pains, disappointments in life, nobody comes to see them, blah blah blah. Doesn’t surprise me no one comes to see them.  They’re no fun.

I still love my God.  I still wear out my Bible, and the older I grow the more time I spend in prayer. The closer I get to heaven, the more real it all becomes.

I’ve had a wonderful, blessed life.  I’ve had the love of a good man, the pleasure of children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and even one great-great-granchild. One of those five generation pictures everyone enjoys so much.  A lot has changed on the political front, Things are very different now than when I was young. I know it won’t be long until the Lord comes to take His people home to heaven. Maybe I’ll live long enough for that, and maybe I won’t.

Either way, that’s my final destination.