Breadth of Understanding…

Dear Family and Friends,

Ever since my father-in-law’s passing on October 31st, my husband has been sorting through his dad’s belongings. A job only he can do to know what should be kept. His dad was very organized, not only with important documents, but also with precious keepsakes. One item that my hubby found was a recipe card written by his mom, Mable, in the mid 50s to her son, Wil, who she called Billy. A card that offered sage advice for living a good life.

In case the card is hard to read:

First thing in A.M. drink 1 pint which is two cups of hot water every morning. It is more necessary than washing your face.
Later drink a glass of fruit juice.
Eat something ‘alive’ not cooked each day. Celery or apples, or oranges, or grapes. Eat them while they are on the market and in good shape. “Life makes life”, eat them fresh and alive, all the fruits that you can. “Cooked or canned are dead and cannot make you a live body.”
Cut the sandwiches out if at all possible. A couple of bananas and a pound of grapes with an apple or orange will hold you for a long time.
Drink more and more water! The body needs it just as much if not more than too much food.
Don’t forget your twisting exercises and the ‘Stand at Attention’ exercise to strengthen your muscles. You don’t want to be a hnch back at 40, so stand straight and tall. Get on the bars and swing every chance you get.
How is golf? Better get going before Phil (his brother) writes for his clubs! “Make hay while the sun shines!”
Please carry this card where you will read it once at least – once a day – until you do what it says to do!
Happy Days to you, MEMS (her loving acronym).

Mable at 85 with her sons (my FIL on the right).


Wil carried this advice from his mother each day, and he knew that she didn’t write the card to preach. But she was a woman born in 1889, and her intellect was beyond her years. She was intelligent, independent, believed in Astrology, an independent health care worker who believed in taking care of our bodies and minds. She advocated for eating right and nurturing mental health. She may have been delicate and petite, but she was strong in character and mind. She lived to be 90!

We found special letters Mable wrote to Billy, along with this special card. And we know there will be more to come. Treasures to keep those wonderful memories company. My hubby was lucky to know all of his grandparents, except for his dad’s dad who passed away when his dad was very young. I only knew my dad’s mom, and even then, I was young when she passed, so my memories are vague. We’re grateful that our daughter and son had the chance to spend time with their grandparents, except again, with my hubby’s mom who passed away before they were born.

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

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Until that time…

Whenever we’d say goodbye, he’d say, “Until that time…”

The call came at 2:16 am in the wee hours of Halloween. Our beloved dad and father-in-law took his last breath at 2:05. After being on hospice for three months, his body slowly declining, the suffering lingered.

Until that time when it was the right time for him…when his soul ascended to join the other spirits of Allhallows Eve.

He lived to be 100 years old! And he was a great man with a gentle heart. As much as the tears will come, we are comforted knowing that he is at peace and no longer in need of morphine. There is a whole host of family where he’s headed now, so he will be welcomed with open arms and reunited with loved ones who have been missed.

So, we are going to allow the feelings of sadness and grief to be felt. We will find comfort in precious memories. But most importantly, we will honor and celebrate this wonderful man who lived for over a century.

Our daughter and son visiting Grandpa in March of 2019.

I remember a poem that is written by my lovely friend, Selma Martin. It’s one of many that stood out from her beautiful poetry book, In the Shadow of Rainbows. After reading her words again, out loud for my husband to hear, we both agreed that this poem is perfect for his dad:

When Death Comes

When death comes
I don’t want to look back
lovelorn, empty, frightened
– Oh, no!
When death comes
I want to be led into eternity
curious, full of joy
knowing the world I leave
is better for the love I gave.

© Selma Martin

These words are my father-in-law. He was loving, nonjudgemental, a social butterfly, and his heart was full of joy! His life was not devoid of heartache and loss, but he always moved forward in the direction the silver lining guided him.

Thank you, Selma, for this profound poem that resonates with our family at this time. 🙏🏻

Thank you, Dad, for the love you gave. We were fortunate to have you as our father. You will always be in our hearts. ❤️

Until that time…when we will meet again…we love you! ❤️

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

Finding peace…

Dear Friends,

I hope you’re doing well. Our family has been spending as much time as possible with my father-in-law who is nearing the end of his life. He is on hospice, living in a lovely facility with the best care. It has been difficult to witness his body failing, but the silver lining is that spending more time with him has been a gift – these moments have given us room to prepare for the inevitable. When he is lucid on occasion, the gift is even greater.

Writing poetry during my break has been soothing. This surreal experience has been emotional for all of us, but if it inspires me to write, my husband feels it’s a beautiful thing. I was motivated to try a Haibun for the first time after reading D.L. Finn’s gorgeous poetry book, Deep in the Forest Where Poetry Blooms. I loved her collection and will share a review and a couple others in the next few weeks.

This piece may not qualify as a Haibun, but it’s a beginning…

The Last Days

The outdoor temperature feels like a summer day in August though ghosts and goblins lurk around the bend. The orange ball shines brilliantly lighting up the clear blue sky. But inside his room, death awaits in the corners – a dreary atmosphere until we turn on lights to uplift our spirits. Classical music drifts out the windows, swirling around the trees and gardens still bursting with reds and oranges. Photos of family and friends, and ball caps from favorite sports teams embellish the bare white walls.

He lies in bed each day, body frail. A vision we hope will fade over time. A vision contrasting to the man who hiked mountains. The small clock ticking on the bedside table and the calendar hanging on the wall irrelevant. His words, an untranslatable language. His appetite, diminished, but it’s time for breakfast, so we pull the lids from each tub. He slightly opens his mouth like a mama bird feeds her chick, and we gently hold the spoon so he can take in tiny bites of pureed eggs and oatmeal. The tubs still look full, but so is his stomach. Sleep calls him. His chest slowly moves up and down with soft breaths. We stretch out this moment, then we lay a kiss on his forehead, tell him that we love him and that we’ll see him later. We steal one more glance at Dad, then we slowly walk out the door with tears struggling for freedom.

a routine until
he slowly draws his last breath
preparing our hearts

**A Haibun is a combination of prose and haiku, and usually includes autobiography, diary, essay, prose poem, short story, or travel journal.

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

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Thank you to those who have purchased your copy of Ever So Gently,
and who have shared beautiful reviews. 🩵

Thanks so much for visiting, and I look forward to reading your posts again. ❤️

Hospice Wings

He sees
emerald rolling hills
and brilliant blue skies
that stretch forever.

He sees a train rolling by,
the passengers wave,
cars float in the clouds,
a wire suspended between lips,
a lady painted on the door,

but he listens,
he understands,

his appetite takes in small bites,
slow swallowing,
juice flows fluidly through
a flexible straw,

yesterday, cranberry flavors
made him smile.
Today, he winced at the thought.

We hold his hand,
sometimes, he doesn’t let go.

We say, “I love you.”

He repeats these words,
then adds
“More than you know.”

Each day differs.
Each day surprises.
Each day is heartbreaking
as we wait…

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

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Thank you for visiting! ❤️

The celebrations and preparations…

Dear Friends,

It has been a wild, exciting ride with the launch of my new book and all the wonderful support I’ve been given. But in the midst of the excitement, my father-in-law has been on hospice for almost two weeks, and it’s been tough, to say the least. A surreal time, waiting for the inevitable. But his large support circle ensures that he is comfortable and loved, which is most important.

Before he started to decline, we already had our backpacking trip reserved in the Sierra Mountains, but with his encouragement, we are still going. Although, due to my foot issue, we decided that I shouldn’t push it. My foot has been cooperating, but I’d hate to overdo it and take five steps backwards. So, we’re camping. We’ll be relaxing by the lake, surrounded by ponderosa pines and nature’s warm embrace. And this is really what we need. My brother-in-law will ‘hold down the fort’ while we’re gone. He also told us to go. “Dad wants you to enjoy the adventure.” We will have our Spot X satellite device though to stay in touch. And obviously, if something changes before we plan to leave, we won’t go. Always ‘one day at a time.’

So, I’ll be offline next week and will return the following week of the 21st. The photo above is from one of our trips to our favorite Sierra lake, and the poem below is in my book and one I wrote while sitting on the shore in the company of the smooth water, and journal and pen (and hubby, of course.)

The Sun Knows

Evening advances.
The shore wears nothing
but a few rocks
scattered on its sand.
In their quiet space,
a father and son hold fishing lines
hoping their luck will lift.
A lone sailboat glides by
pausing for the unfolding.
With hair the color of an egret,
an older man leans against a stump.

Clouds understand why we wait.
A fine yellow highlighter
has delicately outlined
their smooth edges.
Occasionally, trout jump
out of the still water,
only a few ripples
show their excitement.

Then suddenly the sky explodes
in tangerines, salmons, canary yellows –
brighter with every second.
It’s as though a painter swished
her brush back and forth
on the immense backdrop,
to the left, to the right,
repeating with the grace
of an orchestra leader.
Can the sun slipping behind
downy clouds
be more spectacular?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The blog tour will continue when I return and I have to share two more beautiful reviews:

Reading Ms. Scott’s poetry is like roaming the pages of a spiritual book and you can feel a connection. Upon picking up this book I first read “Ever So Gently” and felt an instant connection, as I’ve lived such moments myself during bushcrafting adventures, connected to nature and all of creation. As I continue to read, each poem is equally as deep and reveals not only the writers soul, but my own.
~ Scott MitchellLauren Scott will touch your soul. 5 stars

What an endearing gathering of short poems, some written as Haiku and other syllabic poetry, but all comforting, calming, restorative. Presented in three sections, these verses pose the wonder of nature, the love of family, even the delight of a pet. An elegant medley.
~ Joy Neal Kidney An endearing collection. 5 stars

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

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Trouble – Acrostic Poetry

Photo by Inzmam Khan on Pexels.com

Trouble – An Acrostic poem inspired by Colleen’s post , but mine turned into a double acrostic with a more somber twist. It may even be more of a story than a poem. When I saw the word ‘trouble’ my father-in-law came to mind…

Thriving in life’s sunrises and sunsets
Reveling in life, travel, staying active,
Over the last century he’s lived a fulfilled life,
Unaffected by pessimism, his sanguinity
Bestows a light on all who walk in his circle.
Legendary in his knowledge and keen memory,
Enervated and full of pain is his body now.

Taking each day as it comes, persistent agony
Rarely breaks from its stopover, but complaints
Outstandingly never fall from his lips. It is
Unusual for the query to escape, but he
Breathes gently before asking when the distress will
Liquidate his bones and muscles, when it will all finally
End.

Maybe you can relate? Perhaps you’re in the same situation with a loved one?

On a lighter note, if you find yourself at a loss for words, desperately needing poetry writing inspiration, visit Colleen.

Thank you for reading. ❤️

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

To Dad: A Father’s Day Tribute ♥

Mom and Dad wedding 1945

From Air Force days
to a forever blind date
Six decades of sharing love
to his lovely soul mate

He misses her now
but has managed along
with support of three daughters
He’s where he belongs

His memory entertains
from WWII days
amazing those who listen
Is 93 his true age?

He’s able to witness
a senior graduation
He’s so proud of our son
His face wears true elation

Then one incident
shakes up our world
The worst of thoughts
in my mind unfurl

But with God’s blessing
and His ideal timing
this story ends happily
Our sun remains shining

Dad

© LScott 2013

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD and GRANDPA! WE LOVE YOU!
WE HAD A SCARE, BUT WE’RE SO THANKFUL YOU’RE OKAY
AND YOU WERE ABLE TO JOIN US IN CELEBRATING
YOUR GRANDSON’S GRADUATION.

I ALSO SEND LOVING WISHES TO MY HUBBY,
MY FATHER-IN-LAW AND ALL FATHER’S
WHO HAVE LAID A SOLID FOUNDATION
FOR THEIR FAMILIES!

♥ ♥ ♥