Tag: love

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The Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval

This month, I’m sharing stories I captured on audio in the final days of Dad’s life. There were funny moments, serious moments, sad moments – – all of them with levity and meaning. In today’s audio below, listen for the phrase “the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval.” Translation: someone passed every level of acceptance and had made it to the inner circle of the Haynes family. While every family has its way of declaring their acceptance of a new member of the fold, this was Dad’s – – and, of course, we as his children had to get through the tests of our own spouses’ families’ gate keeping systems, too.

At our family dinner following the graveside burial, all in attendance were invited to share stories. My husband, eyes brimming with tears as they often do when something hits deep, stood and shared the story of the day he’d “done the old-fashioned thing and asked Felix if he could marry his daughter.” He described the scene: there they were, standing at the top of the dock along the Sapelo River, Spanish Moss gently blowing in the limbs of the Live Oaks, where Briar had expected it to be just him and Felix.

Only it wasn’t.

Felix was “the easy one to get by,” he shared. Miriam……..not so much. But there he was, face to face Felix AND with Miriam and all her intuition, when Dad looked over at Mom and saw that Briar got a passing score – so Dad gave Briar his blessing with two conditions: 1) “get your arms around the kids;” and 2) “encourage Kim to finish her doctoral program.” Briar had just received the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval.

He was in! And 17 years into our marriage, Briar has done both of the things my father asked of him – the kids love him, and I finished my doctoral program, ten months after Mom died of complications from Parkinson’s Disease. Even though she wasn’t physically present to see these things happen, somehow I know she knew. She knows everything, still.

Fast forward to June 2025. In the hospital room with Felix were Ken and Jennifer and I. Somewhere between Heaven and Earth, Mom stepped from behind the veil to join Dad and deliver a message to Ken and Jennifer through Dad’s words.

Did Jennifer get the Haynes family’s Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval?

She got The Grand Slam Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval!

Listen above for

the Good Housekeeping Seal of

Approval: She’s in!

Bottom of the ninth,

bases loaded with Felix,

Miriam, and Kim,

and Ken hits a Grand

Slam homerun with his choice of

a winning soul mate!

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Telling Stories to Pass the Time and Touch the Future

Today is Slice of Life Tuesday, and we’re writing to a prompt shared by Jenna Komarin: “The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next.” — Ursula K. Le Guin

That quote aptly describes the past six weeks, from the time my father took a steep nosedive the last week of May after finishing chemotherapy treatments and died of complications from Pulmonary Fibrosis on Friday, June 13. Even though there was a known certainty in the dense fog of uncertainty, the glimmer of hope in the uncertainty is what kept us all going.

Throughout the month of July, I’ll be using Dad’s stories I captured in the final weeks of his life to share poems about things that were on his mind – and I’m using the actual words from recorded audio, preserving the wording the way he spun it. I’m grateful to my friend Janette Bradley for sharing the idea to record these conversations to play again whenever I need to hear his voice.

When my brother Ken and I were there with Dad as he was rapidly deteriorating, we asked him to tell stories of family and his younger days to pass the time and keep his (and our) mind off the endless waiting and dreadful reality as things kept taking turn after turn like some sputtering single-plane engine spinning wildly out of control before the crash. It took some effort through broken breaths and the din of the oxygen machine that reminded me so much of a noisy generator, but he managed to share priceless treasures full of nuggets of wisdom from a life well lived with rich descriptions of family and friends from long ago.

In one story, he spoke an unintended haiku about his mother out of thin air. He told us, “Your grandmother said, ‘we dig our graves with our teeth,’ and she was not wrong.” I counted the syllables and captured the wisdom that he was sharing with his children ~ wisdom that his grandchildren and great grandchildren will appreciate in the coming years as they continue to remember Dad. Even when – – no, especially when – – life feels so uncertain.

Media Clip: Dad Telling About His Mother’s Sayings

Dad’s Thin Air Haiku

your grandmother said

we dig our graves with our teeth

and she was not wrong

Note: My grandmother’s quote is attributed to Thomas Moffett, a physician from the 1600s, and later to Thomas Edison, who often gets credited as the originator.

Special thanks to Two Writing Teachers at Slice of Life

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Thursday the 12th: Leading up to Friday the 13th

The last person to see our father alive who knew him was Nick Doster.

My brother Ken and I had been trying to keep vigil next to Dad’s bedside so that he didn’t die alone in a room, but the hospice nurse urged us to go take showers and grab an hour or so of sleep when we’d become too exhausted. Some patients look for those moments to die alone, preferring not to have loved ones near in their final moments, she’d assured us. We knew the time was close, too, because just that afternoon Dad had begun the conversations with the others not of this world, but with whom he was having undeterminable conversations and for whom he was reaching.

Nick Doster and Dad had traveled to Wrigley Field in Chicago to see the Cubs play several years back, and shared a deep love of all things sports. So it was no surprise that when Nick showed up in the remaining hours of Dad’s life with a red Georgia Bulldogs hat, Dad found strength for an appreciative smile.

Imagine our bittersweet sadness when the call came at 4 a.m. that Dad had passed. We felt the grief of the loss and the joy of the release of all pain and suffering from this earthly realm into the Heaven he preached about all his life. Now. Imagine us walking into that Hospice room to spend time prior to the funeral home coming for the body.

Take all the time you need, the hospice nurse offered.

Imagine us opening that wide door one last time and looking at the bed, only to see a bright yellow blanket embroidered with Psalm 119:76 in black stitching on one corner covering Dad’s body – the sunshine of Heaven. And imagine a face at total peace, no wires or tubes protruding, no oxygen machine droning, the red hat still on his head against the stark white of the pillow.

My brother and I agreed – – he wears the hat to Heaven. We know it will be the perfect complement to his black doctoral robe with the velvet on the sleeves and the red piping. Above all, we know it will bring smiles to those who will come for visitation to see that Dad, ever the champion of going as far as one can go with education and cheering as strong as one can cheer for the Georgia Bulldogs, can still cause a stirring of hearts.

Imagine the grief

Imagine the laughter

Imagine the joy

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Friday the 13th For Real

This is a time of reorienting after the loss of my father on Friday, June 13. He was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis four years ago, and with both prostate and colon cancers in the past year. He began to suffer from SVTs, a heart arrhythmia that mimics a heart attack, because of the cardiopulmonary functions working in tandem with lack of oxygen from the lungs to the heart. In other words, the lungs weakened too much to support the heart, and with the chemo cocktail on his frailty, he didn’t have anything to fight with as he reflected on his choice.

These past three weeks have been a blur, since things took a steep nose dive the Tuesday after Memorial Day. He was transported by ambulance to the hospital, on to a rehab center, back to the hospital, back to the rehab center, and back to the hospital and then a hospice facility. He never returned home, his beloved dog Kona left there to wonder what happened to him. Within hours of his first ambulance ride, one of his many dog park friends came to get Kona and will keep her as her own, assuring both Dad and us that as long as she has Kona, she will have a part of Dad; we’ve arranged for Kona to see his body at the funeral home so that she understands he did not abandon her by choice. The blanket provided by hospice covering Dad during his ride to the funeral home was not laundered at my brother’s and my request – – this will be a gift for Kona. We hope it holds Dad’s scent for her forever.

These weeks have been filled with frustration, sorrow, laughter, denial, peace, acceptance, silence, noise, unforgettable moments, and hundreds of friends and family reaching out from across the miles to get the daily update and express their condolences. His grandchildren and great grandchildren who had traveled from as far away as Nevada to say goodbye arrived in intervals on Friday, just a few hours too late – – but we know Dad left on his own terms, and we believe he did so to keep their memories of him as they knew him in healthier days. Sunday was our first Father’s Day without our patriarch.

And now, our father – pastor, friend, brother, and legend – has reunited with our mother in heaven. We celebrate them and know they are at peace, and we lay him to rest on Saturday in Christ Church Cemetery on St. Simons Island right next to her, where she has been waiting since December 2015. So many stories have been lived and shared over these past few weeks, and there will be so many more as we navigate the days ahead – – stories and events that Dad continually referred to as the serendipitous steering currents of the spirit. His service will be live streamed on St. Simons Island First Baptist Church Youtube channel at 1:00 Saturday, June 21 for any of his friends who are reading and would like to attend virtually.

serendipitous

steering currents, Dad reminds,

are of the spirit

We anticipate and welcome these moments, and we’re on the lookout for every sign and every miracle that we know will be divinely channeled our way from Heaven.

Goodbye, Dad. Until we meet again.

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January Open Write Day 4 with Erica Johnson of Arkansas

Erica writes, “Today’s poem was inspired by the poem “Nest” by Jeffrey Harrison.  I loved the surprise discovery revealed in the poem and how the poet marvels over this small miracle that they discovered while putting up their Christmas tree.  It made me want to explore my own little discoveries and what they revealed about myself or the world around me.”

You can read Erica’s full prompt and poem here, but here is her process if you’d like to use it to write a poem of your own today:

Stanza 1 – The initial discovery.  I followed the structure of Harrison’s poem using the words “It wasn’t until…that ___ discovered…”

Stanza 2 – The feeling or reaction to that discovery.  I asked myself the question “What ABOUT this discovery sticks with me?”

Stanza 3 – Start with the phrase “And now…”, how are your feelings/reflection on this discovery evolving?

Stanza 4 – Start with the phrase “And yet…”, what contrast or contradiction comes to play as you continue to reflect on your discovery?

Stanza 5 – Wrap up your poem with a final take away moment.

Photo by How Far From Home on Pexels.com


Scrap Paper Love Note

it wasn’t until

I came to make my coffee

that I found his note ~ ~ ~

amazing, cherished

sentiment on a receipt ~ ~ ~

scrap-paper surprise

and now my heart warms

like steam from my Snoopy mug ~ ~ ~

love wafting outward

and yet he is gone

driving to Alabama

me, spooning honey ~ ~

and adding creamer~ ~

swirling joy, blending heartbeats

across the state line

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Day 20 of #VerseLove with Susan Ahlbrand

Photo by Zain Ali on Pexels.com

Susan Ahlbrand of Indiana is our host today for the 20th day of #VerseLove. She inspires us to write Noteworthy poems. You can read her full prompt here.

She shares the process for writing these poems: reflect on communications you’ve had in the past . . . notes like mine, phone calls, letters, texts, Facetimes, and then work them into a poem. Feel free to tinker with an inventive form.

Getting the Picture

there was this picture

this picture of a watermelon

A WATERMELON!

a watermelon sliced

sliced like cries

cries of a mother

a mother with cancer

cancer that consumed

consumed her, piece by piece

piece by piece, like a watermelon

like a watermelon, there was

there was this picture

picture a mother

a mother crying for mercy

for mercy denied

denied until the end

the end, after the pain

the pain of loss

loss of a body, loss of a family

a family broken, a shattered picture

picture a mother

a mother who mattered

mattered to her sons

her sons who loved her

loved her and listened

listened and heard

heard her pleas

her pleas for mercy

for mercy denied

denied by others

others who refused

refused to believe

believe she felt pain

pain that consumed, piece by piece

piece by piece consumed their mother

a mother who mattered

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Day 6 of #VerseLove with Katrina Morrison

Katrina Morrison is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for the sixth day of #VerseLove2024. Her prompt inspires writers to share a photo and write a poem from our photo stream on our phones.

She explains how: Select a photo from your photostream or capture an image of a photo you have on hand. Ideally, you should appear in the photo. If you remember what was going on in the photo, draw from your memories to recreate the scene. If you do not remember what was happening when the photo was taken, use your imagination to create a scene. 

I chose a photo from yesterday’s wedding rehearsal. My baby brother is getting married today at 4:30 on St. Simon’s Island, Georgia, and we could not be happier for him and his bride.


They Do

these two join hands, hearts

forever as one today

my brother, his bride

their blind date restored

hope, led to love, commitment ~

two become one flesh

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Day 5 of #VerseLove with Leilya Pitre – Friday Night Date Night Poems

Photo by Elina Sazonova on Pexels.com

Leilya Pitre of Louisiana is our host at http://www.ethicalela.com today for our fifth day of #Verselove. You can read her poem here, along with the poem and comments of others. She inspires us to write a date night poem (about a memorable date or a standing date) using sevenlings. To write a sevenling, here is the form:

  1. Think about two contrasting ideas, concepts, people, or events (e.g., good/evil, humor/satire, war/peace, light/darkness, optimist/pessimist, flowers/weeds, etc.)
  2. Write a three-line stanza containing three things about the first one (description or explanation)
  3. Write another three-line stanza containing three other things about the second word. You may oppose the first stanza to the second or try to find some commonalities.
  4. The final line should present a kind of a punchline, a surprise, or an unusual, even oxymoronic conclusion.
  5. Add a title.

Here is my Sevenling: The Swing. 

The Swing

I said NO to a third date.
NO WAY. NEVER AGAIN.
I was running scared, hurt.

But you waited.
You asked again:
Let's go to the park, sit in the swing.

And God winked on us forever.
Actual swing where he proposed on February 16, 2008

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Happy Anniversary, Baby! Stafford Challenge Day 73, Slice of Life Challenge Day 29

Special Thanks to Two Writing Teachers

We celebrate our 16th wedding anniversary today. For a couple of divorcees who found each other a little later in life and had given up on ever marrying again, we realize now that when God winks on love, it’s a dream come true.

There we were, on a swing in a park, where he proposed while wearing a royal blue button-down shirt. There just happened to be a royal blue car driving by with a teenage kid cheering and fist pumping out the window as the love of my life was down on a knee asking for my hand (is there any wonder that I drive a bright blue Caribbean colored RAV4, even though my personality is more of a muted silver or pearly white?).

I think back to that day, on that swing, and count the joys.

A photo of our swing in the reading room of our home
Marriage Proposal Haiku

a swing proposal
with a smashed Cracker Jack ring
you'd resurrected

and still I said yes
with a yes-er yes because
you'd fixed the broken