I'm actually not sure if Dad was there or not, but there were many other loved ones gathered around--some that have gone on ahead and some that are still very much alive. We were all together. The air was filled with laughter and conversation. (And did I hear some faint music in the background?....it is the Ferguson Family after all.....)
And all I know is that we were blissfully happy.
I asked Aunt Vi if she would stand with the children (and one of their stuffed animals) for a photo. I saw her smile and her mouth open but all I could hear was the sound of my alarm clock, startling me out of the pleasantest of dreams.
*****
I have been reading Little Pilgrim's Progress to the children. We read it before bed last night. The weary little pilgrims are nearing the Celestial City where there's the promise of joyous reunions and finishing their difficult journey and of course, best of all, seeing the Prince and the KING.
This must be a longing of my heart, too....
Hebrews 12 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Birthday Boys
Dad received a special gift on his third birthday...a younger brother.
The youngest two in a family of 13 children, Marshall and Virgil had many shared experiences growing up. I loved to hear them tell stories of hilarious childhood memories. Although I know the stories re-told were the pleasant ones and there are yet others untold of heartache and difficulty.
They depended on each other, laughed with (and at) each other,
supported each other, and even when separated by thousands of miles, oceans, America at war and different stages of life, they could always pick up right where they left off.
They have had a bond like I've never seen.
Cheers to the birthday brothers......
The youngest two in a family of 13 children, Marshall and Virgil had many shared experiences growing up. I loved to hear them tell stories of hilarious childhood memories. Although I know the stories re-told were the pleasant ones and there are yet others untold of heartache and difficulty.
They depended on each other, laughed with (and at) each other,
supported each other, and even when separated by thousands of miles, oceans, America at war and different stages of life, they could always pick up right where they left off.
They have had a bond like I've never seen.
Cheers to the birthday brothers......
Happy Birthday boys; Virgil an Marshall Ferguson. Perhaps Some day(in heaven) you'll have another day like this! We love you both!!
Threescore and ten (plus 10 more)
Dad always quipped that he would only live to his "three-score and ten."
(Psalm 90:10)
10 The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.
Well, Dad, you made it. I bet you'd be surprised to know you made it to "fourscore."
Usually birthdays are for the person born on that specific day. Obviously. Our situation here is a little different. Dad doesn't know it's his birthday. He doesn't remember what birthday means. He doesn't know the significance of the celebration- the candles, the balloons, the gifts.
That's why it was so special to receive a gift from Dad as we celebrated his birthday.
Dad sat through our visit in typical fashion: eyes closed (sleeping?), unaware of loved ones visiting, oblivious to his surroundings. We talked to him (more like "talked at him") and talked to one another, enjoying our time together (even though he was an "inactive" participant.) When he stirred from slumber, I leaned in closer.
"I love you, Dad."
His eyes remained closed, but a slight smile crossed his face.
"You do?"
"Yes, Dad, I love you!"
"I love you, too," he said, "I love you, too."
Then, like so often before, the moment was gone. But the pleasant look lingered on his face. And the joy was mine to savor! I heard his voice! A response! He talked to me! He knew it was me! And he said HE LOVED ME! Twice!
Incredulous! What a treasure; what a special, special gift from him! Those words were meant for my ears and while part of me wanted to (and still wants to) keep it all to myself, those around me watching my reaction to the unbelievable, knew how happy I was to hear that simple sentiment.
Happy fourscore birthday, Daddy. Thanks for the gift.....
(Psalm 90:10)
10 The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.
Well, Dad, you made it. I bet you'd be surprised to know you made it to "fourscore."
Usually birthdays are for the person born on that specific day. Obviously. Our situation here is a little different. Dad doesn't know it's his birthday. He doesn't remember what birthday means. He doesn't know the significance of the celebration- the candles, the balloons, the gifts.
That's why it was so special to receive a gift from Dad as we celebrated his birthday.
Dad sat through our visit in typical fashion: eyes closed (sleeping?), unaware of loved ones visiting, oblivious to his surroundings. We talked to him (more like "talked at him") and talked to one another, enjoying our time together (even though he was an "inactive" participant.) When he stirred from slumber, I leaned in closer.
"I love you, Dad."
His eyes remained closed, but a slight smile crossed his face.
"You do?"
"Yes, Dad, I love you!"
"I love you, too," he said, "I love you, too."
Then, like so often before, the moment was gone. But the pleasant look lingered on his face. And the joy was mine to savor! I heard his voice! A response! He talked to me! He knew it was me! And he said HE LOVED ME! Twice!
Incredulous! What a treasure; what a special, special gift from him! Those words were meant for my ears and while part of me wanted to (and still wants to) keep it all to myself, those around me watching my reaction to the unbelievable, knew how happy I was to hear that simple sentiment.
Happy fourscore birthday, Daddy. Thanks for the gift.....
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
A Race to Remember
To commemorate Dad's 80th birthday, some family members teamed up to honor Dad by participating with others personally affected by this cruel disease in a 5K event called A Race to Remember.
Here's some photos of that (cold 32*) morning:
With friends: "we're in this together"
TJ's first 5K and he smoked the competition,
finishing in 25 minutes!
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Here's some photos of that (cold 32*) morning:
With friends: "we're in this together"
Cheering section!!
TJ's first 5K and he smoked the competition,
finishing in 25 minutes!
.jpg)
Emily winning a third place medal!
We love you, Dad,
our handsome Army Soldier.
Happy birthday.
Veteran's Day Weekend 2013
Marshall Ferguson 11.13.1933
Aftershave
He smelled like familiar aftershave. White-haired with a shaky smile. He didn't mind my personal query and comments.
"May I ask, what aftershave do you wear? You smell like my dad. He'll be 80 next week and he's been sick for a long time. I really miss him...." my voice caught in my throat.
How embarrassing to act this way in front of a total stranger.
He wasn't phased a bit.
He put his hand on my arm and quietly said, "I'm 81 and you know, I thank God every day for my health. It is a gift."
"May I ask, what aftershave do you wear? You smell like my dad. He'll be 80 next week and he's been sick for a long time. I really miss him...." my voice caught in my throat.
How embarrassing to act this way in front of a total stranger.
He wasn't phased a bit.
He put his hand on my arm and quietly said, "I'm 81 and you know, I thank God every day for my health. It is a gift."
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Land of the Living
I wonder what heaven is like....on so many levels.
It seems nearer, more real to me as many I know are already there or fast approaching it.
Today I am wondering if there's a celebration "eternity arrival day" like birthday celebrations. Grandma Berkheimer celebrating entrance to heaven on this day four years ago. Aunt Vi's last week....can it really be that she's been enjoying the majesty of being side-by-side with Jesus for a whole year?
They are more alive now than they ever were here on earth.
We are here, left behind, while those that called Jesus "Savior, Master, Lord" here on earth, have answered that final call to the true Land of the Living.
It seems nearer, more real to me as many I know are already there or fast approaching it.
Today I am wondering if there's a celebration "eternity arrival day" like birthday celebrations. Grandma Berkheimer celebrating entrance to heaven on this day four years ago. Aunt Vi's last week....can it really be that she's been enjoying the majesty of being side-by-side with Jesus for a whole year?
They are more alive now than they ever were here on earth.
We are here, left behind, while those that called Jesus "Savior, Master, Lord" here on earth, have answered that final call to the true Land of the Living.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Change Purse
Something about him reminded me of Dad. (OK, more than one.) The white hair. The walking gait of a short-legged man. The way he talked to me without really making eye contact. The pleasant look on his face. The slow Southern drawl. I was drawn to him immediately.
And I realized that when he came to the register to pay, I completely expected him to pull a plastic change purse full of coins from his pocket.
I was a little disappointed, actually, when he didn't.
Because Dad would have.
And I realized that when he came to the register to pay, I completely expected him to pull a plastic change purse full of coins from his pocket.
I was a little disappointed, actually, when he didn't.
Because Dad would have.
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