I wasn’t the one beside you,
As the disease stole you from us,
From yourself, your identity,
Your history, your story.
No, I was the one far away,
From your struggle, your journey,
After a while, I was afraid, fearful,
That you wouldn’t know me.
Oh, what a blessing, a gift,
From God, from eternity,
That when I spoke to you,
You said that you love me.
What a joy for a clear day,
With loved ones beside you,
Singing songs to our Savior,
Knowing you were heading home.
--------------------
February 8, 2024
A Clear Day
About the Sunday before Mom passed on Friday
(see highlighted notes below)
and after reading the poem, “Alzheimer’s”
by Anthony Walton
&
Edited February 8, 2024
Like tears in rain – v4
Edited June 28, 2022
Like tears in rain – v3
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2022/06/like-tears-in-rain-v3.html
Edited June 27, 2022
Like tears in rain – v2
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2022/06/like-tears-im-rain-v2.html
Edited June 26, 2022
Like tears in rain
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2022/06/like-tears-in-rain.html
Edited June 25, 2022
Like tears in the rain – v2
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2022/06/like-tears-in-rain-v2.html
June 25, 2022
(Like) Tears in the rain
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2022/06/tears-in-rain.html
&
edited
March 13, 2015
Struggle
– v3
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2015/03/struggle-v3.html
edited
November 27, 2014
Struggle
– v2
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2014/11/struggle-v2.html
Thanksgiving
Day
August
18, 2004 21:53
Struggle
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2004/08/struggle.html
&
Edited January 14, 2024
Dripping with memory – v2
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2024/01/dripping-with-memory-v2.html
January 19, 2022
Dripping with memory
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2022/01/dripping-with-memory.html
&
January 11, 2022
Older than dad ever was
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2022/01/older-than-dad-ever-was.html
January 4, 2022
just before the mandates, the pandemic
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2022/01/just-before-mandates-pandemic.html
January 10, 2020
Obituary for Patricia Ann Ring Foss Cobb
https://www.cremationsocietyofsc.com/obituaries/Patricia-Cobb-2/#!/Obituary
https://www.eagletimes.com/obituaries/patricia-a-ring-foss-cobb/article_648ce713-d56b-541f-b6c2-ba2932501331.html
January 25, 2020
my Facebook post:
https://www.facebook.com/raymond.a.foss/posts/10157231482093003
So blessed to be
able to attend and participate in the Celebration of Life for mom today at
Grace River. I cannot express how much I appreciate the love and caring shown
by those who attended and/or those who sent flowers, thoughts, and prayers to
our family over the last two weeks.
Here are my notes
for my time of sharing - for Celebration of Life of Patricia Ann Ring Foss
Cobb:
Good morning,
thank you for coming, for showing us all your love for Mom and for us all by
being here today. For those who don’t know me, I’m Ray, mom and dad’s oldest.
When I came along on April Fool’s Day 1960, Mom was twenty-five. A fact that
was really problematic when I myself was twenty-five, because that meant mom
was FIFTY…
I am definitely
Mom and Dad’s son – analytical like dad (wanting to do it right), but I start
tasks like mom (want it done)… Unfortunately that means (for me), that I am
great at starting things, but not so good at finishing (sort of like the custom
kitchen cabinets that dad started building for mom in the kitchen that weren’t
done until shortly before we moved…).
When I got the
call from Sandy and Becky that Mom had gone home to heaven two weeks ago today
at about midnight, I was sad that she was gone but I was so joyful for the end
of this journey for mom, just as I had been for Grammy Ring.
I was so happy for the clear day that God had gifted us
the prior Sunday when I got to talk with mom twice, saying I love you and her
saying I love you, how Sandy and I made a joyful noise singing Jesus Loves Me
to her. She said a strong “Yes” when we talked a second time that she knew she
was a child of God, that she was ready to go home to heaven, that she knew God
the Father, Jesus, and all her loved ones who had gone before were waiting to
greet her home.
Mom was the first
one who loved me, who taught me about God and Jesus. She was active in her
faith. My first memory of that was in the Methodist church in Westfield, at
some young adults youth group or something. After we moved to Second
Congregational, she was active there too. I never doubted her love for me, her
encouraging me all throughout my life, and I always knew just how strong her
depth of faith was, how important God and Christ were in her life.
She was my first
teacher, the one who taught me to love books, who pushed me to do more in
school. She was my typist too, before I learned to type. I don’t know how many
times she and I were up late or up early working on a school paper I pushed to
the last minute.
Mom was my
constant in my life. She was the homeroom parent when I went to Abner Gibbs
School. Years later she laughed in sharing with me that I called her Mrs. Foss
when she was at school and mom when she was at home. I guess I needed both of
them.
One special thing
we shared, started with my Sunday School and Grammy Foss was May Day baskets.
On May 1 every year for 55 years, I would give mom a May Day basket. In the
early years on Squawfield Road, they would be maple tree flowers, tulips and
dandelions. One year, when she was working for Dave, her “basket” was faxed to
her at Communication Connections.
More than her
faith, if that is possible, family was everything to mom, something that the
Ring family certainly taught her. The connection was so real, the love and joy
so palpable, even when we were all crammed into their small dining room as the
family grew. That was so special.
Like everything,
mom didn’t do things halfway. She worked hard in everything she did. That was
something she learned from her mom and dad too. When Grampa got done with the
YMCA in Westfield, they replaced him with three people.
Like Grammy Foss,
who was known as the Cookie Lady in Springfield, mom cared for others, offering
her life to share love with others, starting with family, through her faith
life, and continuing as a CNA after she cared for Grammy Ring.
One story about
her wanting things done… I came home from YMCA Camp Shepard in Westfield one
summer day to find mom and Grampa Ring, one with a crowbar and one with a
pry-bar, getting ready to take down the outside wall between the kitchen and
the porch. Dad, if memory serves, came in to have it done his way. And I
remember the work to do the transition between the floors of the kitchen and
the porch (because they didn’t match).
Mom always showed
her love in so many ways. In 1969, I had to have knee surgery. She was there
with me throughout the three months I was at home in my full-length cast. She
even took me around for trick or treat for UNICEF, because I wasn’t going to go
out at night for regular trick or treating. The only downside was that the TV
and my chair were in the same room, so I watched her soap operas too.
I left home at 18
years old in 1978 to go to UNH. I remember leaving mom and dad almost at the
curb when I checked into my dorm, Gibbs Hall. They had taught me and had given
me wings. I was ready to fly.
I went home in
summer of 1979 and worked at Holsum Bakery on the roll oven. That was the last
time I lived at home. I worked crazy hours and I’m sure I must have been a
grumpy older brother to Matt and Becky, as the tv room was next to my bedroom.
Mom taught me
civic mindedness, something that led me to student government at UNH, to
working with and for non-profits through my work life and running for the
School Board. She and I would often talk politics, which was always interesting
because we often voted differently.
I remember so well
mom and dad being Baptized here in the fall of 1990. I was so glad to be here
with my siblings to watch that moment, as I was so glad to be here for mom and
Richard’s wedding fifteen years after dad died.
I am so joyful for
the way God gifted all of us for the time in January 1991, after Sandy and Peter
and family were gifted time that Christmas, with mom and dad at Sugarloaf. We
all got to be together sharing skiing and family time on that mountain dad
loved. I remember so well mom posing for pictures in her outfit that fit her so
well. And I so remember
the last time I saw mom and dad together, when all of the rest of us headed
home. They stayed an extra day at Sugarloaf Inn. The last image I have of them was
mom and dad like a pair of teenage lovers skiing off together with smiles on
their faces.
Mom and I returned
to Sugarloaf March 2, 2001, to spreading dad’s ashes there. We spoke aloud her
name and the names of all of us children as we released his remains to the
mountain and to the wind.
And, Mom, we will
be going back to that mountain later this year to spread yours remains there
too, joining your physical body with dad’s, just as you today are at home in
heaven with him and all of our loved ones who passed before you did.
&
edited February 20, 2021
A perfect week – v2
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2021/02/a-perfect-week-v2.html
merged, edited February 20, 2021
In the arms of the mountain – v2
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2021/02/in-arms-of-mountain-v2.html
February 20, 2021
in the arms of the mountain
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2021/02/in-arms-of-mountain.html
February 20, 2021
A week on your mountain
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2021/02/a-week-on-your-mountain.html
February 20, 2021
A perfect week
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2021/02/a-perfect-week.html
&
June 17, 2018
It seems like yesterday
http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2018/06/it-seems-like-yesterday.html
Fathers’ Day
about our ski trip together January 1991
before my father’s black ice fatal accident
Valentine’s Day – February 14, 1991
All of
my poems, photographs, and videos are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 1999,
2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012,
2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, and 2024. All
rights are reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com) for
usage. See all 53,000+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
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Poetry Where You Live, snow, winter, mile marker 19, family,
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---------------
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