The Beatle's Music is Playing

Nyle my husband, LOVED the Beatle's.  He identified with the backgrounds that inspired
them to write, their originality, and knew of all things Beatle.  Last year we were able to
go to Europe as a family.  There we met with our beloved daughter who had spent a
year earning a Master's at Cambridge.

Going to Liverpool was a MUST for Nyle.  We went to the homes where they grew up.
We went to the museum, and took a self-guided tour of Strawberry Fields, and all things
Beatle.  Nyle knew more about them then a guide would have known.  So as I write this
post I have the Beatle's playing.  I will never again hear a Beatle's tune without thinking
of Nyle and his love for their music.

Today was a special parade that my beloved niece and nephew participate in every year
to honor the precious baby that died one hour before she was delivered C-section.  Their
day of memory triggered a day of memory of my own.

I combined that desire to memorialize with my desire to climb into the fiery crimson
leaves of autumn.  Nyle was an artist who relished beauty.  He then would use music,
poetry, or prose to express those feelings.  He wrote two books, Flagpole Fighting
and Other Lessons My Mother Taught Me, which was a tribute to his amazing Mom.
He also wrote My Child My Love, which was a delightful fictional tale of why the
Innkeeper turned Mary and Joseph away from the main part of the Inn.

As I walked through the autumnal splendor I thought of my beloved who as long as
I knew him had severe degenerative spinal disease.  His back became more twisted
and bent as he grew older.  Walking was problematic.  To finish his undergraduate
degree in college he would sometimes lie down on the ground and drag himself
to the car.  We couldn't afford an electric wheelchair and he had problems with his
arms and neck as well.

As I walked today I rejoiced in my belief that he no longer is bothered by the
struggles he endured physically in this life.  In fact I envisioned him darting ahead
of our little doggy and I on the path.  I could see his smiling face, and hear him
say to me, "Look at me now, look at this, look how high I can fly!"  These images
turned my teary eyes into smiles.

As I thought of my beloved, I also thought of our dear son who was still more of
possibility than a baby when we lost him.  I remembered my dear Papa, my
Mother-in Law, (she was more of my "other" mother than in-law), my brother,
and oh so many more.  It's getting a little too crowded in the spirit world for
my liking.

My poor little doggy who is 13 and has 6 inch long legs finally sat down and refused
to walk anymore.  I picked him up to climb up the last hill and look at the vista
below.  As I turned around and started back down I noticed an extremely dead
tree still firmly standing on the crest of a ridge.  At first I thought, "Why doesn't
someone chop that thing down before it falls and hurts someone."

Then this little verse rushed into my mind, it was probably Nyle, or my Papa sending
me a happy message, they were both terrific writers.

The tree stood bold on the crest of a hill
All signs of life were still
Yet below deep deep down
It's roots lent strength to the trees around

Those we love that have passed into eternity have strong roots that still help to
anchor us in the rough winds of life.  I give thanks everyday for those roots,
for those that as the song says, "I have loved long since and lost awhile."  Only
I HAVEN'T lost them....their roots, their love, their ideas still make life a good
place to be.