Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

May 11, 2006

Today’s announcements

Thank you so very much for caring about others!!!!!!!!
And for your prayers for little Ainsworth!!!!!
My daughter was told this week that he had the most
severe case of autism in his class at school.  She had
always thought maybe he would just catch on later, but
it seems that his language skills are very minimal, at
best.  He lets you know what he wants by pulling you
to where he wants to go, etc.  It is frustrating not to be
able to know where he is hurting, when he is sick.  He
gets frustrated, too.  Please pray for God to "connect
the dots" in his mind for language, etc.  He is totally
precious and adorable and loving!!!!  Just can't seem to
talk.......Frances Harper

Now onto the good stuff!

Today’s Mother’s Day Stories

~**~**~

STORY OF A CHAMPION

For Ethel Clifton

Joan Clifton Costner

There are those who would say this is too personal and too private to share with the world, but I must write it - it is too precious to hoard. If it were up to me to pass out trophies, my mother would be a Champion!

The last night of her life, mother didn’t want me to leave - as with every other night since she had entered the rest home. But I went again with the automatic promise of returning.

The next day at noon, I came to feed her lunch. When I came into the room it was a different look I got from her. She scrutinized me as if in a microscope. Every hair was examined, every pore of my face. In an instant she had it done and I felt it very profoundly. A smile spread across her face and her crystal blue eyes were shining! Any semblance of Alzheimer’s was gone!

"Oh, honey! You look just like my little girl!"

"Well, I hope so, mother, I am your little girl."

She clapped her hands together like a child at first sight of the carnival.

She held them there smiling all the while.

"You are?? Oh, I’m so glad!"

I began getting things ready to feed her, but I felt those eyes and turned to her.

She was as earnest as a lover, looking directly into my eyes. "If you only knew

what you mean to me! I love you!"

"I love you too, mother, and if you love me, you’d better take a little bite.."

She tried. But only about 3 bites and a swallow or two of the chocolate shake

they had brought. She told me she was full, and sick at her stomach. She had

her digestive system upset the day before, but I was expecting it to be better today.

She started to be sick at her stomach and I took a lot of philem from her. The

med. nurse came in with a light nerve medicine.

I walked to the nurses station and told them she was still sick to her stomach and

wondered if they wanted to give her something for a sick stomach.

I walked back to her room and told her I was going to check on my husband who

had just received a pace maker/ de-fibralator placed in his chest 4 days before.

She smiled again. I told her to rest a little so she could eat some supper.

Then I left, came home, fed my husband, and began the errands that had been

delayed because of the surgery. Bills to pay, a few groceries to pick up. I got

home and went to put the water on the yard. I was just connecting a sprinkler to he hose when my recovering husband called from the back door, "The manor wants you to call". It was nearly time to go feed her supper, but I laid down the hose and ran in to telephone.

Then I heard the words that stunned me. She’s gone...no..you don’t mean...

I’ll be right there.

I ran out of the room crying. Straight to the car....She’s gone, she’s gone!....

I never expected to keep her forever, but I had a different idea of how it would be.

My father had died 8 ? years earlier and she had developed Alzheimer’s Disease.

The most cruel enemy of a human mind. She had fallen several times in the last few weeks, but even though her Osteoporosis was measured off the chart, nothing had broken. I had envisioned that was how the end would come, a broken bone, a hospital stay, pneumonia. But this was so sudden! The noon time had been so sweet! If ever I saw blue eyes sparkle, this was the time!

They had the door closed. I pushed it open and entered. She lay on the bed with clear blue eyes looking as if they could still see me. I just ran to her and took her face in my hands. "Oh, you darling mother! You sweet, sweet, mother! You are so precious! I should have come back sooner! I love you! You precious, dear lady!"

I had to cry a little longer. My son arrived. A medical technician, he reached over and very gently closed the blue eyes. I knew I would never see them again on this earth. I just fell to pieces.

Somehow I managed to call my sister. Somehow I called the mortician. Somehow I took care of the myriad of little things that must be done. During all this time, I couldn’t keep from remembering the last hour we had together. What a blessing  she gave me! And I knew too, that I would always see those beautiful eyes. I really couldn’t ever forget them nor the beautiful words...nor the wonderful examination of my face.

I thought of all the times she had been brave in a way I have never had to encounter.

Trying to still be "friendly" like she had been her whole life when all the words

are taken away and you can’t recall the simplest things or the simplest pass times.

Even trying to assist a fallen room mate - forgetting that you can’t stand alone.

Faking it so you cover you disease as if it were disgraceful. What a heroine

you were!

It won’t be long, just over the hill, we’ll have our reunion day. I already know...

What she will say. I already see the sparkle. I really do understand now how

faith in Jesus pays off. When the test is there, He really comes through. I praise Him for the merciful way it happened and for the faith he built up in my heart through the years.

Her room mate told me she had gotten sick to her stomach and so she called for the nurse. Mother was in her wheelchair and when the nurse was delayed, her room mate decided to go find a nurse, but mother followed in her chair, by her own power. When they reached the lobby, she became sick again and the nurse noticed and quickly took her to her room. By the time they got her laid down...

She was gone! That quickly. Before I could be called or drive the 6 blocks...

She was already in Heaven. She was already surrounded by loved ones that

she had been asking for, for years! Those dazzling beautiful blue eyes, were

already beholding the face of our Savior!

My email address:   jody@ptsi.net

http://underhiswings0.tripod.com

Joan Clifton Costner

Mother was 89 ? years old. She died at 4 p.m. July 7, 2003. Her funeral was

held Thursday and to me, it was the most beautiful ever. We laid a beautiful

Child of God to rest who now can remember her Savior’s name!

Mother’s Day Poetry Section

~**~**~

~Dusk ~

with

Beloved Mother

Joan Clifton Costner

She sleeps....and I...sit by,

Unwilling yet, to leave.

For now and then she stirs to see

Me.

The fear goes with the illness.

Anything

Becomes an object she must shun

or hide from.

Waiting for the light to come again

Is endless night.

With all her might

She hopes for some familiar face

Or time ~ or place.

It is easier to leave when I hear the

Rhythmatic breathing begin.

Controlled by involuntary impulses.

Bright, blue eyes will search

Again tomorrow.

They will find

Me.

Will my face still be familiar?

Or will the thief I fear

Steal my memory also?

Reduced to ashes and empty stare

She waits by the door.

Some ask why.

Why do I come each day to see?

Because

I am me. Because I want to see

Traces of the smile I knew

And sweet relief from the misery

Of losing every single precious memory/

The loving ways, the happy days,

When speech was easy

Recollection keen!

...The easy breathing comes ~

Go now ~ Take up Time’s hands

Until...the light comes....

© 2003 by Joan Clifton Costner

http://underhiswings0.tripod.com

My email address:   jody@ptsi.net

My name is Joan Clifton Costner, author of this piece.

~**~**~

Mamma's Hands

Joan Clifton Costner

When I was small, with fevered brow ...
Well, days were different then.
Mamma came, throughout the night,
With medicine to give.

She brought a cloth and washed my face.
Her bedside style was grand.
And, oh, the comfort brought to me,
When Mamma washed my hands!

Throughout my life, I've valued her,
Those ways of peace and love;
Her constant help, unfailing faith
In that One up above.

When I would fear, or fail, or fall
Her words were straight and real.
And when in darkest night I groped,
'Twas Mamma's hand I'd feel.

She taught me, well, to stand beside
The children born to me
And keep my hand within their reach,
What e'er their need might be.

Her steps, these years, are faltering.
Lord, help me, as I stand,
To have a warm, sweet, patient touch,
As I hold Mamma's hand.

Copyright^© Joan Clifton Costner

My email address:   jody@ptsi.net

My name is Joan Clifton Costner, author of this piece.

~**~**~

Senior Writers

Chief writer: Sharon Bryant

                                     Chief researcher/historian: Hartson Dowd

Agee, Vance; Apted, Violet; Baker, Kathy; Batt, Al; Berry, Nell; Blaine, Pamela; Boda, Ginger; Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.; Cavalera, Robyn; Crider, Mark; Deming, Barb; Doherty, Maria; Gilbert, Robert, Jr.; Goodier, Steve; Braun-Haley, Ellie; Harris, Kathy Anne; Hunt, Sharlett; Hymes, Christina; Jacobson, Gary; Kiser, Roger Dean; Kerens, Claudia; Kevin, Tim; Jenkins, Pamela; Liles, Norma; Lily Jodi Flesberg; Lock, Joyce; Marlor, Janice Bumbalough; Mazzella, Joe; Morris, Deepak; Ojeibge, Georgewaters; Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan; Shiveley, Debra; Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Streidel, Saskia; Swarner, Ken; Vaknin, Sam; Verhoeff, Jan; Walker, Bill; Walker, Joe; Warner, Gordon, K; Walsh, Sue; Weymouth, Barbara J.; Whirity, Kathy;

Wainland, David; Westerfer, Clara; White Robert;

Storytime Tapestry Staff

Carol Roach - Founder/publisher

Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder, Moderator

Clara Westerfer – moderator

Bob Johnson - moderator