A New Day

Life seemed to present so many things through these past months that I have been quite overwhelmed. When the time came, I was unsure if I could go on I realized I did not have time to not be able to do and be what was needed right then. There is only today because we never really know what tomorrow will bring.... or if there will be a tomorrow.

When the phone rang a few months back and I heard that my husband had suffered a fall, my heart nearly stopped. I knew he was working on a roof in construction and a fall from that high was serious. What I did not know right then was that he landed on his back on concrete. At first we did not know if he would live at all. I fully understood what difficulties he might face in the future. I managed to share that in a blog I wrote http://linda-nance.blogspot.com/2013/03/danny-novel-and-linda-author.html . As hurt as Albert was, his one request was for me to get the book Danny done. At that time all I could think of was Albert but he did not want to give up on our dream with the books and writing.

We have struggled with him trying his best to recover as much as possible but it has been so difficult for him to realize that so much of the damage is permanent and he is lucky to have lived. He is used to being the one that helps others when they need help and taking care of his family.

My mother has been in poor health for many years but this time we could see that there was little strength left to fight for life. Congestive heart failure, diabetes, and many other problems was only part of the problem. Cancer that had spread was more that she would be able to survive.

Day after day seeing her so helpless yet still fighting to live was heart breaking but seeing my father by her side holding her hand left me without words. When you see a love that has lasted more than 60 years holding fast in the worst times and delightfully living life to the fullest with family and friends in the best days so obvious in that simple moment it left me without words but tears that would not be held back. I still cry but am trying my best to do what my mother would want and find a way to make the best of life for not only myself, Albert, children, and grandchildren, but also to be there for my father.

My father gave me my mother's jewelry box as she had urgently requested and a bag he said was special to her that she had locked with their papers in a safety deposit box. It felt like a bag of beads. I waited until I was alone and looked in the bag to see what kind of beads were so precious to her that she had locked them away and kept special.

Oh what memories did flood my soul. They were beads. They were the beaded necklaces I had made through the years many many years ago.

I remembered as a young child we had gone on vacation and got lost. We got very lost and began to feel fearful not knowing what way to go when we saw a sign that made it clear tourist were not welcome. We had arrived on an Indian reservation but continued and hoped to find directions back to where we were trying to travel. We parked the car and Daddy told us to wait there while he went into the store to ask for help. A very old woman sat on the porch to the store making something. She looked up directly into my eyes and I felt compelled to step out and see what she was doing.

She was weaving the most beautiful necklace I had ever seen. It reminded me of lace. She smiled when I said how beautiful it was and told me I could not buy it but if I never forgot the legend of the necklace she would give me one. She patiently explained......

The Legend of the Necklace

The pathways we travel in our lives take many twists and turns. The necklace is not woven of many strands. It is made of a single strand of many twists and turns. The necklace is not worn hanging down low. It fits about the base of the neck to shield and protect the one who wears it with the tips of each point in the pattern points outward to defend. Any point, when tipped inward, forms a perfect heart. The design is formed to bring luck in love to the one who posses and wears it. We all need love in our lives. From the day we are born until the day that we pass to the next life we need love in many forms. This necklace is a symbol of the wish to protect the heart of the one who wears it that they may always feel loved and love others in return.

She told me that she felt in me a special bond and that I would understand what she was telling me and what was felt. She also told me there would be a time I would choose to make the necklaces and I could do as many as I chose spreading the legend of the beads with it. She smiled and I felt such a connection to her as she continued to explain what she had shared with me was something very special to her and all of her people. If I shared the necklace then be sure to share the meaning of it too.

“From the day we are born until the day we pass on, we all need to feel and be loved. May the legend of the necklace bring luck, love, and keep your spirit safe and protected. May it bring you peace and joy” was what she told me.

It is a perfect circle just as life is a circle with many twists and turns.  It is a circle of life and love in every bead.

This is a picture of me wearing the original one.

This is what I found that was so precious to my mother....the simple beads I had made for her so many years before.

Every hour of every day, we did not know if that would be the last time we would have mother with us. When the time arrived …..I will not describe it because it was not an easy passing. It was filled with suffering, pain and her wanting a little longer in this world. My father bravely stood by her side every moment.

I felt a crushing pain in my chest and could not breathe. The moment was so intense I was sure it must be anxiety and stress. I could not be sick. My father and others needed me to be able to handle things. We thought we had the arrangements complete but there was a misunderstanding and when the time came we found out we would be unable to bury my mother.

My father was devastated and I worried I might loose him too. We would have to find a way to raise the money or they would not bury mother. Albert is unable to work and I have been unable to work for many years. We had no way to come up with money. Daddy sat with his head in his hands and softly said, “They won't give your momma back. What are we going to do?”

When he did not see me and sometimes when he did, the tears would not stop. I felt frantic. When times are the darkest if we hold on and do not give up we can find a way. I shared this on the internet and received some donations but so many heartfelt prayers and well wishes that it warmed my heart. I did not know how we would survive this time but no longer felt so alone.

The church worked with me as I arranged a memorial service. Some of my fathers family had driven many miles to be here with him and this would be a special time for not only my mother but also him. Mom was an only child who had 2 children and 2 grandchildren and 2 great grandchildren. We are not a large family. The church and the people in it were so wonderful preparing us a beautiful meal as well as the service. You felt the warmth of their love and comfort of their care.

We were eventually able to borrow the money. We still have to find a way to survive in many ways but will work one day at a time. I can take a simple breath now and look back to those moments and try to see more than the pain. We had a visitation and service at the graveside. It had been rainy and dreary weather and here in Arkansas it is also hot. The clouds offered a small measure of cooling shade as the rain stopped. We had no idea if it would end or brew up a summer storm. We gathered there in our small little group under the shade of the tent and clouds above for this sad parting to say our last good byes. The service that was done was beautiful and they did all that they could to make it special and as we would want it. At one point the tears were more than I could contain and that feeling in the chest had returned. The last thing I needed to do was have a heart attack right then. I glanced out across the rolling hills and as Amazing Grace started to play the sun shone through the clouds lighting the day in dazzling light. It was so perfectly on cue with the mood and the music it was almost like a sign. I was not the only one to notice. Most of us there, looked out at the beautiful scene before us.

With the sunshine came the sweltering heat and humidity. I drew in a deep breath feeling the strain and the clouds swiftly closed blocking the sun and a gently cool breeze drifted across us. It may be coincidence, but I felt a peace in my heart. I closed my eyes and said good bye to my Momma. I wore the necklace I had made for her so many years ago.

It seems as though life can become a nightmare and if we look at all of the problems that seem to have no answers we miss out on so many little things all around us.

I have had many sleepless nights. As morning neared I wondered if it was still so hot outside so I stepped out on the back deck. I looked over and saw an amazing glow in the trees of bright red. Morning sunrise is normally pastel colors that swiftly turn into the new day and this was blood red.

 Since there are miles of trees around us the thought that red could be something like fire brought a brief feeling of panic as I looked closer realizing it really was the dawn of a new day.

It happened so quickly I would never have caught it if I had not had my phone with me. I take it with me when ever I go outside in case I fall or have a problem and need help.

As quickly as I could take one picture and then another the color changed and the day was before me. It was so very beautiful and I again felt a moment of peace.

S.H.E. Anthology... Something Special Filled With Heart

We can think of many book by many authors on many subjects, but what I have to share with you today, is something I think is special and filled with heart. Things are told that are born of pain and blossom into hope and healing in the S.H.E. Anthology. This is a book of many authors each telling their many stories. This is a book involving a subject of grief and healing, hope and survival, children and their hearts filled with fear and pain who go beyond that and grow sharing it with others offering empowerment and hope.

A majority the proceeds from the sale of this anthology will go to mental health institutions that address grief factors especially in children- our next generations of hope! Written by those who know first hand the pain of grief reaching out to others with their words. My blog is titled More Than Just A Story In A Book but this collection truly is more than just the stories in the book. This book is a story from the heart.

 

SPECIAL NOTE to the reader:

Each blog about the S.H.E. Anthology has a unique excerpt to keep things fresh.

A book without a reader is like a day without sunshine.

Newton, Connecticut? Where is that? A massacre? Please, tell me you’re joking! At school? You have got to be kidding! Dumbfounded! I listened to the news about Sandy Hook Elementary! Who didn’t feel disheartened by that story?

Due to my experiences with many deaths in our small community within a short period of time, I felt that the kids and folks in that area might feel less alienated and alone if they were shown the light at the end of their tunnels. I wanted to help find a way to be empower the children and their community while revealing to them a HOPE that things can and do get better. I thought that town might enjoy rhetoric from kindred spirits. PLUS, I felt others including health care professionals might enjoy the same types of stories.

After pondering a bit, God illuminated my next step. Thinking of three books that I had partial copyrights to, I began compiling a book. Plus, I immediately had the title of an anthology in my mind- the S.H.E. Anthology. It’s NOT a romance anthology but it was written by females. In this book, the girls recollected traumas, mostly related to death, that they faced while in elementary school. Their stories reveal their path out of mourning along with many minor miracles that they encountered. Their tales of hope and inspiration are true accounts from those children turned authors. This book is meant to empower Newton as well as others that read it. The authors hope that this anthology sheds some new light on grief recovery in the minds of teachers, mental health professionals, and adults handling major life changes.

The abbreviation ‘S.H.E’ also refers to Sandy Hook Elementary. Isn’t God the best at setting up coincidences?

In one part of this anthology, there is some great insight into being the victim of death and childhood loss. Stacey’s Song is an intimate look at a ten year old girl’s personal story about the results of her mother’s cancer death. She, also, deals with the aftermath that includes her dad going crazy and committing suicide. Obviously, tragedies, such as the Sandy Hook Massacre, touch home with her. Stacey talks candidly about overcoming her PTSD. Her honesty in her writing is only surpassed by the miracles and guidance from God.

In the excerpt that follows, God taps into the young girl’s anger and pent-up grief. In the book, near the end of her teen years, an unexpected person brings closure to Stacey’s mourning. She meets the man that tried to save her father from his suicide mission, which turns out to be another blessing from GOD.

…while at work, I met a man, a police officer. His name is John. As we discussed orphans and life’s ups and downs, I discovered he raised and orphan, too. That is not what caught my attention. We actually shared a different bond.

“How long have you been a cop?” I chimed into the ongoing conversation at work.

“About twelve years!”

“Oh, then you would not know!” I spoke thoughts.

“Know what?” He prodded.

“About my dad!” I added.

“What happened to your dad?”

“He committed suicide in 1991.”

“Oh?” My coworkers and he questioned rhetorically.

“Yeah, put the car on fire and died!” I finally spoke it aloud.

“Where?” The policeman showed interest.

“In this town!” I answered.

“When?” He pursued. “I used to be a fireman!”

“In 1991?” I questioned.

After a strange pause, he calmly stated, “I pulled his body from the car that night, then.”

My mind wandered around my first playground. The rope swing rested motionless because my soul decided to ignore its pleas to escape my current life, this time. My dungeons and their caretakers evaded my sight as well, which revealed my level of maturity and growth. Then, somewhere in the distance, fire engine sounds rang out. As a child, I’d run to grab the candy thrown from this Christmas decorated truck. That vehicle arrived, once a year; and I loved its sound. After dad died in the fire, his suicide method, I avoided all firemen, trucks, toys, and thoughts. Nothing convinced me that there existed any goodness in anything associated with fire. Today, life revolved full circle once again because this policeman witnessed it all. It never jaded him. At that moment, I thought about my mother’s last smile as Santa approached her window. The present is definitely the gift.

I called Cindy immediately with my news. She wasn’t as surprised as me. Nothing sent from God surprised her anymore not even my chance to share my feeling about Dad’s death with another participant from 1991. It’s cathartic!

Is Stacey’s Son a mournful tune or an upbeat journey out of mourning? Read her full story in Stacey’s Song or in the S.H.E. Anthology.

Also, in that anthology, The Evans Terrace Girls give their account of what happened when 7 or more parents died within a year or 2 of each other in a small subdivision of about 110 homes. People started saying their land was CURSED. The children heard those rumors about their subdivision and were scared to death. Some of the children formed a group that became a club and led their neighborhood out of grief. An excerpt from their story follows.

This next excerpt from The Evans Terrace Girls shows how good intentions encourage most people to noble acts that spawn random acts of kindness.

     As the first members arrived at my house to be car pooled to the
  
 shopping plaza, my mother pulled out the flyers as well as a poster.

 Secretly, she made us a poster with huge black and blue letters stating,

 “FREE POOL.” In smaller letters she wrote “safety flyers.” Her

 homemade concoction was hilarious but potentially embarrassing. At

 first, we expressed reservations about her artwork.
 

      “This will get their attention!” She explained. “Who will pass up a 

free pool?” My mother was serious about it being a useful tool to

 attract people away from the video store long enough to offer them

 the rest of the message or safety pamphlet.

    “Don’t laugh,” Joy defended. “She is right! I’d stop for a free pool!”
 

The morning proved to be slow. Mia, Ann, and I sat on the sidewalk

 discouraged. Suddenly, Mia began to sing her boredom away. “Drown

 do be do drown drown,” She sang to the melody of a real song.

      “Come on. Come on. Drown do be do drown drown.” Ann and I

 hummed along at first, “Come on. Come on. Drown do be do drown

 drown. Waking up will be hard to do....” 
  

      After that song, we made up other lyrics to popular melodies, “Um
 
 bop, don’t drop, into your pool, stop...in an um drop their gone...” and

 so on. Making up the best new words became a competition as

 crowds from church finally started arriving for their brunch. 
 

At that point, we begged people to take our flyers. Some people

 humored us but then left the flyers of their tables as part of the

 waitress’s tip. Others avoided eye contact as we presented out

 pamphlets. One man got down right mean. After a conversation

 begging him to take the paper, he said, “I work for a charity and can

 get anything I need. So, I don’t need your flyer. No, thank-you.”

     As he left, my mother muttered, “You may head a charity but you

 have no kindness in your heart.” We heard her but he was too busy

 wearing his lopsided halo to turn back.

   Cars started arriving in the parking lot, which also serviced a grocery

 chain. We held our poster high and tempted cars to come to

 screeching stops as people read the words free pool. This prank did

 attract attention. Some crowds did gather until they read the rest of 

the poster. In the end, we handed out fifty flyers on our shift. Then, Joy

 and Nicole arrived to relieve us.

     Joy tempted fate by standing as close to the video store as legal. She

 harassed people until they came closer to hear what her poster was

 offering. Nicole asked how we did; she decided her group’s goal was

 to meet or match our number. It was about that time that two people

came by to offer us money towards our cause. Since our flyers were

 free, we declined the money.

    As we stood hassling people, a manager from the grocery walked

 right up to mom. We thought this meant that she was being scolded.

 Watching for a minute, we noticed my mother was laughing. As he

 left, we found out why this man went out of his way to leave his post

 and greet our adult leader
.

    “The store offered us free cookies. All we have to do is tell them

 that manager sent us,” My mother explained. 

 

“Go get them now,” I yelped.

“We are hungry,” Joy added.

What other minor miracles happened (free cookies) when these girls join forces with others to make good things happen in this world? Read The Evans Terrace Girls or their section in the S.H.E. Anthology.

The eBook copy of the S.H.E Anthology is available

as a KINDLE @

http://www.amazon.com/the-S-H-E-Anthology-ebook/dp/B00B6C4NQ8/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1361303178&sr=8-2&keywords=the+S.H.E.+Anthology

in other eBook formats @ SMASHWORDS.com @ http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/278511

The paperback version comes in BLACK & WHITE on AMAZON @

http://www.amazon.com/S-H-E-Anthology--In-Black-White/dp/1482076225/ref=sr_1_19?ie=UTF8&qid=1359383172&sr=8-19&keywords=mchanson714

Plus, the S.H.E Anthology is in color paperback format @

http://www.amazon.com/S-H-E-Anthology-Cynthia-Meyers-Hanson/dp/1481987100/ref=sr_1_18?ie=UTF8&qid=1359382582&sr=8-18&keywords=mchanson714

So, come on buy to be inspired and help grieving children. It’s a WIN-WIN.

By the Way, a copy of this anthology went to Newton’s public library as well.

Other contact information follows.

E-MAIL @ mchanson714@yahoo.com

TWITTER @ www.twitter.com/mchanson714

FB @ www.facebook.com/meyershanson

My generic Blog is @ http://mchanson714.blogspot.com

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http://www.smashwords.com/books/search?query=mchanson714;

This is the AMAZON generic link to all my Kindles and paperbacks

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=mchanson714

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A LETTER TO HEAVEN

 Dec 23, 2013      Update.... It has been two years since we lost this precious child.  She is still with us in heart.  We lost her momma, we lost her, we lost my mother this summer and so many others, but still we smile with the memories of the joy they brought to all around them.


Mackenzie Beary, 11, of Finch Community died Friday, December 23 at her residence. She was born July 2, 2000 in Jonesboro to David and Teresa Beary. She was a 6th grader at Brookland Middle School and was a member of Central Baptist Church where she was involved with AWANA. She also enjoyed playing volleyball for the NEA Junior Olympics and snow skiing.


 When there is a young person like this who never gave up and reached out in the lives of so many she will live forever in my heart.  Diabetes is something that is not easy and this life was too short but she truly lived her life.


This is not the usual blog, but my blog is my voice to share so many things.  This is so much on my heart that I want to share it.  I wish that I could take this letter and place it in the hands of the little girl I wrote it for.  I wish that I could hold her and hug her and tell her we love her.  I said that I would write real and from the heart here and you can not get much more real than this. 

Right before Christmas we lost our niece in a tragic accident.  She left behind her two teenage sons and three small children.  She left behind a husband that loved her more than words could tell.  She left behind so many of us who will always keep her in our hearts.  We miss her so.  Teresa Beary will be missed by many.

Christmas was almost here again.  On Dec23 her little daughter died of a sudden illness.  Today is her visitation and tomorrow her funeral.  You can not imagine what a blessing she has been to all of us who knew her.  She …..Oh,…. how we will miss her.  I can not hold her, or hug her, or talk about her hopes and dreams.  So I write her a letter and I will share it here.

Dear Mackenzie,

            I had to write and tell you things that fill my heart.  I am so proud to say how special you are in so very many ways.

            Your years may be young but your insights and wisdom were so profound as you loved all around you.  Your ability to reach out to others caring, sharing, and inspiring was an example for others to aspire to achieve.

            Your physical beauty was breath taking with a smile that lights the room.  Your eyes sparkled and were filled with life and cheer.

            Your determination and confidence were impressive.  You did more than talk about someday you would be or do.  You did and lived and everyday touched the lives of all who knew you.

            Your courage and strength were exemplary as was your compassion for others.

            Your faith and conviction were pure and from the heart.  You did more than speak your beliefs, you lived your faith.  Such an example we might hope to achieve as we work and grow all of the years of our lives.  You were all of these things and more.

            There is no street address in heaven to send this so I’ll send it in a prayer.

            Are there angels that walk among us? This day I know for sure.  God gave us an angel and now he called you home.

            You live forever in our hearts. 

They have set up a fund for donations to help at the Liberty Bank in Jonesboro, Ar. for MacKenzie Beary.

LOVE LIVES IN THE HEART

There are so many things I have wanted to write about and have been excited about but there is only one thing that stands out and fills me with emotion today.  Last night it filled me with tears.  Not long ago I asked for help naming our new little puppy.  We chose PeeWee and he has been such a joy.  He was filled with so much life and radiated love.  He would run a play with my little grandson.  They were best of friends.  Every day when everyone went off to work or school, the little bundle of love was my buddy.  As the months passed he grew.  His legs were long and he could jump and romp and was filled with life and enthusiasm.  He would stand on his hind legs so he could lay his head in my lap looking up with eyes that radiated love and emotion without the need for words from this little animal to this lonely old woman.   He was a little guy with a big heart.

Yesterday just before dark I was out back starting the grill.  My grandson had just come in with his little friend who lives next door playing in his room.  My daughter appeared at the back door telling me to keep the kids here.  She had eyes filled with tears.  PeeWee had escaped and gone out onto the highway.  He had been hit by a truck.  It was bad.  I will not go into details.

When I came in the house I could not hold back the tears and when the phone rang with her saying she needed help from Albert because it was so bad and he was suffering…..I had already called Albert and he was on his way home.  She called back to say it was over.  He was gone.  I felt such loss I could not hold back the tears.  My dog had not died…my friend and companion had died.  My little buddy was gone.  There have been some difficult times in life and he always had a nuzzle, wag of the tail and a way to make me smile.  He was gone.  He is gone.

I could not hold back the tears and felt as if I could not breathe.  I felt a small hand on my shoulder and a voice near my face.  “Mamaw…Mamaw…what’s wrong.  Tell me what’s wrong.  It’s ok…Tell me.”

There before me stood two little boys who had romped and played with the little dog and loved him just as much as I had.  They had held him as a small puppy and ran with him everyday.  They had a right to know but did not need to see.  I told them PeeWee had gone out onto the road and was hit by a truck.

The shock flashed across the two little faces and they were ready to run to the little dog.  I stopped them saying it was too late to help him and they had to stay there with me.  I explained that Zander’s mom and all of the neighbors were there with him and taking care of things.

The look on the faces swiftly changed from shock to heartbreaking grief as what I had said became real.  “I love PeeWee so much, Mamaw.”  He could say no more as tears flowed down his little face.  His friend’s face crumpled into tears beside him as he added that he too loved the little dog.

I reached out before me and hugged a little boy in each arm as we cried to gather.  Today is still a sad day as we have talked and cried some more but we are trying to remember the good times shared and the love this little animal brought to our lives.

PeeWee and the little boy were best friends.  They were play mates.  They were more than a boy and a dog.  Little Zander squared his shoulders and said he wanted to write as note for PeeWee.  He wanted to do it himself.

As his Mom and Grandpa got things ready to lay the little dog to rest wrapped in one of Zanders baby blankets, Zander wrote his own note saying how much he loved PeeWee.  He then very seriously signed his name.

I could not hike that far outside without the oxygen and my small tank was out but my husband told me with deep emotion causing his voice to crack.  They gathered around and little Zander wanted to hold the flashlight so his Papaw could dig the hole.  He then solemnly read what he had written saying good bye to PeeWee and they placed his letter in the blanket.

I have a question…Is it silly to feel such loss and grief over a dog?  To us he was more than a dog.  To me he was my little friend.  The love shared will live in the heart.  I told my grandson that love never dies.  Real love lives in the heart.

A handful of love

You could see the love shared

Little PeeWee was in the hearts of the whole family

He had his own little bed but could find some strange ways to sleep here and there too

He was even friends and played with the cats.  They had adopted him.

It took a lot of kitty patience for his puppy playing but they were family

PeeWee was not to be left out where there were fun times or play times.  If you look behind the boy and his grandpa you see PeeWee waiting for his treat too.

LOVE LIVES IN THE HEART