"O death where is thy sting?"

Mom loved Handel's Messiah. I don't know when or where she would have been first introduced to this beautiful classical piece of music. She had attended Messiah College when it still offered high school courses many years ago and I can't help but wonder if it was there that she began to appreciate "The Messiah". Having been left some money following her mother's death, she purchased a stereo and then a record of "The Messiah" when I was of age 9 or 10. My first response to hearing Mom's special music, was to intensely dislike it for reasons I'm not entirely sure of. However, eventually I developed a love for it. I love the beauty of the music and the power of the words which have been derived straight from the Scriptures. I have been fascinated by the story of how quickly it was composed by Handel in just 24 days. I have developed the tradition of listening to it every year on Christmas Eve day, which is usually a day set aside for baking mincemeat tarts, tourtiere and other delicacies of the season.

When Mom's health had eventually declined to the point where it was obvious that there would be no return, it seemed only fitting to have "The Messiah" playing close to her bedside. And so it was. Over the hours preceding her death, as her life was slowly but surely ebbing away, the beloved sweet familiar strains of "The Messiah" were softly playing. Her laboured breathing finally came to rest, and the music continued on.

"O death, where is thy sting? O grave where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."
1Corinthians 15:55-56

"...finished the course..."

Many years ago when I was a teenager, Mom went away to Western University in London, Ontario to take a course related to her beloved nursing profession. She spent a week or so there, did her studies, then "finished her course."

On June 16, 2008 it could be said again that Mom "finished her course". This time it was a course that was the most difficult one of her life. Over the past 10 years or perhaps longer, her health began to deteriorate. The diagnosis of Progressive Supranuclear Palsy was given and she began a life with many new challenges. Having lost her balance and subsequent to many falls and resulting injuries, she became confined to a wheelchair. Her ability to see was affected due to limitations to the movements of her eyes. Her throat muscles became weaker and weaker causing gradual loss of her ability to speak and swallow. She spent her last 2 1/2 years in Gardenview Long Term Facility where she was lovingly cared for by the staff there. I was able to monitor her condition closely as I am the regular night charge nurse and to advocate for her when the need arose. My Dad, Merlin, lived in an adjacent apartment in the same facility and faithfully spent time with her 2-3 times each day.

But now she has "finished her course". She graduated, she was promoted to a Higher Place, to the place she had been preparing to go to for her whole life - to Heaven to be with her Lord and Saviour and many loved ones who have gone on before.

Beautiful Day in the Garden

Today was designated to be our flower-planting day. We had some purple petunias bordered with a tiny white strip, some fuschia-coloured wave petunias, some fuschia and white impatience and some tall orange marigolds to get planted. I also planted a deep pink azalea bush, two new red rose bushes which we had received as gifts upon the passing of Tom's mother, and a red peony which I had bought as a remembrance of my mother and my childhood home in Springvale. We were thankful that Ali and Aaron were both able to come to help. Tom is not feeling well these days, as he's had some new health issues emerge, so rather than do the planting, he directed the operation. The place looks beautiful. Having had so much rain and cool weather this spring, the lawn is verdant and the perennials are growing nicely. The soil is soft and easy to work in, and the sweet, delicate fragrance of the white phlox which Alicia gave me a few years ago, permeates the garden. What a wonderful day, planting in the garden!

The way home

I took a detour this morning on my way home from work, passing through Mt Olivet. I was looking for a lilac picture - as this area is famous for it's lilacs. However, this scene caught my eye instead.

Mother's Day

Once upon a time there was a very sad, childless woman who was so sad that she decided she could never go to church again on Mother's Day. Like Hannah of old, she prayed and prayed that God would grant the desire of her heart, that is that she could become a mother. God, is His wonderful love, and great sense of humour, answered her prayers...x4...within 4 years.

Thank-you Lord, for my wonderful, beautiful daughters.

Springtime....

While visitng my neighbour on May 12, this tree caught my eye. Spring has been cool this year, with lots of rain. The beauty of pinks and yellows against the background of lush green grass is a lovely sight after our long cold winter.

Sometimes it seems that life is just one continual funeral....

MOTHER'S DAY- After spending a wonderful day with many of our immediate family, (actually 25 us got together), Tom, Lucille and I returned home to relax a bit from our marathon of cooking 60 or so cabbage rolls, a triple recipe of lasagne, and the special chocolate birthday cake. About 1/2 hour later, a call came from Ohio. It was our sister in law, Janice, with some news. Tom's mother, Grandma Harper, 93 years of age, had quickly taken ill and passed on to the gloryland.
After plans were finalized with the need to be sure that all the children could be present (they were coming from Arizona, Florida, South Carolina, Ontario, as well as Ohio), we headed to the Massillon, Ohio area to await Thursday, the day of the funeral. This, despite the fact that as last minute plans had developed on Saturday, our cousin Sherrilin Heise from San Diego, California, only daughter of Mom's only brother, the late Clarence Heise, was visiting in our home. It was arranged that Lucille, visiting as well from Montreal, would take over the hostessing and the two of them would be just fine staying in our home when we left.
The funeral was a sweet and fitting tribute to the life of one loved so dearly by her family.
As we were finishing up her funeral, I made the comment "Sometimes it seems like life is just one continual funeral." We have had one funeral after another in our immediate family over the past few months (Alicia's daughter, Orie, Uncle Bob Solon, Grandma Heise, John Lambert, and now Grandma Harper), and then there have been ones outside the family circle as well. I guess as long as we live, there will people around us who come to the finish line, their race completed. Some have a shorter race ordained for them than others. Pain, separation, and grief are all part of the experience of our lives here on earth. Together as a family, we are managing to walk steadily along through these difficult times. I am so thankful for God's comfort and strength in these times. I am also very thankful for the strength that comes from being a part of such a wonderfully close-knit and supportive family.

Visit with Dr. Finkelstein

Yesterday Tom had another visit with his cardiologist, Dr Lorne Finkelstein, in Hamilton. Each visit is a pleasure, and the doctor is always entertaining, in his own unique way. A month ago, Tom described his condition to be "lousy". However after a few medication changes, he's now feeling much better, and both Tom and the Doctor are pleased.

Delightful Lunch

Wanda and Jeff visited us for a few days this week. Wanda lost her husband, Bob, in November. Yesteday, we had lunch in Hamilton at Rumak's, a polish retaurant, a favourite of Adrienne's. As you can see, Wanda, Jeff, Tom, Adrienne and her friend, Lisa, and myself, thoroughly enjoyed our time together!

37th Wedding Anniversary!

We were blessed to enjoy yet another Wedding Anniversary, our 37th! Yes, it was April 10, 1971 that Tom and I began our lives together. The traditional wedding vows were spoken....

"I, Connie, take you Tom, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do us part."

As a 20-year old, I had no idea what life was going to hold in my new life of being married to Tom, no idea how good life could be, nor how difficult life's challenges could be at other times. However, God has faithfully been with us each step of the way. I am so thankful that I have had such a wonderful loving partner to share my life with. Truly I have been blest!

Influences of Family and Church

Mine was an idyllic life, growing up in the fifties in the little hamlet of Springvale, Ontario. I grew up in an old, spacious, yellow board and batten house graced by a large verandah with gingerbread trim, which had been purchased from Dad’s cousin, Clarabelle McCombs Teal. I was the 2nd child and daughter of Merlin and Naomi Heise Marr and was born with an inherent ability to view the world through rose-coloured glasses, usually seeing the glass half full, rather than half empty, and thus my story unfolds.
My world was uncomplicated. Family and church were the greatest influences that I dealt with in the first decade of my life. The 2 room school house was at the corner, just yards down the road, across from the general store.
My friends were my sisters, Lucille and Phyllis, and Marjorie Hall, the only other young girl who attended our church. We spent many hours playing with our little brother, Ronnie. The Brethren in Christ Church we attended was less than a quarter mile from our home. Having been born in 1950, our denomination was already in the flux of gradual change, which began after the NAE convention in Indianapolis in 1950 where the church fathers had made some decisions, which were about to relax much of the legalism which had marked the church.
Growing up in our home, our Brethren in Christ roots were undisputed, for my father, Merlin, came from Sider, Mater, and Marr roots, with the Sider roots being traced to my great, great grandparents, Christian and Barbara Sider, founders of the Wainfleet Brethren in Christ Church. The Marr family was grafted into the church when his Dad, Wm Marr, was saved at a revival service. My mother was a decendant of the Davidsons, and the Brechbill clan in Indiana, with several well-respected Brethren in Christ pioneers in her family tree as well. Henry Davidson, first editor of “The Evangelical Visitor”, our church periodical, had been her great grandfather, and his daughter H. Frances Davidson, who along with several others, founded the Brethren in Christ Mission work in Africa at the turn of the 20th century, was her great aunt. Mom’s parents, Clarence and Ruth Brechbill Heise, had been missionaries in India, where she was born in 1921. It was clear to me, who I was and where I belonged.
Church played a dominant role in the life of our family. My parents were committed and loyal members of the well-established Springvale Brethren in Christ Church. It had been the original site of Ontario Bible School, established in 1932, the church institution that is now known as Niagara Christian Community of Schools, and is located along the boulevard near Fort Erie, Ontario. I attended this church from the time of my birth, at that time still under the leadership of church father, John Nigh. He died tragically in the fall of 1951 and his son Paul, who had been sharing the responsibility with his father, took over and was my pastor throughout the rest of the years I attended. He was a kindly man, and encouraged me personally as a child, about to be baptized, by telling me he had noticed that I “listened, really listened” during the services. I enjoyed our church. Paul Nigh was easy to listen to. I don’t recall sermons on complicated theological themes. He was punctual with closing his sermons. We as a family attended on a weekly basis, the Sunday morning and evening services as well as the Tuesday night prayer meeting, where we’d turn and kneel in our pew for a “season of prayer”. So loyal were my folks to the prayer meeting, that on one occasion when our public school was participating in the rare event of a music festival, when it was determined that is would be on a Tuesday night, the answer was clear. We would attend prayer meeting instead! We also attended several nights of any series of Revival services, conducted in the spring and fall in our church, by popular evangelists of the day such as Henry Ginder, JN Hosteter, Luke Keefer, Bishop Charlie Byers and Bishop EJ Swalm. These preachers were usually quite understandable in their approach to salvation, sanctification and the predicted end times, which was almost always preached upon on the last night of the campaign. By times, however, we did hear other evangelists, although not at our church, who spoke of the evils of open-toed shoes, decorative clothing and an impending communist takeover. Despite frightening dreams on at least one occasion, of communism in our town, I managed to keep a positive perspective and didn’t spend an abundance of time and energy mulling over these things. After one particularly stirring message, I recall mother coming over to our bedroom to offer reassurance despite the disturbing content of the evening message. Over the years as my understanding increased, I would often step out and go down to the altar at the time of invitation to surrender my life once again to the Lord. I had already given my heart to the Lord at a very young age, of which I did not remember, but had been told, and never doubted.
Sunday School teachers such as Norma Nigh and Alvin Hall faithfully taught me as a child, imparting within me the Biblical truths I still hold dear. Later, as a teenager, I also had opportunity to teach in the Sunday School.
During these years the rendering of the "holy kiss" was still in practice and to young watching eyes, seemed perfectly in order.
Temperance Sunday was observed on a regular basis, with an emphasis on the evils of tobacco and alcohol being addressed in our Sunday School classes.
During these years, the church was a small group of several dedicated families who served and gave financially to keep the work afloat. I don’t recall any new family or individual joining the church nor do I recall any individuals leaving. It remained the same.
Along with the spiritual foundations that were being laid, our social life was being cultivated. As an extrovert, I enjoyed the times of Love Feast with the predictable menu and aroma of wieners, red jello with fruit cocktail, Nettie Teal’s wonderful potato salad, and homemade pies, accompanied by the smell of freshly brewed coffee. The foot washing ceremony with the slight odor of feet and with the deacon’s wife guarding the end of the pew with a large towel and passing the large aluminum pail along, was usually part of the day as well. Then there was opportunity to partake in the communion service. The elements were always the same – our deacon’s wife, Marion Hall making her special recipe of buttery, tender strips of communion bread with the fork prick trademark, along with the grape juice. As children we always harboured the unholy desire to hope that there would be plenty of the delicious bread left over, so that we could have some to eat as a snack after the service.
I particularly enjoyed this, and any event, when folks from neighboring Cheapside or other churches would join with us. Our family received hospitality from other families in the church. We loved visiting and playing with the Hall family and watching TV when we visited Orland and Nettie Teal. These folks were like family to us.
After years of listening to four-part harmony only during the singing of hymns, the church acquired an organ in the early ‘60’s. Having taken piano lessons for a number of years, I had the opportunity to play at church, being that we didn’t have a line up of musicians in our congregation. On one occasion, I was asked to play for a wedding. The couple were not too particular, and I was told one song only, would be needed for a short prelude. However, the wedding got started very much later than anticipated, and I had no choice but to play “O perfect Love” over and over again until the wedding party arrived and were ready to start.
Our church was involved in outreach. Each Sunday my father and others would drive out to the Indian Reserve and pick up children and some adults to bring to our Sunday School. Annually, during the hot, humid month of July, the church held a Vacation Bible School in the local Springvale Hall to which many children from the neighboring concessions, were brought in cars and even in the open back of a pick-up truck. Bible teaching, singing, memorizing Scripture, and making crafts were enjoyed at our VBS. A crowd of excited children would march in to the musty hall lustily singing “Onward Christian Soldiers” with the staunch members of our peace-loving BIC Church barely taking notice of the irony. Later, I was given an opportunity to serve in the Bible School in my teen years.
Many missionaries visited our church telling of adventures of faraway India and Africa. I was always particularly interested in the medical stories, and the sometimes graphic pictures. I believe that along with my mother’s encouragement, as she was a Registered Nurse, that these tales influenced me into my own Registered Nurse profession.
When I was a teen, I enjoyed our annual Watch-Night services on New Year’s Eve. I’d often pick out some new clothing received at Christmas to wear to this most enjoyable event. Guests would be invited to sing from local and far-away congregations, even un-Brethren in Christ Churches. We’d often have the Martins from Ohio join us. Our leadership was open-minded, for we were aware that even folks “who smoked” were allowed to sing at this event in our church. A particular high light was awaiting the mounds of honey-dipped donuts that would usually be there for the snack afterwards.
My parents exposed us to the larger Church, as we often attended Camp Meeting at the NCC site, and were able to go to General Conference which was held at different locations such as Messiah College in Pennsylvania and West Milton in Ohio. I was able to participate in the Canadian Quiz Team on a couple occasions. Being privileged to attend NCC through my high school years also contributed to my spiritual formation. It was there that I met a wonderful young man, Tom Harper, from the Amherst congregation in Massillon, Ohio, who was doing his 2 years of volunteer service and whom I later married.
I remember our home usually being a place of peace and harmony. My parents loved each other very much and we children knew that we were loved as well. My parents practiced hospitality. We often had guests invited for roast beef dinner, with homemade pie, getting out the good dishes, and making sure the table was set just right.
We often invited friends to our home after evening services for delightful snacks of sandwiches, date bread and the like, where with mother’s instruction, I learned how to serve, using the good china teacups, with some finesse.
We knew that being raised in our church, we were a “separate people”. At the local field day events, it was hard being different, not being allowed to wear shorts as did the other girls. We were not allowed to play organized softball with the other neighborhood girls or attend the occasional Valentine’s dance at school. Activities thought to be appropriate, however, were encouraged. I attended the young girls’ group, “Explorers”, at the neighboring United Church as well as the local 4-H clubs in the area. I must admit, I always found it distressing when folks at some of these activities outside the church, referred to our church as the “Tunker Church” which was actually the name by which our denomination had been known in previous generations. I just didn’t like the sound of that name!
After being united as members in the church and baptized at a young age, the covering was adorned and we would walk to prayer meeting on summer evenings through the little town of Springvale carrying our Bibles and wearing our coverings.
I remember well, that in 1962 our church ran a campaign called “Read It through in ’62”.
My Dad and I at age 12, picked up the challenge and read the Bible through that year. I was later told that my paternal grandmother had read the Bible through 40 times in her lifetime.
We witnessed parental involvement in Church with Dad being involved on various church boards, teaching Sunday School and being church treasurer. I have many memories of him counting the offering at the kitchen table as we Sunday dinner was being prepared. Mom served as Nurse at church functions. Both Dad and Mom were involved in the early work of the church camp efforts both at Fraser Lake Camp and Camp Kahquah taking us with them from our earliest recollections.
They made an effort to comfort the bereaved by visiting funeral homes and attending funerals. They didn’t believe in shielding their children from the reality of death. I remember when one of the very young Sunday School boys drowned, that we as children were taken to the viewing, fascinated by what we saw.
My parents often visited other Brethren in Christ Churches for various reasons. Oft times, we visited Cheapside for their special services, and others for funerals. When visiting the relatives at Wainfleet, we’d often visit the church as well. It was much larger and I was fascinated seeing the men and women sitting on opposite sides of the church. In later years, I particularly enjoyed hearing James Gilmore play the organ, and the music of the Wainfleet Gospel Four.
My love of music was fostered from my earliest recollections. For sitting on my parent’s knees in church as in infant, I heard the clear bass of my father and the sure alto of my mother’ voice. Both my paternal and maternal grandmothers played piano. My mother was able to purchase a stereo with a record player in 1959 and promptly bought “The Messiah” which she played frequently. In later years, there were other styles of gospel music in our home. Mother joined the Niagara Choral Society at one time, and we as family went to hear the rendition of classical and sacred music presented. For several years Dad, Mom, Norma Nigh and Orland Teal sang in a quartet.
Indeed it is true that there has been a great influence on my life resulting from being raised in my Brethren in Christ family and attending the Springvale Church during my childhood and teen years.
I learned loyalty, commitment, and steadfastness by watching the example of my parents' life in the church. I have learned to love the church, the home church as well as the church at large. I had sound teaching about the privilege of tithing and financial principals. The importance of prayer has been foundational in my adult life. I now read the Bible through yearly, as do other siblings of mine. Comforting the bereaved is a duty and privilege that I hold to. Music is near and dear to my heart and soul. I have played piano and organ in church, enjoy singing alto in congregational singing, love to listen to the Messiah, as well as other gospel and classical music.
The interest and the influences of the people in our small church were nourishing to me as a young girl. I was encouraged to begin to use the talents that God had given to me. Parental example has spoken louder than words could ever have spoken.
Most importantly, it was these influences that have begun a lifelong quest to know Christ ever more deeply and to love Him with my whole being.
Surely I can say with the Psalmist:“The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.”Ps 16:6

Sad and Happy

Lily of the Valley

I love Lily of the Valley with it's bell-shaped fragrant flowers. Sometimes when walking through our neighbourhood on a mild spring evening, the sweet scent of this little flower comes out to greet me from a neighbour's yard. We've transplanted some plants into our yard. I'm looking forward to being able to place some flowers in a dainty bouquet in our house so we can enjoy their exquisite fragrance indoors as well as outside.

Over the past few years I have been giving Mom cologne, talcum powder and lotion with the Eveyln and Crabtree version of Lily of the Valley. It truly has the delicate scent of the flower for which it is named. I love nothing more than smelling that lovely aroma on my mother when she is dressed and ready for her day at the Long Term Care Facility in which she resides and where I work the night shift. As the disablitating disease known as PSP continues to cause her body to deteriorate, sadness overtakes me. But having her covered with the beautiful scent of spring makes me happy and reminds me of a day coming when she will be restored once again with a healthy, whole body in the Home where springtime will never end.

One of my favourite things

Something I have come to realize over the past while, is how much I love to write. Writing my thoughts onto a blog on the computer is something I enjoy. But what I really love to do, is to take a gel pen (I'm afraid I'm developing an addiction to gel pens, and now have quite a collection of different colours!) and my journal and write! I also enjoy writing letters. There is just something so personal about hand writing with a favourite pen.

I guess I'll admit to this as well. I like using stickers. May-be it's because when I was a child, we simply didn't have stickers. But now...I have a wonderful selection which I love to add to my journalling or to the letters I write. I especially like it when my 12 year old granddaughter, Alyssa comes to visit, and we write letters with our favourite gel pens and stickers!

So anxious for spring!

We've had yet another winter storm. This one consisted of freezing rain, snow, ice pellets. I think this was the worst one yet. I wondered if I was going to get home today. I almost gave up hope of getting out of the parking lot at work. I even considered the option of staying at work and sleeping in the spare room there, but I knew I really wanted to get home. So I started out.
Once on the roads I had to go slowly, but made it home without any misfortune. Now there is another similar storm forecast for the weekend, and I'll be working.

Almost everyone has one wish on their mind and that is for Spring! I think this year when the green grass, spring flowers and warm sunshine arrive, there will be a call for a party and some celebration.

Let's all take heart, spring really is coming...soon!

JOHN

It's hard to believe that John is no longer with us. We attended his memorial service in Carlisle, Pennsylvania on Feb 16 following his death on Feb 9. John and Linda had been living there over the past 4 years.
John had just turned 59 years old. He had fought a courageous battle with Lou Gehrig's Disease over the past 3 years. Walking close beside him was his equally courageous wife of 35 1/2 years, Linda.

I don't claim to know all the details of John's early life. He had been born in Newfoundland and lived some years in England as a child before coming with his parents to live in Hamilton.

His chosen profession was that of a Respiratory Technologist and he worked effeciently at that job for 27 years. After restructuring occurred at St. Joseph's Hospital in Hamilton in 1994, he worked at several other jobs.

I remember back in about 1970 of Tom and I double dating with John and Linda. John had met Linda at a Coffee House event at St Joe's where he was working and where Linda was a student nurse. John took notice of the petite attractive Linda, singing and strumming her guitar, dressed in a lovely dress which definitely was becoming to her womanly features. She surely caught John's attention.

John's priority was taking care of his wife and the two children they were blessed with, Kelly and Matthew. When I say, "taking care of", I mean, he made sure they were each pampered and as happy as he could make them with whatever he could do. A very important way he could do this, was to be sure they were well-fed. Linda, was a great cook, but was often busy with her job, and moved over in the kitchen, so John could do the day to day cooking that needed to be done. John often used "Diana Sauce" when he was cooking chicken.


John used to enjoy challenging our little girls about cleaning their rooms. He'd tell them to grab a garbage bag and get to work. Yes, their rooms were indeed in need of a good going over and the garbage bags were put to great use.
We holidayed with John and Linda at Camp Kahquah for many years. In the evening our girls would be included in a procession including Kelly and Matthew, and march behind the Pied Piper, John, to the washrooms to brush their teeth as they sang along with him

"We're in the army now,
We're not behind the plough,
We'll never get rich, digging a ditch,
We're in the army now"

Oh yes, the memories are rich.
When Linda married John, he professed his religion to be Roman Catholic. After several years of Linda attending the Ridgemount Brethren in Christ Church, John began, ever so cautiously, to join her, at first infrequently and then on a regular basis. I still remember the joy of the day of his adult baptism. Indeed, that was a time of celebration.

But John is gone now. A wonderful friend is no longer with us. It feels good reminiscing and thinking about him. We look forward to the day when we will join with him in our heavenly home

What time is it?

It seems like I'm always racing against the clock. Whether it's going to bed, getting up, getting ready for work, going to church or an appointment, visiting my family or friends...the clock is dictating the rythmn of my life. And, to top it off, I'm always being challenged by the clock, running a little later than I ought, taking a chance, not sure I'll make it on time.
I sense that in the large scheme of things, the clock is ticking. News of earthquakes, strange weather patterns, storms, hurricanes, drought, flooding, famine, earthquakes, recession, wars....hmmm why does this theme ring a bell within me? Yes, the clock is ticking, ever closer to the deadline for which we must all be ready. Please join with me in being ready in time, not taking a chance of being late for the ultimate deadline.
Matt 25:13 “So you, too, must keep watch! For you do not know the day or hour of my return." - Jesus

After the storm

This past week has been a week of storms. I've driven through fog, lightening, snow, freezing rain, wind...you name it, we've had it this week. As I head out for my nightly drive through the country, I am sure to have my stash of emergency supplies with me. A shovel, boots, kitty litter, salt, blanket, candles, lighter....and one more very, very important item - my camera! Last night was no exception to the recent weather events. I drove through freezing rain and snow, thinking that just may-be on the drive home in the morning, I might be able to take a good picture. So this morning, after working 2 hours overtime until my colleague could get pulled out of the ditch and to work, I headed home. But I took a detour on Mt Olivet Road. There I came across this winter scene. There is always something beautiful after the storm.

Grandma Moved....again!

Jan 20 was Grandma's 100th birthday. Her health had been declining steadily and it was hard to know how to plan a birthday celebration. After much debate, it was decided that despite the fact that she might not be able to participate in the festivities, that we were going to acknowledge this very special milestone with a cake, some flowers, and candles, all featuring the colour pink, as that was her favourite colour.

However things took a decidedly different turn. As we arrived with cake and decorations in hand, we were greeted with the news, that after a few hours which decidedly proclaimed her a centenarian, she left us here, holding the cake so to speak, and went to her heavenly home where she could truly celebrate in vibrant health, with perfect eyesight and hearing, with Jesus, the angels, and her many friends and loved ones who are already enjoying life in the land where we'll never grow old.

Happy Birthday, Grandma!