There are three Bradford pear trees on a corner near my home. They are loaded with white blossoms. One of the trees is a little more advanced than the others so the green is overtaking the white. I want to yell, “Wait, I’m not through enjoying the white blossoms.” My great granddaughters, 4 and 6 years old, have been with me a couple of days. I love the secret I share with the older one as we watch the younger one change. It makes the six year old feel so important and smart. I love them bunches. I want to yell, “Wait, I’m not tired of you at four and six.” I just came back from the senior center where I sing with other over-60 group of friends and I know many of us are over 70, even over 80. I looked around at each one, and thought of the pleasure each one gives me. I know one of us will be gone soon, to sickness or death. I want to yell, “Wait, we’re not ready.” The trees are going to change, the girls are going to grow older, and we seniors are going to go into eternity. By experience, I know I’m still going to like the trees. By experience, I know I will still love my girls whatever their age. By faith, I accept death as another natural move forward. I remember Psalm 116:15 which says that the death of saints is precious in the sight of the Lord. So it can’t be all bad! I want to be prepared emotionally and spiritually to have hope in all changes.

About oneta hayes

ABOUT ME Hello. To various folks I am Neat’nee, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins...
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