In Memory of Jeff Boze

In memory of Jeff Boze

Photo by Rick Stieve

Early this morning, Jeff Boze was released from his earthly body and gained his new heavenly body.  For those of us who have known Jeff through the years, we have seen a Mr. Indiana body builder turn to an emaciated helpless form.  The disease is called Huntington’s Cholera; the result was heartache to all who watched this strong body degenerate.  Jeff was the first man to teach our sons to use weights and build their bodies.  They loved to go to the gym with him and follow his suggestions and programs.  They looked up to him and thought he was the strongest man in the world at that time.

Jeff was our neighbor for forty years.  I would sit on our back porch and hear melodic tunes floating through the air.  He was an accomplished pianist and songwriter.  These were times of blessing to hear his fingers dance on the keyboard and his creative mind produce beautiful song lyrics.  He loved to write songs and was so successful that he went to Hollywood many times to work on songs for movies such as “Somewhere in Time”.  Other great pianist like Roger Williams, who was his friend, appreciated his gift.

Jeff loved the Lord loudly.  He was like a lighthouse.  He stood strong and offered the gospel to anyone who would listen.  He walked out his faith by helping those in need as well as traveling with Lester Sumrall to help the” Feed the Hungry” program.  Huntington’s could not destroy Jeff’s spirit or his faith.  Until the end, he loved God and wanted to pray with people.

His sense of humor and timing of saying a phrase kept us all laughing.  My favorite phrase was he would tell Pixie, his wife, and I that we were “tralalaling our way to failure.”  He could remember every star, movie, and director.  He could recite these details and lines from the scripts until a few short years ago.  He loved the movie theater world and had close friends in the industry.

Jeff worked with Lester Maddox and George Wallace in their political movements.  He loved supporting the Independent Party and embraced their platforms with the same vigor he lived his life.

Jeff’s two little girls were his joy.  Emily and Anna loved looking for “prizes” in his pockets when he would return from the Silhouette Health Spa, which he owned and operated.  Pixie was his greatest supporter and cheerleader.  She too embraced God and worked to spread God’s word and love to others.  Jeff was a unique individual that will be missed by all who knew and loved him.  However, we rejoice that he is at last free from the disease that imprisoned his body.  He can now write songs of rejoicing with his Lord and Savior.

 

Photo from Miami , Florida newspaper

Thinking About My Future

On rainy, gray days, I just have to think about the future.  My thought pattern goes like this, “ it won’t be too long” until.....Today I realized that it won’t be too long until the Midwest Writers Workshop, which is the last weekend of July.  One of my favorite authors is coming this year.  Her name is Patti Digh . I started following her blog called 37 Days. www.http://37 Days She originally wrote the blog to share her feelings while sitting with her dying stepfather, who died 37 days from the time of his diagnosis of lung cancer.  Her blog became a book.  She writes of everyday matters that matter.  She motivates me to write, to ponder, and to simplify.  

    I met her at Borders on a cold winter day.  She was presenting, and my blogging friends and I went to hear her.  We were not disappointed.  She challenged us to think what we would do if we knew we only had thirty- seven days left on this earth. She encouraged us to write and cherish each moment of time.

    I like her because she addresses everyday problems with insights and experience.  While at her reading, I bought her books, Life is A Verb, Creative is a Verb, and Four Word Self Help.  I enjoyed and learned from each one.  In Life Is A Verb, Patti challenges us to live life fully,  to love,  to question, and how to write down these answers.  I applaud how she uses  profound quotations , personal stories, and action challenges.  She teaches the reader to live intentionally.  She shows us how to make this very moment sacred and meaningful.

    She is coming to Muncie.  Yes, you too can study under her at the Intensive Workshop on Thursday, July 28th. She will hold an all day session sharing, teaching, and giving opportunities to grow, understand, and capture these truths on paper.  I am most excited to be a part of her workshop, which will be a small, intimate group.

    “Creativity involves breaking out of established patterns in order to look at things in a different way.”  These words of Edward de Bono I pass on to you.  Come with me on July 28th and break out of some of your old patterns.  Be inspired by Patti Digh.  Hurry and sign up for her workshop on the Midwest Writers Workshop website.You will spend the day with the instructor and other writers who share your interest. The Part I Intensive small-group sessions are limited to small class sizes. They fill up rapidly so respond quickly. The cost for Part I is $115 and includes lunch. Join me, my writing friends.  We are in for an inspirational ride.  

Fergus, my Faithful Follower

Fergus, the Faithful

This is a difficult blog to write today because I had to say goodbye to Fergus McClain Baron.  I remember just eleven years ago during this  same week of spring, I read an ad that someone in Anderson had  West Highland puppies for sale.  Somehow, I talked Denny into taking me there to see the puppy and that was the end of the “let’s just go look” tale.

I was still teaching and couldn’t bear to leave him home alone.  So, I packed him up in a little crate and took him with me.  Of course, all the kids at Delta thought he was a delight.  The “ I Can” kids supervised him during the day.  They kept a log on his potty and eating schedule, and saw that he had adequate rest time without pats and too much stimulus.

When I retired, Fergie and I became inseparable.  He slept with us and loved going on walks.  The temperament of a terrier keeps his owner active.  There were few days we didn’t walk at least one mile.  Fergie gardened with me, killed moles in the yard, and walked back and forth with me as I gathered flats to plant in the garden.  If I rested on the glider, he too sat on the glider with me.  He loved being outside and wading through puddles or hurdling over snow mounds.  Actually , Fergie kept me moving when I retired and never let me fall into an inactive slump.

Fergus stayed in my art room with me.  If I scrap booked, he laid right at my feet.  When I painted, he was at the bottom of my easel.  When I would write on my computer, he was under my feet.  I just became conditioned to my loving little shadow that followed me everywhere.  We were a team.

Then, about six Christmases ago, we adopted Dobie Gillis.  He had been an abandoned dog and needed a home.  Fergus accepted him so openly.  He stepped back an offered his food to him.  He ran and gave him a stuffed toy.  He had a little difficulty sharing me, but if I petted them both simultaneously all was well.  Now, our walking team was three.Neighbors waved and called “hi” to the boys each day.

 Fergie and Dobie would chase each other in circles around the living room and entertain us, guests, and each other. They laid on their big pillows in front of the fireplace and were content to be sleeping pals.  As soon as I would arise from my chair, both would be at my feet.

 When Ava, our first grand child arrived, they became sentinels on each side of the cradle.  They knew she was family, and they wanted  to protect.  For five years they loved playing pull and tug when she came and sitting in her lap.  Squeals of laughter could be heard as they covered her with doggie kisses.

Fergus’ outstanding trait was his large vocabulary.  He understood so many words.  I would say, “ Fergus, have we praised the Lord today?   He would immediately start turning circles and barking.  If I danced before the Lord using my tambourine, he would bark and run in circles.  He amused my writing friends many times teaching them how to praise the Lord.

We have so many Christmas memories of Fergus waiting for his new toy or stocking filled with treats.  He watched each of us unwrap and awaited his time to tear open his new toy.  I think of all our autumn walks and car rides.  I will miss his huge round black eyes keeping constant eye contact with me all day, every day.

Dobie goes from room to room smelling and looking for his friend.  He waits at the trap door for him to come bounding through but to no avail.  For hours, Dobie has kept his nose pressed against the window looking and looking.  Our sweet Fergie is gone, but oh so many memories remain in our hearts.  Dobie and I will have to adjust . Losing a team member is so difficult.  My red rimmed eyes mourn for my little white fluffy friend who was faithful and gave my retirement even more joy.  You are missed my Fergie boy. You taught me unconditional love.  You taught me joy is in giving.  You made me laugh when I was sad.  You were such an integral part of my living. You will be missed.

My tribute to my friend and nieghbor,Linda Calvert

My Christmas celebrations came to a halt yesterday.  My neighbor past away in her sleep.  Linda will have the ultimate Christmas .  She will be singing with the angels and praising God in the highest.  She will understand fully how the life of Christ was the light of her.  I can't imagine what joy she must feel basking in His glory  and His encompassing light .  I can only know she is walking on the streets of gold with Christ because she lived her live for Him and the family that He gave her.

Linda and Larry Calvert have been our neighbors for over thirty-five years.  I have a large front window .  Through this window, I have watched the Calverts' children play and grow.  We have gone through many snows together and helped dig each other out.  We have planted every spring and talked about these plantings and our expectations.  We have pruned every fall and discussed how this would help our plants next year.  As I have looked out my window through these years, I have watched Linda and Larry as a team.  I have watched them pack their van for a trips to Branson, the Smokey Mountains, and the Rockies.  I have watched them return and heard their enjoyable reports of their trips together.  In fact, through the years, the Calverts have made my daily journal entries many times.  They are the kind of neighbors that you dream of having. They are always there if we needed help, water, or other emergencies.

Linda and I loved sitting on the porch and looking over the neighborhood and talking of how things have changed or not changed. I must admit that I would have to coax her to stop and sit.  She was always busy with household projects or trips to town.  We considered it a blessing that several of the residence on our street had been neighbors since the early seventies.  We discussed Angie's upcoming marriage, her first baby, and her job.  We talked of Nate's diabetes and then his new fiance, wedding plans, job, and life in Indy.

We considered how blessed we were to have husbands that took such good care of us and were faithful to God and His teachings.  We laughed about grandchildren antics and aspirations.  We never tired of talking about her flowers and mine.  We reported our first hummingbird citing as well as how much we fed the local bird population.  We talked often of God's constant care and blessings.  We asked each other for prayer and knew that we would seek our Father's best for each other.

I showed Linda my first painting, and as usual, she was so complimentary.  She was always interested in my current projects or our trips, our son's activities, and  our new home improvements.  She was a pure, pure spirit.  I loved the gentle light that glowed within her.  She was calming to be around.  When she shared about Angie and Nate, it wasn't bragging but praise for how good God was to them.  She was never boisterous just kind and loving.  She demonstrated the love of Christ in her inquiries and her explanations of life's happenings.

Before Linda's heart surgery last spring, she shared that she was dreading it.  We talked of how doctor's were well trained now and how God would be holding her hand.  She recovered so quickly.  She was home and talking to us the very week of her surgery.  She said it was painful but manageable.  That was so Linda.  She liked focusing on the best, the light, the strength, and the joy in her life.  That is what I loved about Linda.  She wasn't critical but concerned.  She wasn't negative but positive.  She wasn't focused on worldly fashion, possessions, or money.  Instead, she shared her love for her family, her granddaughters, nature, and  God's beauty.  She was the right person to hang around if  I was feeling sad or discontent.  Her conversations gave me a lift, a smile, and a portion of her gentle light.

I will miss that light outside my window.  I will miss her sweet, childlike smile.  I will try to learn from her and not focus on grieving but instead on her wonderful life eternal.  God planted a beautiful woman in my life.  I know we shall meet again one day.  Until then, I will remember all her dedication to her  "workouts" at the YMCA, her love of retirement because she could at last sleep late,  her  fastidious attention to her church family,and her diligence in being Larry's handmaiden.

Yes, sweet friend, you will be missed.

When her bulbs bloom this spring, they will beckon a hello to me from Linda smiling down from heaven's gates.                  

Waiting for sunset

These are folks that assemble each night in Florida to see the sunset. As I too was a snow bird last year, I loved watching the sacred sunsets.

Each night I watched crippled, bent over folks shuffle through the sand to find a resting place. Suddenly, it hit me. We are all waiting for our final sunset. Each of us seeks, finds, creates, and inquires. Each person wonders what will happen in their future. Will they slip away like the silent sun behind the horizon? I guess deep down, all of us hope for such an easy passing into eternity. The sun previews each night how to slip away with dignity and rest for the night. The sun impacts each one of us. It provides the warmth needed for our food and existence. I thank God when I see sunrise each day. I am so grateful to see a new morn. I eagerly plan all that I want to do this day. I take not one moment for granted.

I begin the day studying scripture and talking to the Lord. I allow His word to shape me and direct me. I meditate on His love and sacrifice. I ask Him how I could bless Him this day. What person needs a meal, a smile, or a bit of encouragement? Which flower will He help me paint and see through His eyes and His creation? I ponder how I can end this day just like the sun. Have I given warmth or nourishment to anyone? Is there one last part of this day that I need to glorify God. Can I just "be" with Him in the garden and watch the sun slip into slumber? I never look at a sunset that I wonder will this be my last. Will Jesus call me or return? Sunsets are miracles in my mind's eye. They are day markers. They are symbolic memories. Each setting sun holds a dream, a day gone, and an expectation of what tomorrow will bring.

When Shadows Matter

When Shadows Matter


As a child, I would walk quickly trying to trick my shadow. I laughed when my shadow grew tall and skinny. I played tricks on my shadow by sitting under the palm trees to hide from my constant partner. My shadow was my playmate and personal friend.

My Uncle Albert taught me about shadows. He was bald and entertaining to a five year old. He would show me shadows on the wall of a rabbit, fox, and alligator. I waited each afternoon to visit him and comb his hair. He just smiled broadly and sat quietly as I combed through his invisible hair. Then, he would tell me to look at the wall. Suddenly, shadows really mattered.

In my art classes, I have learned the importance of a shadow. It must be in a strategic place to make the painting have depth and believability. Creating shadows and light paths supports the artist’s vision. Shadows create form and value. Without shading and shadows a painting would seem flat and lifeless.

I have learned to respect shadows through the years. But, most importantly God has taught me the importance of shadows through His word.

God promises to use His shadow for my safe keeping. “Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings” Psa. 17:8 Many a time I have visualized a giant wing over me, around me, and under me. I hid in its protection and prayed for mercy. I am intrigued by shadows and realize that even though I cannot touch them, they are real. I need only remind myself that I can’t touch God, but I know He is real. The shadow teaching reminds me of my need for faith.

We are told that our days are like a shadow. We are here today but will wither away like a fleeting shadow. I am reminded in this verse how fragile life is. I must make each moment special and beautiful, so it will be worth remembering. My shadow will flee, but my mercy and love will be remembered. “He springs up like a flower and withers away; like a fleeting shadow, he does not endure.” Job 14:2

I remember vividly the day I saw the shadow of death in Israel. The mountain cast dark shadows and created black ravines. I visually could see what David described as the shadow of death. It was vast, dark, and lonely. Each time I pray this verse, I reflect on the importance of that shadow. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Psa. 23:4

I think about shadows often. His shadow gives me protection and rest. I desire to be in His shadow always. I yearn to be the apple of His eye. I realize that shadows are a blessing and important in our lives.