A clean, well lighted place

2009-03-19T20:26:00.000-07:00

Mothers make this world a better place. They instill a gentleness in each of us. What we do with it is another story. My mom died when I was 10 years old, but her influence has continued with me 25 years after her early exit. More often than you would think, I run into people who knew my mom well. I have instant credibility when they find out that I am Jenny Marie Edgar's son. I used to think that, as with all people who die, her virtues were being magnified by her those who knew her. But now I am convinced that I was wrong about that. I think she was as absolutely wonderful as everyone describes her. I certainly have no bad memories of her - but then my heart would break for any young boy who has bad memories of his mother. She is frozen in my memory as a loving, patient, funny, poetic, artistic, strong, gentle woman who knew she had flaws and acknowledged them and dealt with them as best she could while continuing to lift others up. When I meet others that knew her, they confirm my memories and each adds a little detail to my angelic mom. I cherish the short time that I had with her.

My little kids have it pretty good too. Everything their mom does is for them. After our little chug, Cruise, was born, I woke up one early morning and saw Sara rocking him in our rocking chair in the corner of our room. It was a quiet moment. She had put her life on the line for him and now she was holding him, comforting his little heart and keeping him warm. Yes, mothers make this world a better place indeed. In the end, sometimes a mother's love is all we have.

Forward and back

The rocking chair rocks

Gently forward and back.

It's peaceful and still

In the quiet air

Save for the motion of

The rocking chair

A mother sits in the rocking chair

Her head hung down - but not low -

Her hair falling on her shoulders

In the early morning

After a late night

Rocking her baby

In the dim lamp light

Her fingers tenderly trace

Her little boy's ear

And her lips touch his little face

As she quietly hums

With a calm, quiet breath

While she cuddles him close

While she keeps him warm.

The room is dark and quiet

Except for the lamp

And the mother by it,

As she hums to her baby

While forward and back

Her rocking chair rocks

Gently forward and back.

Long Live the King

2009-03-17T20:20:00.000-07:00

Elvis changed the face of music. His body of work is impressive. Unfortunately, all that most people know of him is Hound Dog, Jailhouse Rock, etc. Much of his work in the 70's and his country recordings are unknown to the masses, and that is ashame. In my opinion, as great as his music was in the 50's, there are some songs he did in the 70's that make the 50's sound like 7th grade music class. Much of his music is covers of other well know songs. He always improved them. Here are a couple samples. Long live the King.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OyraEY5Qt6k

A farewell to winter

2009-03-12T00:00:00.000-07:00

Spring is quickly approaching. I am excited as the days stretch longer and warmer, but part of me is already missing the crisp, snow filled days of winter. I loved waking up while the sky is still black after a heavy snow fall and going out to shovel the drive way. It is so peaceful. The snow muffles whatever sound there is that early in the morning: the scrape of my shovel along the drive way, the occasional car that drives by or the insane runner who opted to get out of a warm bed to head out into the freezing, black morning. I love the bite of the cold air on my face which gets more and more refreshing the longer I shovel and build up heat inside my coat and hat. I will miss those dark, quiet, peaceful mornings. It was a great way to start the day.

With the coming spring and summer, I will be met with lighter, warmer mornings. Instead of shoveling, I will be running (not insanely, mind you, since I am opting to get out of bed to head out into a warm, brilliant morning). To be sure, life is still good, but I will miss those wonderful winter mornings.

The remnant snow crumbles,
As the warm air comes upon,
Spilling itself into little puddles
On the already pregnant earth.

sre

Come with Me

2009-03-11T20:08:00.001-07:00

Come with me, if you care

To watch the mountains disappear

In a blaze of burning light

As the day gives way to night.

sre

Sunset over the Salt Lake from Grandma Harvey's porch