Fishing The Coast, Oregon and Washington

September 2012


My special Andrew. I love you so much, Roo. How can I live, without you in my life?
September 1, 2012

my dear free spirit, Andrew
Andrew Allen Martin
August 12, 1987 - August 31, 2012

Andrew was my intelligent, hilarious, awesome to be around-free spirit, and I loved him more than anyone can imagine. He always made me laugh, no matter what.
He was so alike me. We both appreciated the little things in life, and he had that same excitement over things like the way Fall felt in the air, or maybe things that reminded us of our Hawaii trip. Just that excitement in life.
We were marfan buddies and could relate to each other. I can't help but feel alone, and jut a tad more afraid, now. But, I loved him so much that I'm relieved that he no longer has to fight the things to come. He'd complain often about the pain of marfan, but at the same time, pack up to go somewhere to visit friends, as if he could just forget the pain, and move on. Life was bigger than marfan syndrome for him.
Selfishly, there are so many things I'll miss, that I can't stop the tears. I can't sleep, even though I know he's no longer in pain, and in a better place.
David is my rock, and he is with me. They were best friends having been born only 13 months apart. They were always side by side in just about everything. I don't know how David is going to do this. So sad that they aren't going to grow old together, and always have each other. It doesn't seem fair at all.
Life will go on, but I can't help but think that these past two years have dealt some unusually tough blows to our family. I guess I'm about to find out how strong, or weak, I really am.

September 3, 2012

Though the fig tree may not blossom,
Nor fruit be on the vines;
Though the labor of the olive may fail,
And the fields yield no food;
Though the flock may be cut off from the fold,
And there be no herd in the stalls­
18 Yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will joy in the God of my salvation.

19 The Lord God is my strength;
He will make my feet like deer’s feet,
And He will make me walk on my high hills
(Habakkuk 3:17-19)

September 6, 2012

Friends and family are welcome to attend Andrews celebration of life at 2:00 pm Saturday September 8th, at my sister and brother in laws home in Wilsonville.

Their home is at

3600 SW Advance Road
Wilsonville Oregon
97070

We are having a fingerfood (no silverware type stuff) potluck to follow. Please feel free to bring fruits, veggies, cookies, finger sandwiches, whatever, ready to serve for after the service. It may be warm out, so remember safe refrigeration, as it is outside.

In lieu of flowers, we would appreciate donations that can be made to marfan syndrome research.

Thank you for loving Andrew.

I really don't have much to say. These are difficult times.
It's the kind of Fall we all dream of, yet the sun isn't shining very strongly on me. It warms my skin, but doesn't penetrate to my heart. The uneasiness of Fall that started for me with 911 has grown. Fall used to be my favorite season. Andrew used to bring me pretty leaves because he knew how much I loved Fall. I'm going to try to heal my heart of the emptiness of Fall, for his benefit. I want to love colorful leaves again, and heal, heal, heal. Andrew would want it that way.
He loved how I decorated the house for Holidays. He loved things strongly. He got excited about things, food, Holidays, vacations, like I did. I have to carry that on. I can't lose that. I am holding on, tightly, knowing full well I could easily lose the battle. I refuse to become bitter like I've seen some do. I really understand that bitterness. I do. It's easy to go there. I pray so hard that I stay out of that path.
I can feel the prayers and thoughts from so many of you, and I'm so thankful for that. I think I can... I think I can... I think I can get by. I don't know how people get by without the love of their Heavenly Father. I just don't know. He is my only salvation through this. He walks with me and he talks with me. I feel his arms around me. He knows I hurt.
Andrew and I were so close. So alike, in so many ways. Ways that I wasn't proud of, sometimes, too! Sometimes I'd hear him say something, or see him do something, and I'd roll my eyes. "Oh, please don't be like me!" I'd laugh.
I always had trouble saying no to Andrew. He had a way. Was he spoiled? Do you need to ask? It's difficult not to spoil a child with a life threatening medical problem that I know so much about. I shouldn't have. But- Woulda, coulda, shoulda... Many of those to come, I'm sure. Oh, the guilt. The grief. The sadness. The denial.
The good Lord understands when I curse in anger, or I cry in despair.
What are the stages of grief? I've read them so many times, yet when I need them, I can't think. How far have I progressed? Very little, I'm afraid.
I read books that say it takes 2 years at the least, to get by this grief. But-- I have my Heavenly Father close by my side. I'm going to beat that time frame.
Someday, and someday soon, I will feel joy, again.

September 8, 2012
I hope you join us, today at 2:00 PM, in celebration of Andrew's Life.
It will be at 3600 SW Advance Road
Wilsonville Oregon
97070

"It really can't be!" I keep saying to myself. Andrew can't be gone. It's that denial stage, I guess. Who cares, though, really, what "stage" it is. Our life is not a book, or a psych class. This is real. Real stuff, real family. Years of it... gone? No. They are not gone. They are now golden memories... that a parent shouldn't have. The children have golden memories of parents, not the other way around!
It's not fair. It's not right, but it is what it is, and I'm going to be alright.
Man, oh, man have I been through it. The fear of going thru cancer means so little to me, now. I'm not the least bit afraid of cancer, anymore. I had it. I beat it, at least for now. This pain of chemo has nothing on losing a child.
Oh, man. You don't want to hear me hurting. No one does. And after his service, today, his "celebration of life", and all will be forgotten for many. But, not for me! I'm so afraid of being left alone with this grief.
I'm playing Andrew's favorite songs to get a play list ready for this afternoon. The Beatles, (Actually, Paul McCartney, live) "Hey Jude" and Neil Young's "Old man". Andrew so loved Paul McCartney. He saw him live at Coachella. I paid for him to go, and it really hurt my finances, but you know? I'm so glad I did it. He loved that experience so much. He talked about seeing Paul live up till the last days of his life. Thank you, Paul, for giving my son joy!
Yesterday David and I went through all of our family pictures, and one thing is sure. David and he had the most amazing childhood! David agrees and says that he was honored to spend the best years of his life, with him. From setting up the pool in the house in the wintertime, (Yes, we really did!! We turned up the heat, had egg salad sandwiches on towels surrounding the pool!} -to going to Disneyland. Their childhood was a hoot!
This morning, I make the collage of the pictures we picked out. That is, if there is enough room for them all! I took so many pictures, and I'm so glad!
Oh, Andrew. After today, I'm going to pick up my boot straps, and start back on ifish to help the mods. I'm going to live my life, again. I'll never forget you, but I'm not going to let grief take me over. I'm going to continue to live my life, in honor of you. I'm going to ooh and ahh over the smell of roses, and think of you. I'm going to go to Disneyland and go on rides over and over again, thinking of how happy that made you.
Andrew, you will live in me, for the rest of my days. I love you.

They're writing songs of love, but not for me.
A lucky star's above, but not for me.
With love to lead the way
I've found more clouds of grey
than any Russ a in play could guarantee.

September 11, 2012

I've got to get fishing, again. I've got to!
I think it might free my mind up, a bit.
This weekend, David is having a sort of celebration of Andrew's life, especially for his friends. We will be (I am his friend, I hope... so I will go!) spreading his ashes over the beach and over the river.
Picking up his ashes was so final. David and I buddied up and did it together. Thank God for the rock in the family. David gives the best hugs! I can't tell you how many times he has hugged the tears away, since this happened. I've got to stop that and be happy for his sake. After all, I still have my DeeDee... (David) and somewhere, in the wind, in the sunshine that warms me, and in the soft music from the river, is my Andrew. Somewhere out there... I can feel him so often! He is still with us. I can't wait for a storm where the river rises and splashes against everything as it makes its way to the ocean. Now, that is where I'll hear Andrew. After all, he played his music so loudly, and it was so wild, that yes... a raging river is where we'll feel him most.
Sometimes I think "to heck" with my debt and think about how much I have available on credit. Yeah, sure... I'd pay for it the rest of my life, but who cares? I'd go to an island to just rest and to recover. Get well from all the surgeries, all the world's pain, everything... but, then I come to my senses. Darnit! I don't like those darn senses!
Still, it's what I do to get over stuff. I plan trips. I like to see how inexpensively I could go... how cheaply I could get a place, and try to find the best rate on a flight. I always wanted to be a travel agent, and everyone I've done it for thinks I do a great job. It's just fun, I guess. It takes me away, if only for a moment. I'd love to go to St. Barts or better yet, a private island where nothing goes on but the sea and the sand. A private island with a hut on the sand. David, let's go!
But, instead, all islands aside.... I think I'll just go to the coast and go fishing. I really think it will do me about the same good. I just need to get away. Even if it's home, home, on the river.

September 14, 2012

Off to go crabbing. Keeping busy... keeping busy... keeping busy....

September 16, 2012

Well, let's see. Bill and I have kept busy this week, and I think Willie thinks he's in Heaven.
On Friday, we went crabbing and had a blast. We used the new Klamath boat that Bill got for "easier handling" and for duck hunting, this Fall.
It's really nice. Small, but plenty of room for crab pots, dogs, Bill and I, and a cooler.
We put in at Netarts and used chicken parts in our pots. We pulled three pots for 2 hours and came home with 8 nice big male, fairly hard bodied crabs. Most people soak their pots too long. We just let them soak for 10 minutes each, and worked the circle of three, pretty constantly.
The rest of the day we cooked and cleaned crab and came out with 2 pounds of luscious meat. (How much is picked crab, now days?) It's been so nice having it!
The first night we had crab salad and fresh bread. Yum!
Every once and a while, I just visit the fridge and have a bite. So, so good! Is there anything better?
Yesterday, we took off for the woods to search for chanterelles. I know it's been dry... very dry! I know it was Saturday... but we went, anyhow.
The parking lot at the top of Hiway 6 was packed with trucks and trailers and four wheelers. We headed opposite them, and went until it was quiet. We took both dogs, and man, did they have fun!
Remember that if you go to the woods, you really have to watch your hunting seasons. We always wear hunting colors, and even put them on the dogs, just in case. Luckily for us, it was only grouse, (dove?) and elk by archery season. We felt pretty safe, except for the four wheelers. The noise was pretty bad, too!
As far as chanterelles, they were hard to spot, fairly few of them, (no, really few!) and fairly dried out. But-- we found enough nice new ones for dinner, and last night? Last night? Oh, my!
Bill "Traegered" a small steak for us to split, and put on a pot of wild and white rice. I took it from there. I made a special Hollandaise-like sauce, with diced red peppers and garlic. I also added a little cayenne and paprika.
To hold it, I put it in a double boiler and then 5 minutes prior to dinner, I put two huge glumps (is that a word?) of crab on top, and waited for the steaks to come off, and the crab to barely warm.
When they did, I served a plate of steak and rice, and carefully put the crab on top of both, and then a couple dips of the sauce on top of that.
The dinner was spent talking about how if we were 20 years younger, we'd buy a failing restaurant and make it successful by cooking the dinners that we enjoy.
Oh, man it was good! I have to say it was one of our best! We are quite the team!
Often times, we sit down to dinner, or plate up, and say things like, "Do you know how much this would cost in a diner?"
Oh yeah! I also made cornbread with fresh blueberries and for dessert, (which we did NOT have room for) and is waiting for us to eat this morning-- a blueberry individual cobbler. Wonder how much that would go for in a diner?! :)
I'm going back to Oregon City today... I think. But, only to pick up David, and to come back to the coast.
I find myself missing David, when I'm here.
I find myself missing Andrew, no matter where I am.
I have moments of extreme shock, still, and find myself in tears when I least expect it. Just little things... they remind me of Andrew in ways unwarned.
The shock has worn off, for the most part I try so hard to fight it, and wonder if perhaps I should just let it happen. Just leak tears whenever... and not care who is around me. I need to let them out, or they will come out years later. Heck, they'll probably come out years later, no matter what.
I have had two real body shocks that have hit me pretty hard. My divorce, many years ago, and Andrew's death. Both felt like a death. Both left me in tears for quite some time.
But, I'm going to be OK. I'm going to make myself be OK.
Funny. I read somewhere that my son David is just being strong for me. Well, I feel the same way. I feel like I must be strong for him.
We will both be strong for each other.

September 19, 2012

Yikes. The program that I use to update this site decided they needed to "up" date. So, I did so, thinking that I should, and it changed everything. Wait a minute! How do I "down" date? I have no time to learn how to do a Dreamweaver update! I liked it before! I was quite happy before!
It's scary, because it uploaded my old content, and I had to search to find my new content and argh... argh, argh, argh!
Well, I'm doing my life and trying to go on with things, but it's like there is a hole in my heart and life. It's like half of a life? I always kind of thought of the boys as "the boys". A whole. Now, it is a half. The "boy".
It's also frustrating because I keep envisioning those videos you see on the television after a devastating earthquake or tsunami and women and men are bent over, wailing and crying, mourning their lost loved ones. I want to do that, out in the streets, or wherever. But, there's been no devastating earthquake or tsunami. People would think me nuts. Everything in the world is normal and well. But not for me.
You know, usually when I go thru something emotionally difficult, the creative side of me comes out. So far, not that, either. Is there any benefit to something like this? Will I ever get over it? Will life as I knew it ever happen, again? When do I "come to?"
There are still fun things. Crabbing was fun and so was chanterelle hunting but there is just an emptiness to the world.
On top of that my friend who has cancer hasn't answered my last e mail. I don't know what to do to find out if she is doing alright, or.... not. I am going to have to make that difficult phone call. I don't want to know, but then again I do. I'm just afraid.
Here I am, with marfan syndrome, thinking that I would die first, before anyone else I knew and loved. Ha! I was fooled.
I need to get back to the coast to do things. To keep me occupied and have the river to soothe my soul.
I heard something yesterday that helped me. Something I knew, but wasn't thinking about. We are spirits, aside from our physical body. Therefore, Andrew hasn't really left us. His spirit is still with us. I like that. It helps me to not feel so empty.
Like the program that I just updated, I want to down date, or reverse the last month. I really liked it before Andrew left us. And yet, there is nothing I can do to go back there. We move on. We learn to deal with the new. Always changing. But-- not always for the best, or the way we like it.
The following thoughts sound bitter and that is one thing in my life, I swear I am going to avoid. But-- doesn't it seem, sometimes, that we spend the first half of our lives gathering up things that make us happy? Establishing new relationships and gaining love? So, is the second half about losing those things?
No. I refuse to think that way. I am going to try with all my might to learn from this. To help others with dealing with this, and to find some darn way to benefit from my experiences.
Somehow...darnit, anyhow,. I will do that.

September 20, 2012

Willie has gone bonkers wild. He is the resident squirrel guard.
I don't know what to do! I enjoy watching the squirrels, but at the same time, they eat the food out of my bird feeders!
Tammy feeds the squirrels! She loves them, and has trouble with the fact that Willie chases her friends.
I get a kick out of how much Willie loves to "hunt them up!"
Quite frankly, I doubt that Willie will ever catch one, and if he did, know what the heck to do with it, once he did.
They are up on the fence, in the back yard. They rarely come down to investigate what has fallen from the feeder, or climb the trees to get at the feeders. But, when they do, oh, does Willie ever have a time of it! He flies! He leaps! He barks like a guard dog! You know, the squirrel guard dog. The "night guard", too. The one with a flashlight in his mouth.
Willie loves flashlights and squirrels.
He'll take a flashlight in his mouth, and run the perimeter of the back yard, and yes, the neighbors refer to him as the "night guard."
Yesterday I was at the puppy park. I go to the one at West Linn. Often times, I meet up with other ladies and we talk dog talk and puppy talk.
When I showed them that Willie will run only when I sing his song, they cracked up. "You could make a mint on You Tube!" they said. Well, I have a video on You Tube of it, and so far, nada. :) No riches. No fame. Just a silly dog that loves Mom's singing.
We have a battle between Tammy and I. She tells Willie not to chase the squirrels, and I (don't tell her!) kind of egg him on. I mean, come on.... He's got to have exercise and he's fun to watch!

September 24, 2012

“Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends.” Joan Didion

It was such a normal day. I rose from my bed, and went thru my usual morning rituals. I made coffee. I fed the cat a treat or two, and fed the dog his usual breakfast. We played flashlight for a bit, until it was my turn to sit down, drink the coffee, write, and work on ifish.
Everything was normal, even though inside the house, a shock lay in wait for me. Grief was about to happen to me. I didn't even know it was there, until I opened Andrew's bedroom door. I was awake for hours on that morning, there in the house, living my life as normal, not knowing that life, as I knew it, would soon end!
I am deep into the book, "The year of magical thinking" by Joan Didion.
Sounds wonderful, right? But, it's not- and it is- ...wonderful. It is the story of her grief, about how she dealt with crisis after crisis in her life. She lost her husband, and continued losing so much more.
There are so many quotes from this book that have hit home to me.

“As a writer, even as a child, long before what I wrote began to be published, I developed a sense that meaning itself was resident in the rhythms of words and sentences and paragraphs...The way I write is who I am, or have become...”

and

“Although I have felt compelled to write things down since I was five years old, I doubt that my daughter ever will, for she is a singularly blessed and accepting child, delighted with life exactly as life presents itself to her, unafraid to go to sleep and unafraid to wake up. Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.”

I can't even count my losses, as of late.
I grew up in a fantasy world where everything was wonderful for so long. I was born to be like her daughter, I think. But, then again, I always kept a journal.
I didn't know death or loss until I was in my young twenties, and then, it still wasn't a loss like I feel, today. Certainly, it wasn't anything close to knowing grief.
About 8 years ago, I became slowly introduced to shock and things built up until I landed on grief. It started when I almost died, when my aorta dissected. From there on, I have been thrown crisis after crisis. I thought I was doing alright with it. That was, until I lost Andrew. Now, that right there, that's grief.
No way around it. It was wrapped into a tight little bundle and dropped on my doorstep. "Welcome to grief, Jennie".
Nothing can be done about it, so I just wade into and through it, and try to get beyond it. If anything, I will get beyond it, by writing. I just keep on writing, and learning.
And, another quote from Joan that matches my grief:

“I just can't see the upside in this," I heard myself say by way of explanation.

But, I will find it. I will find it, by writing about it, and I will, I have to, come back to fishing. It's a full circle, and there has to be some kind of upside. Is it wisdom? I'll never know, until I get through this.

“I don't know what I think until I write it down.”

I'm a writer that fishes, but so much more happens in my life that it's hard for me to always just be a fisher, and write about only fishing.
I only write in one journal, and that is right here on ifish. I have piles of hand written journals from my childhood on. But, now, I write here, and only here.
I apologize for the columns that don't deal with fishing, but in order to come back to that fishing life that I know and love, I have to wade thru what has been thrown in my path, and get beyond it. Beyond it, and back to the tunnel, where the light will eventually be seen. I'm sure it's there, because I still have faith. Thank God that I still have faith. Hope. And, in fleeting moments, I even see flashes of joy.
David assures me, "It's going to be alright, Mom. It is, and it isn't... but I think it's going to be alright."
Now, what does that mean, David? It is, and it isn't!? I totally get it, though. Even though it seems crazy!
So, I'm going to gather up my fly rod and head out to the river.
It's not about fishing, as the river is so low that I doubt anything can hide anywhere, down there. But, it's instead about healing. About trying to find the light at the end of that tunnel. The upside.
I will write until I know what I think about it all.
I will fish, until I know what I think about it all.
Writing and fishing will heal me.
I apologize ahead of time as you go through this with me, until my writing returns to that what always brought me so much joy.
Fishing.

September 26, 2012

Look out, Sailors! There is a nasty virus/cold going around, already! I'm so lucky! I caught one! It's about the most I've caught all summer! No fish, no... but I did land a monster cold!
I thought I was doing OK with it, too, but no! Just like a fish story, it grew and it grew and it grew until I had to go to the doc to get antibiotics.
I was up all night coughing, so I finally just sat up and read most of the night. zzzz. I'm so tired!
It was one of those nights where you watch the clock all night, going, "Oh, no! I only have (xxxx) amount of time left to sleep!" Then, it reduces to (xxx) and (xx) until it's time to get up!
So, I'm up at 5:30 and even though I'm tired, I think Bill and I are going to do a last cutthroat trip.
The leaves get so bad, starting this time of year.
I was laying in bed, last night, thinking about how many months we have of winter weather coming up. I'd never really thought of it like that. By the way, if you haven't done it, don't bother. It's not good. :)
At the same time, I have to remind myself, that life is what is happening right now. We always spend our time looking forward to something, as if today isn't worth a darn!
So what if we have 8 months of wind, rain, and cold coming up? Today, the sun shines!
My brother has a place in Palm Springs, and David and I are going to go enjoy the sunshine, sometime this winter. I am going to try so hard not to constantly look forward to that, and instead, enjoy every rain drop of our Oregon Winter.
Besides, Palm Springs has no salmon or steelhead, so how could it be that great?!
I don't know how many of you remember Glenn (hornblower) and Ginny from ifish, but I've known them thru ifish for what? 10 years?
Ginny and Glenn and I became fast friends, with Ginny and I, emailing multiple times a week. She has been a wonderful friend and support to me.
She is my friend who has cancer, and last Friday I went to see her. She is not at all well, and my heart is breaking for her family, and... for me.
I am so glad that I held her hand and sat with her for the morning. I told her how much I loved her and how much I appreciated her.
Even though you are probably not reading this, you mean the world to me.
So many losses. I love you, Ginny.

September 30, 2012

The sky is as blue as summer, today!
I took Willie for a walk to Chapin park. It is just incredibly beautiful outside. With a slight breeze, the air is totally comfortable with just a tank top and jeans on. Not too hot. Not too cool.
It's Fall. A piece of me feels sadness. I have so many memories of Falls gone by. A startling cool wind of nostalgia blew the hair out of my eyes. The memories flooded over me, in contrast to the warm sun on my back. Memories of sending the kids off to school for the first time after long summer days at home, together. Little Andrew and little David. So cute, together! Memories of our family, picking up walnuts at my Grandma's farm when I was little. Memories of riding my bike out to ride the horse, after the first few days of school.
Clear memories of Andrew, fishing for salmon, catching one after another, while Bill and I tried with all of our might to hook just one. The last fish he hooked, a 30 some pounder, he looked at me casually, and said, "Mom, will you take this? I'm getting kind of tired of it." Argh! That boy had some luck fishing! Luck, but absolutely no lust for it! None at all!
I sat down on a bench and the warm feeling of the sun returned. The wind settled. Memories still danced thru my head.
At the park, someone was flying one of those remote controlled planes and all the children were chasing under it, after it, laughing, falling in the field, having a blast.
Families were gathering for a game, bogged down with picnic chairs, drinks, babies in arms.
Saturday.... in the park. (Only it is Sunday.)
Sunday in the park with George. (Only I'm with Willie)
Women were walking closely together, chatting, doing their walk around the path that follows the perimeter of the park. The Dad's are home, watching the children, I bet. Mommy's morning off. I remember those days. How nice it was, when I could get away, and yet now? I'd give anything to go back to that time, and perhaps choose to stay home with Dad and the kids, instead.
Sunday in the park. Sunday in the park with Willie. Everything is beautiful. Couldn't be more perfect.
Well, except.... Except for the big elephant that sits upon my heart.
I shove it aside, and try, try, try to enjoy everything that is perfect. Everything that is right. Everything that is yes.
I just can't shake that "Oh my gosh" feeling of finding him, that morning. I still have intense shock waves. I can't shake it and it hits me several times a day. I think I sigh, double that of what is normal. I wonder if he hurt when it happened. I wonder what it is that happened? His heart? Sleep apnea? What? What the!?!? Andrew! What happened?! I want to scream.
But, everything goes on, as normal. The park is filled with joy.
Tears. Good thing I have a cold. I brought tissue. I dig it out of my pocket.
I look up to the sun and say out loud, "Andrew. Hug me." And I feel it. I do!
The rest of the walk home, I talk to God out loud. I ask for strength. I tell Him I'm afraid. That I'm lonely. That I hurt. I thank Him for the sunshine. For the day. For everything that is perfect.
I'm going to make it through this. I have no choice, and I'm not going to turn into one of those bitter souls. I owe that to Andrew and to David and to Bill and to ifish... and to myself. I hope I never have that look in my eyes of someone that has gone thru torture. You know how you can see that, sometimes, in some folks? I want to retain joy in my eyes. Forever. I will it to be so!
Smiley Jennie. That's who I am. When I was a baby, the doctor would comment that he'd never seen a baby smile more often. That they'd give me a shot, and I'd still giggle and smile. This is one heck of a shot, but I'm going to keep tradition.
Willie turns around and smiles at me from the end of the leash. Andrew used to love Willie's smile. He used to take Willie for long walks, and Willie would come home with some kind of big prize. A big stick, a rotted bone. Andrew would tell me how proud Willie was of those often awful prizes! He would tell me to look at his smile.
Indeed. Willie does smile.
I thank thee God, for most, this amazing day.
For the blue true dream of sky, and everything that is yes.

Even though, there is no.
I just pray that these difficult things will soften in time.
Thank God that I have confidence that they will.

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