When March 1, 2023, emerged, I wept. The tears flowed fast and warm, bubbling up by an inner fountain of pain. I realized that March would be the first complete month in my life that I had no mother. She died on February 6, so I had a few mental beams to cling to upon my calendar. I told myself, "Mom was here a week ago...two weeks ago...she was here this month." Once February turned to March, this helpless backtracking of memories was of no comfort. Now the journey takes a solemn silent path where no maps can help. Now that I have lost both parents, their legacy in my life consists of photos, a few writings, objects and their teachings. I have to reach back and pull out the recordings of their voices which my mind has cataloged. I hear their laughter, their advice, their words of instruction. I no longer have their presence to guide me--- but the seeds that they have planted will now produce a garden as I travel as an orphan upon earth's journey. Like Johnny Appleseed, they went before me, planting apple trees that they knew my path would cross. Now I must stop along the way, reach up, and feed upon those apples. I am an orphan, but I am not orphaned. To be orphaned is to be abandoned. My parents gave me all the tools to navigate life: faith in God, the saving message of Christ, a love for God's Word, and acceptance as me as a person. They taught me the beauty of nature in camping trips and picnics. They taught me the fun of friends and the importance of a church family. These holy tools have led me through valleys and high places in my short 53 years. Yes, they are gone for now, but much of them still strives in me. I write to an inmate on death row. He prayed for me during this time, and wrote a beautiful poem which needs to be shared: "The Last Care" The thing "death" has called me--- and it calls for me from heaven, from upstairs in the sky. It has now come that time for me to die, death is not an honor, it is not a glory-- death takes me in vain. Thank God as my life never ruined itself; now that death is in my atmosphere it wraps itself on me --- God has not forsaken me! So, I commend the breath of my life unto Him whispering, "Eloi (friend) Eloi: (friend) SambachThani: have mercy on me, do not forsake me" It's my death time now that puts me to rest alone with God Almighty---- Who first gave life to me. Written by Pressley B. Alston, written on behalf of those with dementia 2023
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AuthorRochelle Felsburg is a music teacher, Church music director, teacher, pianist, hostess, gardener, and writer. She is a crazy cat lady. Most of all she's her husband's (Darren's) girlfriend! Archives
July 2025
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