Tag Archives: Memories

and if Heaven might ever choose to call . . .

Posted by IronHorse on

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noWhere,  at All

 ( and noWhere,  to be )

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The very finest in Insisted Living . . . with stylized Healthcare,  planicured HomeSites,  demilitarized Recreation Facilities,  all strategically placed within multi-generational Requirement Communities, providing environmentally digitized Neighborhoods among zero-tolerant Landscapes,  with artistically enhanced Security,  and politically sanitized Tranquility,  tactfully situated in the surgically mechanized Atmospheres,  of a state-of-the-art,  programmably engineered Lifestyle . . .

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“ if it’s too good to be true,  We built it ”

“ where Miracles can happen,  right on time ”

“ We take the worry out of being entirely different ”

“ and at a price You can live with,  no matter what the cost ”

“ with Your memories in Our hands, Tomorrow will come as no surprise ”

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The Centers for Creative Redundancy

and

The BellWeather Foundation for Selective Philanthropy

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The Hallmark, of Living by Design

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(pricing of available models subject to genetic proclivity, spiritual dexterity, and financial complacency)

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on This Day of Days . . .

Posted by IronHorse on

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Hello Ev,

 
I am going to assume this one will commemorate your 27th year on the planet . . .
 
and in light of that marvelous achievement,  I certainly want to wish U all the very best,  and that U receive only those things that U need,  want,  deserve,  and desire . . .
 
As we both know,  the means to shower each other with packages surrounded by ribbons and bows has been in a state of flux these past few years,  especially within my own sphere of influence or intent,  and as my own Day of Birth approaches,  I am all too aware that the circumstances which bring those kinds of opportunities have been relegated to the far side of ‘maybe’,  at least as far as 2013 is concerned . . .
 
When it is all said and done,  and if times and circumstances could be somehow re-arranged or re-worked to allow for life’s often overwhelming twists of Fate, then I would still wish for the most precious and priceless of gifts to ever come wrapped in a box or stuffed in an envelope, and that would be the sweetest and most joyous moments U and I could ever spend in each other’s company,  as we had done so long ago in Days Gone By, before things got so terribly complicated,  when all we had to do was pick up our gloves and a baseball and walk out onto the street in front of our house and face each other from about 80′ away,  and let fly with everything we had to give,  and it wound up being everything that really matters in this world,  when a father and son each knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt,  that few things in this life would ever be as cool or so thoroughly cherished,  as this . . .
 
and for every treasured memory U caused, crafted, or conveyed into the corridors of My Heart,  I can only bow my head in sheer and absolute wonder,  and thankfulness,  for making the very quality of my life so completely unique and unparalleled,  by virtue of simply being the boy U were and the man U have become,  making all those moments then,  now,  and in between,  most if not all,  of The Best Days of My Life . . .
 
have a very Happy Birthday,  Ev . . .
 
as Ever,  and for Always,  
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I love U . . .
 
 
Dad
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waiting, patiently

Posted by IronHorse on

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And Through It All

(  there is Grace  )

 

 

each day,  when I think of all the Moments and Memories kept from

ever knowing their beginning or end,  just because my self-centered

regard for your Presence in my life placed you there,  instead of Here,

      it breaks my heart,  again . . .

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013

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      for nigh on seven Summers . . .

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in The Arms of an Iron Horse

Posted by IronHorse on

  

 

 

 

Hope’s Crossing

(  Bridge,  of Sighs  )

 

 

 

as Rain,  caressed The Window,

She could see,  both Far,  and Wide,

She settled back beside Her Dream,

     as They began to enjoy The Ride . . .

 

 

giving Her Thoughts to The Season,

watching Her Memories,  sail On Past,

She knew She had found The Reason,

     so,  She was going Home,  at Last . . .

 

 

She closed Her Eyes,   knowing The Rhythm,

would carry Her Spirit so High,

when She began to feel, 

His cold-blue Steel,

     lift Her Soul,  into,  The Sky . . .

 

 

 

 

from Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Third DoveTale – The Circle of Heaven