Tuesday, November 26, 2013

My Beautiful Grandmother

Yesterday, we said our "Until we meet again" to my precious grandmother.

The Lilly is my favorite flower.  Well, Tiger lillies over the white ones or orchid lillies.  I like orange, crimson, and yellow over pink anyway, but with the red roses the entire bouquet is quite invigorating.

Since grandma loved plants and flowers so much we knew she would have told us to take all those flowers home with us and keep them up.  Everyone did just that.

Brother Joseph also had sent a bouquet of white flowers.

This is what she looks like.
And always will.

The night she passed on and we were given the news, I had previously noticed the morning star shining ever so brightly and brilliantly in the western sky.  It felt like a bad omen sort of thing, but calming and uplifting all at the same time.  After hearing the news, on our way home, all I could see was that star, radiating peace and comfort over our aching hearts.  Still there...shining brighter than ever.  By the time I got home and began to process all the emotions... a poem was beginning to birth.  It was a struggle at first.  But it is very special to me.  And after reading it at the funeral service, I publish it here:

Evening Star

Laurisa Borlovan

Fairest Angel of the morning, beacon of the dusk
Your rising in the western sky brought to me peace.
You are a goodly star, Comfort in the night,
When chilly death preys upon our joy, puts us to the test.
Many wish upon You, thinking, You've come to grant their wants:
Your advent's for their good alone, and night no sorrow brings.
This night You rose so differently, bittersweet You shined,
Upon my house. Bearer of good tidings, messenger of love,
Amber light to warm the soul, Comforter and Dove.
For her You shone so pleasantly, Your beauty soothed my heart.
No other star You would allow to bear Your precious gem
From this testing to Your throne; You came Yourself to show
That You're as personal and near as You tell us that You are:
Cloaked in amber glory, You stooped down to her side
Held out the arms You spread for her when on the cross you died.
And taking both her hands in Yours, You let her feel the scars
Then raised her up and drew her close and let her turn to see,
The husk that suffered many things for the harvest of the seed.
How trivial this dream You awoke her from! -- To sleep no more
But live Eternally in Your Love.
Oh Great Morning Star! For Your daughter did You come,
Plucked a perfected flower, called Your child home,
With the arms You spread for us, You bore her through the night
No other angel did You send, No, not any lesser light.
Before You lead her through the gate at your fading from our sky,
One hundred personal servants are called to wipe her eyes.
Precious, Holy, Morning star! That cold black river crossed
When sinful hands raised you 'twixt the shores and now
Each night and early morn, You rise and stand there glowing
Blazing in the breach, to carry over every child You'll not let cross alone.
No grave could hold you, Morning star! And Your children set on high,
Will rise again one morn with You and call us to the sky.

Laurisa - the first grandchild, and the first born of her firstborn

End note:  You all know that the Evening Star and Morning Star are the same person.  Now I cannot look at it the same ever again.  It is not a star for wishing upon, like some good luck charm.  And whenever I see it, I will think of His coming for my grandmother.  
It is also interesting to note that the ancient heathens named the Morning Star Venus, after the goddess of love.  Really, it is The God of Love, Perfect Love, the only Good Love.  

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Ignorance is Bliss

The day Laurisa painted her finger nails.... let's see.

I was in Kindergarten when that happened.  The picture on your left dates to 11/16/13.  I was spray painting some pieces of wood at the stable where I volunteer on weekends.  My thumb took a painting when I decided to get fancy with some impromptu stencils:  leaves, sticks, hay, etc.

I learned today that I'm quite the Graffiti artist.

But thinking back, that Kindergarten year I was at a Spring Fling.  The face painting booth was right next to the nail painting booth.  I LOVED getting my face painted.  It tickles so.  Love it.

I got in the wrong line and before I knew what was happening, I was picking out my colors and then Whamo! the woman had my hand and was tickling each finger with a neon brush.

The next thing I can remember is getting up from that chair and walking off in a daze.  A slightly different daze than the normal dizzy daze I doze through each day in.  Some call it being a woman.  I call it, being blond.  Ahem, anyway, I stood there in a daze.   Oh man, what are you gonna do now, Laurisa.  When mom and dad see this, you're gonna get your butt beat.    Tears welled.  You're a sinner!  What does Jesus think of those painted nails.  My conscious is merciless.  Hands went into pockets.  Mind went to working.  The bus ride home was WAY too short.

I stepped quietly into my house, hands clamped into fists to hide the disgusting color.  Mother asked why I was hiding my hands.  I was forced to procure them.

The scolding came down.  I never defended myself.  Luckily, mom had a bottle of nail polish remover.

That summer, I believe it was, my sister Esther and I were outside playing in the patio.  I turned the ledge by the water heater into a Soda Fountain Tap.  The copper wires sticking out of the wall were the PERFECT drink tap. I touched them.  My memory of this is...blurred now.  There was a white mattress I had climbed on to reach these wires.  I remember being thrown back from this mattress and landing hard on my rear on the concrete, dazed, mouth dry and metallic tasting, heart pounding, weakly, then forcefully....

What does it feel like to be electrocuted?  Well, it hurts.  My body ached.  I felt weak and dizzy, dry and stiff.  My heart felt weak and my breath short.  My brain hurt.  When I touched the wire, at the first second, nothing happened.  Life seemed to go in slow motion then... I remember thinking that someone inside the house had turned on a fan.  Something that went back and forth really fast, or spun around and around and around super fast.  I think they call this AC, alternating current.  This was a 240 Volt I believe.  It was for the water heater.  So after feeling as if I was on a rapidly spinning fan, and then hitting the ground, Esther walks into the patio with her play cookery.  She asks what happened.

I tried to be brave.  In Kindergarten, they had told me that if you are shocked, you will die.  I didn't want Esther to know that now I was going to die.  I had to be brave for her.  I had to be strong.

I sneaked inside, holding my whitened burned fingertips.  Mom was doing laundry.  I slunk past into my bedroom, and there, fell to my knees and cried out to heaven for mercy!

"Dear God, please don't let me die!  Don't take me so soon in life!  You can work a miracle for me!!  Please don't let me die."  As I began to think of some way to tell my family goodbye, through notes and gifts, and how to divy up my stuff to my sisters before I passed, mother stepped into the room.

"Laurisa, is everything alright?"

I was forced to tell.  Naturally, mom was very concerned.  But later, after all was taken care of, the story became funny.  Especially the fact that I thought I would die minutes, hours, or days later.

Your LiveOne

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Wednesday, November 6, 2013


So the hunt is over.  I found my ride.  I call it Blondie.  Seemed to fit.  
Blondie is going to take me places.  We'll go to Indiana together... and Pennsylvania... and Georgia... and many other places.  

Blondie is young, strong, and perky, just like me.  It has a sport's car heart with an elegant luxury shell... just like me.  XD 

Oh yes, and we both love taking friends along for the ride.  

Your Blondie