True words for All by the fine pen of Robert Frost
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know,
His house is in the village though.
He will not see me stopping here,
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer,
To stop without a farmhouse near,
Between the woods and frozen lake,
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake,
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep,
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
– Robert Frost
What follows is a list of those who have gone before us, this year and last 2008/2009.
Tags: entelechy
Adieu Sir Edmund Hillary
Need To Climb The Mountain
Not finished with that mountain, I need to climb again.
I need a push from you, my long and trusted friend.
I need the verbal challenge, those thoughtful words that teach.
I need the vision ladder for steps that help me reach.
You have the magic power, that lights up all my dark.
You drive the thinking engine, providing the big spark.
Your schedule and my timing, both are out of sync.
I need to climb the mountain, to help me stop and think.
Your seasons always changing, the summers missed my ride.
Your winding path to glory, you tremble deep inside.
The timing needs to change, so I can journey back.
I need to climb the mountain to get us both on track.
Find your mountain in life and visit as much as you can
Adieu Bobby Fischer
Robert James Fischer was born in Chicago, Illinois on March 9, 1943. His father Gerhardt, a German-born physicist, left America when he was two and Bobby and his older sister Joan were brought up by their mother, Regina, who worked as a teacher and a nurse.
In 1949 they moved to Brooklyn, New York, where Bobby won a scholarship to the Erasmus High School. From his earliest days he was regarded as being highly intelligent, competitive and non-conformist.
Fisher, who was 64, suffered kidney failure on Thursday. He had been cared for at his home in Reykjavik, Iceland, where he had lived for the past 15 years.
Adieu, Mummy
Betty Bramwell 1926-2008
Every story has a beginning, middle and an end.
We are here at the end but first in the beginning Betty was born in Eire and spent her childhood days during the war, home in Dublin, which she left to go work in post-war Britain for Lucas™.
There she met my father: my brother Frank and I were born and we first lived as a family in Hockley, Central Birmingham: we left there to come to live in Bartley Green, 55 years ago.
14 years after that Mum & Dad were graced with a daughter, Martina, who became her friend & confidant, a trust shared later with her niece Teresa & her daughter-in-law Marie Line.
Betty weaved many a thread through the fabric of people’s lives and touched the hearts and souls of those who entrusted her with their vestments and raiment; whether they be christening dresses or for marriage, parasols for shade or petticoats, her presence has been felt by many, many people during her years.
At the end she made 2 choices:
She chose to stay at Home where she lived for 55 years, with my father: her husband, friend and companion.
She also chose to eventually return home to Eire and so her ashes will spread over the beaches on the North Strand, Portmarnock, where she first found freedom as a young beautiful girl in the 1930’s.
And so we will leave it now as it is or just leave it be: agus fagamid suid mar ata se
Slan Leat mamai, agus go raibh maith agat. ˜Bye Mum and Thanks.
Martina created the obituary for us in the Birmingham Mail :
BRAMWELL Elizabeth Mary. Passed away peacefully at home on December 6, 2008. Dearly beloved wife of Ken, dearest mother of Richard, Frank and Martina. Will be greatly missed by all her grandchildren and family and friends. Requiem Mass at St. Peters Church, Bartley Green on Thursday, December 18, at 10.00 a.m. Followed by cremation at Redditch 11.45 a.m.
Betty’s Obituary in the Birmingham Mail
Thanks Tina for supporting us all.
Mum was & is very close to you, as she was & is to all of us.
Another poem from the Emerald Isle - where Mum is now.
THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE
By William Butler Yeats
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
1892