A week ago (July 23rd) would have been my fathers 85th birthday...
As I realized this and counted up the years, warm tears stung my eyes with remembrances...
You see, my daddy died 23 years ago and although he has been gone all those years, I still miss him very much and I can still see his face as if it were just yesterday that we were together.
When we die, we don't simply vanish and ceased to exist; we are still alive through someones memories. Someone who cared greatly about us during life.
As I've grown older, I have also become aware that the faces and places that stick within our minds are the ones that are important. They are the ones of whom we cared most about in life. The ones that touched our hearts and our lives and that maybe we left an impression on and touched theirs.
I can still see their faces so clearly in my mind be it someone I saw today or someone I haven't seen for 40 years, if they were important to me, they are still there within my memories, right down to every line that creased their faces or the smile that lingered on their lips at our last meeting... and then I wonder, will they remember me?
When I die and cross over, will they recognise me? I have changed and grown older since our last meeting... but, I still know within my heart that I will know them.
It's that great unknown that has me so preoccupied these days, researching for my next trip into the realms of fantasy that will fill the pages of my next book.
I have always been a very logical person, a home-body that abhors breaks in my routine; but I was given a gift. I've always had the ability to face whatever the universal powers that be have thrown in my path and to help others face whatever they need help facing or to advise them, comfort them and to simply be there for them and others that I care about.
It is within those pages of my writing that I can escape to another place and another time. A place and time that I control. I create characters that I can mold into the people I think they should be; it is a world that I control... and although I reach back through time, to places and events and people I have never met; it is I who create their world and the people and places within this world; a world where fantasy and reality combine to make a place for you and me to escape.
Come visit me and my world within the pages of my books...
Love and Peace be with you all.
{{Hugs}} Susan
She Walks the Night Winds
by: Susan Cobb Beck
available through all major book stores
Soft Cover, Hard Back, Large Print
ISBN: 978-1-60749-375-4
The place besides Facebook to find out what I am up to :) I am the Author of Ten novels and several short stories. My work includes - Annabelle's Diary, Dumping Grounds - Joshua Stokes Mysteries Book 1, Fallout - Joshua Stoke Mysteries Book 2, soon to be Markers - Joshua Stokes Book 3, Tuesday's Gone, Orphan Girl, Beyond the Willow Tree, A Murder in Moffettville, She Walks the Night Winds, A Little Past the Corner of Royal and Main, and The Empty Room.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Untouched - A Poem
Untouched
fragments
bits and pieces
of life
deleted
torn away
floating endlessly
throughout
space and time
will they ever find there way home
can they survive
these ghosts of past lives
dancing with the guiding lights
of beautifully broken spirits
spiritual revivals amid shades of gray
floating into infinity
they roll with the tides of life,
as the ocean flows to the moons rhythm
I want to breathe deeply of the joys of my life sleeping peacefully throughout the nightholding one piece of untouched memory in the palm of my hand...
March 25, 2009 © S. C. Beck aka JustplainolmeAll Rights Reserved. No republication of this material, in any form or medium, is permitted without express permission of the author
fragments
bits and pieces
of life
deleted
torn away
floating endlessly
throughout
space and time
will they ever find there way home
can they survive
these ghosts of past lives
dancing with the guiding lights
of beautifully broken spirits
spiritual revivals amid shades of gray
floating into infinity
they roll with the tides of life,
as the ocean flows to the moons rhythm
I want to breathe deeply of the joys of my life sleeping peacefully throughout the nightholding one piece of untouched memory in the palm of my hand...
March 25, 2009 © S. C. Beck aka JustplainolmeAll Rights Reserved. No republication of this material, in any form or medium, is permitted without express permission of the author
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
A Slice of Southern Life - The Old Picnic Table, at The Country Store...
A Slice of Southern Life - The Old Picnic Table, at The Country Store...
If you head west out of Mobile on Old Shell Road, you will ultimately end up on Tanner Williams Road. If you follow it on out, you will wind up in the West Mobile Community of Tanner Williams, AL.
It was named for the families that first settled this area. A quiet neighborhood, where most folks know each other at least by sight, if not by name.
I am blessed to live in an area where the new does not encroach upon the old as swiftly as it does in some places. Each weekday, as I drive westward through our small community, I cross over one of the prettiest places in lower Alabama; the dam across Big Creek Lake. A mile or so after the dam is the old country store, and each morning I witness the same gathering.
They meet and greet each morning, settling around the picnic table outside the old country store. A weekday ritual they have carried on for many years now, discussing over coffee and the daily newspaper, the ups and downs of everyday life. They discuss the economy, the progress of the fields of cotton, peanuts, corn, and soybeans... or at least that is what I think they talk about.
Some of them been planting and farming, nigh on fifty years... They'll tell you quick how things has changed over the years. How it was when they was coming up. Yet, even though they worry about how they are going to survive and feed their families, they laugh at each others jokes, spin tales, and enjoy the
camaraderie
around the old picnic table, at the Country Store, in their southwest Alabama neighborhood. They inherited farming and cattle ranching from their fathers and grandfathers. For some, it's the only life they've ever known. They do what they know how to do best. Raise crops and cattle, be neighborly and survive each day, around the old picnic table, at the Old Country Store.
March 3, 2009 © Susan C Beck aka Justplainolme
All Rights Reserved. No republication of this material,
in any form or medium, is permitted
If you head west out of Mobile on Old Shell Road, you will ultimately end up on Tanner Williams Road. If you follow it on out, you will wind up in the West Mobile Community of Tanner Williams, AL.
It was named for the families that first settled this area. A quiet neighborhood, where most folks know each other at least by sight, if not by name.
I am blessed to live in an area where the new does not encroach upon the old as swiftly as it does in some places. Each weekday, as I drive westward through our small community, I cross over one of the prettiest places in lower Alabama; the dam across Big Creek Lake. A mile or so after the dam is the old country store, and each morning I witness the same gathering.
They meet and greet each morning, settling around the picnic table outside the old country store. A weekday ritual they have carried on for many years now, discussing over coffee and the daily newspaper, the ups and downs of everyday life. They discuss the economy, the progress of the fields of cotton, peanuts, corn, and soybeans... or at least that is what I think they talk about.
Some of them been planting and farming, nigh on fifty years... They'll tell you quick how things has changed over the years. How it was when they was coming up. Yet, even though they worry about how they are going to survive and feed their families, they laugh at each others jokes, spin tales, and enjoy the
camaraderie
around the old picnic table, at the Country Store, in their southwest Alabama neighborhood. They inherited farming and cattle ranching from their fathers and grandfathers. For some, it's the only life they've ever known. They do what they know how to do best. Raise crops and cattle, be neighborly and survive each day, around the old picnic table, at the Old Country Store.
March 3, 2009 © Susan C Beck aka Justplainolme
All Rights Reserved. No republication of this material,
in any form or medium, is permitted
Friday, May 8, 2009
Searching
Searching...
It was just a few years ago, that I was romping and stomping through my youthful years. You know, they are gone before we know it, aren't they. I read a friends blog this morning and he was wondering why, he was drinking and smoking himself into an early grave... I really don't have an answer for that, probably no one but the good Lord can answer that; but it got me to thinking on folks that I have known personally over the years, that did the same thing. Some of em very close and I believe, it's because we are all searching for something. We were born as hunters/gatherers and now we don't have much to hunt and gather. It's a convenient life we have these days. Everything at our finger tips; but that don't mean we still have it easy, because some of us still don't.I'm content in my personal life; well as much as I can be anyway; but I've always been searching...Searching for something to fill that void; the one, that no matter how much I put into it, it still lacks something. I've never in my life, seen any one person, that was completely content with their life. Even my sweet little old grandma that was in her eighties when she died; but I did see something in her, that I hope to be able to accomplish myself when my time comes, and that's acceptance. You have to be able to except what life throws at you.Catch it with both hands and hold onto it, until it's time to let go and when that time comes; let it go! I smoke; and I've hung onto them all these years... I'm just not ready, to turn em loose.As for fulfillment. It's just a word... or is it?When I turned into a teenager; I thought "Yeah" I'm grown! but I wasn't.When I married and had children; there was still the void.When I searched out my ancestors and fulfilled my grandmothers wishes; I was still half empty...I thought, when I wrote these books and poems; that I would be fulfilled. I thought when one was accepted for publication, I would be satisfied and my mind would slow down; but it hasn't...I can't stop writing! I don't want to stop, even long enough to promote my book, which is being released the 27th of June. Even that date, sets my mind off on another journey... it's my g-grandfathers birthday. Is that a good sign?I'm scared; that if I leave it, "what I am in the process of writing;" it will go away... sink deeply into that void and forever be lost, into the emptiness there... that still hungers for fulfillment. Does that make any kind of sense?I'll probably be absent again. I'm still trying to fulfill that quota; write down all these stories, that just won't let me leave em be. Least ways, I reckon; I'll forever be searching...
May 6, 2009 © S. C. Beck aka Justplainolme All Rights Reserved. No republication of this material, in any form or medium, is permitted without express permission of the author
It was just a few years ago, that I was romping and stomping through my youthful years. You know, they are gone before we know it, aren't they. I read a friends blog this morning and he was wondering why, he was drinking and smoking himself into an early grave... I really don't have an answer for that, probably no one but the good Lord can answer that; but it got me to thinking on folks that I have known personally over the years, that did the same thing. Some of em very close and I believe, it's because we are all searching for something. We were born as hunters/gatherers and now we don't have much to hunt and gather. It's a convenient life we have these days. Everything at our finger tips; but that don't mean we still have it easy, because some of us still don't.I'm content in my personal life; well as much as I can be anyway; but I've always been searching...Searching for something to fill that void; the one, that no matter how much I put into it, it still lacks something. I've never in my life, seen any one person, that was completely content with their life. Even my sweet little old grandma that was in her eighties when she died; but I did see something in her, that I hope to be able to accomplish myself when my time comes, and that's acceptance. You have to be able to except what life throws at you.Catch it with both hands and hold onto it, until it's time to let go and when that time comes; let it go! I smoke; and I've hung onto them all these years... I'm just not ready, to turn em loose.As for fulfillment. It's just a word... or is it?When I turned into a teenager; I thought "Yeah" I'm grown! but I wasn't.When I married and had children; there was still the void.When I searched out my ancestors and fulfilled my grandmothers wishes; I was still half empty...I thought, when I wrote these books and poems; that I would be fulfilled. I thought when one was accepted for publication, I would be satisfied and my mind would slow down; but it hasn't...I can't stop writing! I don't want to stop, even long enough to promote my book, which is being released the 27th of June. Even that date, sets my mind off on another journey... it's my g-grandfathers birthday. Is that a good sign?I'm scared; that if I leave it, "what I am in the process of writing;" it will go away... sink deeply into that void and forever be lost, into the emptiness there... that still hungers for fulfillment. Does that make any kind of sense?I'll probably be absent again. I'm still trying to fulfill that quota; write down all these stories, that just won't let me leave em be. Least ways, I reckon; I'll forever be searching...
May 6, 2009 © S. C. Beck aka Justplainolme All Rights Reserved. No republication of this material, in any form or medium, is permitted without express permission of the author
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