Bah! Humbug or Maybe The Dickens With It by Betty Ann Fisher

Bah! Humbug or Maybe The Dickens With It
by Betty Ann Fisher

Though Santa’s on the rooftop
With his reindeer hitched to sleigh
I’m convinced his trip is non-stop
And he’ll head the other way.

The stores are filled with bustle
And shoppers in a rush
Theirs is a test of muscle
And their manners make me blush.

This year’s cards all leave me cold
Show naught of Season’s meaning.
Angels in modern dress are bold
Some at a lamp post leaning.

I long for Cherubs garbed in white
With faces which are meek
And Wise Men of that Holy Night
Not thugs with tongue in cheek

Where’s the heartfelt spirit told?
The joy of love and giving?
What of the shepherd tending fold?
How come these times we’re living?

It surely will be Christmas though
Wherever stars come out
To light the way across the snow
Of that there is no doubt.

Contentment, peace and happiness have been mine and God has been so good to me with joy and laughter in greater measure than tears.

I can’t believe my mother wrote this. She basically set me up to think of her all the time! She wrote this years before she died, but you really can feel her life presence throughout.  My mother-in l–aw read it at Mom’s wake. I am so lucky to have so many wonderful writings that my mom left me….even if so many make me cry!

Most Dearly Beloved

Mourn me not when I have left this earthly place—for I have enjoyed each precious hour and day and season—the first sign of spring, summers’ warmth, birdsong, nighttime sounds, mourning awakenings, autumns’ glow, and winter sunsets, first snowfalls.

My riches were boundless. Beloved parents who gave me all that made me worthwhile—an undeserved, but patient, kind and noble man to be my spouse—a sweet and gentle brother to love, respect and cherish through all the years—three precious, honorable, stalwart, thoughtful and loving sons—each unique and marvelous—each God’s special gift to me from the day they were born. My fringe benefits along with all else—the loyal, loving, understanding, friends of youth and later years.

I ask only happy memories that all of us have shared—and that a prayer be said for me in springtime—near flowing brooks and frothy streams—at sunsets, at moonrise—when lilacs bloom after summer rainfall—now and then at eventide when daily tasks are done—on Christmas Eve perhaps—on Easter moon—whenever soft winds rustle the leaves-when stars come out and always when church bells ring—when trees grow tall and nearly touch the clouds.

Contentment, peace and happiness have been mine and God has been so good to me with joy and laughter in greater measure than tears.

Love each of you ad infinitum.

Betty Ann Fisher

Two Poems my Mom wrote about her Mom, yet they are true about how I feel as well.

Whenever I’m happy I’ll wish that she could share, and when I’m sad I’ll long for the comfort that only she could give. For my triumphs—if only she might prideful be and my faults could help correct. When someone else says, “Mother” I’ll remember mine.

My Truly Special Mom

by Betty Ann Fisher

And when she smiled—
‘Twas as if the world was new,
And when she laughed
Our troubles all seemed few.

She cried but seldom
And ah, she hid the tears
Or wiped them quickly
That none would know her fears.

If steep her path,
She wore no outward sorrow
But kept the ache within herself
Not bitter on the morrow.

She’d never stoop to deed unkind
Nor would she hurt another
Nor hold a grudge within her heart
My sweet and gentle Mother.

IN MEMORY OF MOM

by Betty Ann Fisher

A fitting tribute to her memory—a statue struck in bronze? An impressive gravestone in the churchyard? Which of these shall I choose?

I think that I shall always remember her in the first bright flush of dawn, whenever I see a clump of Lilies of the Valley in a quiet glade, when the first Crocus peeks above the ground, in the scent of early Lilacs, when the first Robin makes his appearance, when the earth smells sweet after a summer shower, when the trees swish in a gentle breeze, when I hear a Bob White call.

When the smell of autumn is in the air, when the first frost sets the leaves aflame, when snowflakes fall from Heaven, and when the sunset comes. I’ll remember her when I hear the laughter of children at play or see nuns at prayer. When I hear a lullabye, when a music box tinkles a merry tune. Whenever I smell Violets, I’ll feel that she is near. And when the thaw sets free the mountain brooks and streams, I’ll think of her.

When church bells ring at Easter-tide, when Christmas carols are sung, when I see a cozy kitchen or a warm and glowing hearth, when a kettle sings on a stove, when the crickets chirp and when the stars come out.

Whenever I’m happy I’ll wish that she could share, and when I’m sad I’ll long for the comfort that only she could give. For my triumphs—if only she might prideful be and my faults could help correct. When someone else says, “Mother” I’ll remember mine.

Dismay in December by Betty Ann Fisher

Dismay in December
by Betty Ann Fisher

All the rubble ’round me lies
All shot to Heck before my eyes.
The trigger’s bent on that big gun
He thinks I’ll buy another one
The poor stuffed dog has lost his nose
And someone stepped on the turtle’s toes.

He broke the pedal of the trike
The one I was so sure he’d like
The new rug’s all marked up with glue
Those Sparkle paints were something new
The power saw and bench were nice
But they’re all fouled up from slicing ice.

The chemistry set was just delightful
But the smell , my dear, was simply frightful
The test tubes are all broken now
There’s not much left from the awful row
Over who was going to eat the cake
That the small guy made with the Easy-Bake.

Santa’s gone for another year
I’ve had my fill of joy and cheer
In case he plans on coming back
He can take the things in his big pack
To someone else’s sons and nieces
Or else stay around to mend the pieces.

From the book, Please Delay Departure

Moms Obit

FISHER, Elizabeth (Rein) “Betty Ann” Of Walpole, formerly of Norwood, December 10, age 87, passed at her home surrounded by her family after a long illness. Beloved wife of the late Allyn H. Devoted mother of Scott J. and his partner Michael Cordeiro of Walpole, and the late Douglas A. of Brunswick, ME, and Wayne S. of Norwood. Cherished sister of Edward Rein and his wife Dorothy of Grand Haven, MI. Loving grandmother of Brian Fisher and his wife Marion of Westboro and Daniel Fisher and his wife Lindsay of Portland, ME. Also survived by 4 great grandchildren, many loving nieces, nephews, and friends. Visiting hours will be held Tuesday morning from 9-11 at the Alexander F. Thomas & Sons Funeral Home, 45 Common St., WALPOLE, followed by a Service at the Funeral Home at 11. Relatives and friends invited. Interment at Highland Cemetery, Norwood. Betty Ann was an avid tennis player and writer. In 2005 she published a book of her poems called, “Please Delay Departure.” In lieu of flowers all donations can be made to Walpole Visiting Nurses, 55 West St., Walpole 02081. For directions and guestbook please visit thomasfuneralhomes.com Alexander F. Thomas & Sons F.H. Walpole 508-668-0154

Please Delay Departure by Betty Ann Fisher

Please Delay Departure

I thank the Lord for every day
That I am here on earth, and pray
He wont decide to let me go
Before I see the Autumn glow.

And after that I pray again
That I can stay around for when
The earth is blanketed in white
And then to see each starry night.

He knows I ‘ll ask for one more thing
That I’ll be here to see the Spring
To greet each morning bright and new
And then, of course, there’s Summer too.

When warm winds whisper in the trees
And flowers are a-hum with bees
I’ll want to hear the church bells chime
Oh yes, I like the summer time.

I wonder if He’ll think it fair
If I send up another pray’r
That after I have romped in clover
I’ll still be here when Summer’s over.

I’d like to witness, Autumn’s show
And then I really love the snow
And then Spring sunlight on my cheek
It’s just Eternal life I seek.

From Mom’s Book, Please Delay Departure

Most Dearly Beloved

Mourn me not when I have left this earthly place—for I have enjoyed each precious hour and day and season—the first sign of spring, summers’ warmth, birdsong, nighttime sounds, mourning awakenings, autumns’ glow, and winter sunsets, first snowfalls.

My riches were boundless. Beloved parents who gave me all that made me worthwhile—an undeserved, but patient, kind and noble man to be my spouse—a sweet and gentle brother to love, respect and cherish through all the years—three precious, honorable, stalwart, thoughtful and loving sons—each unique and marvelous—each God’s special gift to me from the day they were born. My fringe benefits along with all else—the loyal, loving, understanding, friends of youth and later years.

I ask only happy memories that all of us have shared—and that a prayer be said for me in springtime—near flowing brooks and frothy streams—at sunsets, at moonrise—when lilacs bloom after summer rainfall—now and then at eventide when daily tasks are done—on Christmas Eve perhaps—on Easter moon—whenever soft winds rustle the leaves-when stars come out and always when church bells ring—when trees grow tall and nearly touch the clouds.

Contentment, peace and happiness have been mine and God has been so good to me with joy and laughter in greater measure than tears.

Love each of you ad infinitum.

Betty Ann