Written by I wrote this poem the morning after my Aunt Janette went to see our Lord. I woke up on Saturday morning and had these words in my mind, waiting to be written. So I sat and I wrote them.
Then on Thursday of this week, I decided to see if I could find the pictures we took at Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Janette’s farm last July. I opened the folder on my computer and I burst in to tears. Because, there she was, my beautiful Aunt Janette, right in front of me. Furthermore, there were pictures of her holding the child’s hand, pictures of her lifting the frail to new heights, and pictures of her happy, healthy, and completely at ease in her element. So I decided to pull a few pictures and put them into a post here including the poem. I took some of these pictures and my daughter Erin took some too.
Where’s that woman who used to embody farm? She would work and still pull off that striking charm There’s an empty spot in the garden over there A place vacated by the mother with golden hair
Aunt Janette leads Jacqueline up to see the calves.
This is how I remember my Aunt Janette. Strong enough to walk alone, but always looking to see who else might benefit from a little help.
With a little boost from Aunt Janette, the frail could fly.
Always happy to see us, my Aunt Janette, and my two daughters, Jacqueline and Erin. 7-25-2012.