Sunday in Church , I prayed for an end to my sister’s suffering. The cancer and the treatments had ravaged her body. She was afraid to die and very sad. I could feel the passing would be soon.
I was already very sad as it was it was the anniversary of my oldest son’s death.
I paced from room to room. I paced around the church.
I prayed. At bedtime waves of
anxiety overwhelmed me as I lay on my bed in a fetal position.
Dreams of my parents who had gone before and my long lost son chased me through corridors of another dimension.
I woke up with a start at 3:32 for water or to relive myself.
I shuddered remembering my dreams. I prayed again for comfort for my little sister before collapsing back into fitful sleep.
When daylight filtered through the moon window above my bed, I dared look at the phone on the nightstand.
The call had come, muffled by the sound of artificial waves that rock me to sleep each night
The call I’d dreaded and expected.
My little sister was no longer wracked with pain.
Her smile returned-accompanied by Angel wings.
© Nancilynn Saylor June 2018
The scent of this morning’s
Fresh plucked Magnolia blossom
Fills the room tonight.
One of my favorites…
One I cannot explain to my own satisfaction,
Much less to another.
Tonight, I am reminded of the first time I smelled Magnolia and how the adrenaline swelled through my body while Angels infused the air.
Lemon scented paradise…
It’s different tonight . I cannot lose the lump in my throat no matter how much I swallow.
The scent of Angels this Spring will remind me of my sister who lays dying
Bravely fighting the cancer ravaging her already frail form. Tears scald my cheeks as
I lift the bloom-filled globe to inhale the smell of Heaven that awaits her.
Nancilynn Saylor 2 June 2018
Face first between rooms
Knees greet porcelain cold floor-
Family called me “Grace.”
I lie in bed gazing at the full moon staring back at me through a crescent window high on my bedroom wall. It has been the same for twenty seven years now…my personal time with the dark sky.
In twenty seven years, 324 full moons plus a few extra blue moons. Interesting, yet trivial knowledge from this moon child.
My mind drifts to those few I’ve shared this magic with-most all of them gone from this tiny speck of a planet in an insignificant universe.
“Come here,” I call out to the other room; Romeo comes to watch another moonrise with me.
31 January 2018
January 7, 2018
The new year is scarcely a week old but already my family swells with the birth of my newest great-granddaughter this afternoon. I was asked several months ago to help with the finding of a great name for a girl as I felt all along this would be a girl. My name choice was Rosalie Grace. Her mom decided on Brianna Grace, and as Grace is my family’s nickname for me, she is sort of named after me.
She arrived weighing 7lbs. and 13 ounces, 20 1/4 inches long. As you can see in the picture, she has a full head of black hair. Welcome to the family, Brianna Grace!
© Nancilynn Saylor 7 January 2018.
We recently completed our most recent trip around the Sun another year encoded in the history book of life
as we know it on this small blue oasis in the milky way in my world the temperate weather had streaks of cold, icy weeks, even snow. Though aches in my old bones, I still managed to have a sparkle in these eyes as the memories of winters past moved through my memory bringing a glow with the remembering…
Last night, a Super Moon shivered in the January sky. I smiled as I watched her glow in the gauzy watercolor night even as I struggled to sleep. Let’s all buckle in for our newest journey into the wide open.
©Nancilynn Saylor 3 January 2018
Today we celebrate our son, Mike on the occasion of his 46th birthday.
He was not with us
for so many birthdays
Lost in a world where mom's and
Dads don't go
except in the nightmares
Of their minds when sleep curls up in
a cold corner of the dark room
And they can only stare silently at the
Ceiling, while the whirring fan seems
to mark the months on invisible
We joyfully celebrate his love and his gentle spirit
Thankful for his presence across the dinner table
he is in arms reach and but
a heartbeat away.
Happy birthday, sweet child o' mine!
© Nancilynn Saylor
14 December 2017