Saturday, April 18, 2009

THE I DON'T CARES

4-18-09...THE I DON'T CARES

Did you ever have the feeling, I DON'T CARE? It is a horrible feeling and I hate it when I have it. I think it is really self pity rearing it's ugly head up in my life. I really hate it with a purple passion.
I've been thinking Why ME? Well heck fire Why not Me? I don't have the corner on happiness, peace, and contentment, no one does. So I believe when I say why me I'm wishing it was someone else with my problems, and I'm ticked off because I can't get rid of them and dump them on the people who hurt me. That seems like the fair thing to do doesn't it? Good Grief, here I was minding my own business and I get hit from all sides like a tornado tossing me about. Is that fair? No, but would it be fair if I wished it on someone else? No, that would be a sin. I've been taught right from wrong but everyone don't have that advantage. I've always survived but is there supposed to come a day when I don't have to fight so hard to survive anymore? Well the answer to that is simple, Sure, the time will come when I get to Heaven. But right now I'm here on this wicked earth and the forces get so strong sometimes I want to give up and say No More, Thats it, I don't care any more. Well that is what The Don't Cares are all about. I have them and I hate it!
At times like these I have to reach up and hold on to Gods Hand. Then I always reach back and draw more strength from my wonderful past and the Parents who raised me to be tough and strong in times of adversity.
I've seen tears in my Daddy's eyes when he couldn't give me something that I wanted badly. Sometimes I know he was devastated because he couldn't stop a heartache for me at times, but he could hold me in his strong arms and comfort me and tell me it would get better. I've seen Mama struggle to find enough for us to eat sometimes, and I remember how she could make a bowl of mashed potatoes seem like a feast to me. Even a bowl of oatmeal became special when mama added vanilla flavoring to it especially for me because I didn't want oatmeal. My Parents took me to Church and Sunday School where I learned from the ways of God. That is a basic for young minds. But The Church, or the school also need supporting Parents at home to really guide a child. I had the best. So I didn't learn self pity and the don't cares. Nope I choose to feel that way every time it comes on me.
This morning I can see my Parents sweet faces as the strived and worked to make me what I am now. They would not be ashamed or disappointed in me today. They would hold me close and tell me it will get better. God tells me that to. I am a little ashamed of myself today. I am overwhelmed by adversity, but It Will Get Better, This Too Will Pass, I'm tougher that that and I'd better just take hold of myself and stop this. Thank You Mama and Daddy for all you have done for me. I feel your presence still saying, "Get up, dust your britches off, and get going. YEP!!!

Friday, April 17, 2009

WASH DAY

4-16-09...WASH DAY

Mama washed clothes on the back porch with an old wringer washing machine .

The water was drawn from a well and heated on the stove in the kitchen. The washer had to be full of hot water. There were two wash tubs for rinsing. If you are familiar with the way the washers worked you know that it would agitate until you were ready to stop it.

The clothes were then picked up from the hot soapy water and fed through the wringer coming out into the first rinse tub which had warm water. Each piece was sloshed around in the water. The ringer was then rotated around between the two tubs and this was done the second time. The second tub has Mrs. Stewarts bluing in it to help whiten the clothes. The clothes were run through the wringer for the third time and out into a container which was carried out to the clothes line to hang the clothes to dry. It was quiet a production and took most of that day.

Of course I was on the porch with Mama. This day I wasn't helping as I did in later years but was there so Mama could watch me.

Mama had long hair. As she was bending over feeding the clothes through once her hair got caught in the wringer. I can barely remember this but I heard Mama tell it many times.

The washer was plugged in to a extension cord laying over in the corner. Our lights hung from the ceiling and of course no plug ins on the walls. Hence the extension cords.

The ringer of course kept going with Mamas hair caught in it. She couldn't get to the cord to unplug the washer so she was trying to get me to do it for her. Well Heck fire I had been told to never touch those things and here was Mama telling me to do it. I was a bit confused of course. When Mama kept standing there saying “Ouch, Oh God help me, Clydene get the plug and pull it, Ouch”. Well I got tickled. Heck fire, I thought it was a game or something and I was having a ball not knowing Mama was in serious trouble.

I don't know how long it went on but every time Mama would shriek I would just giggle harder. I heard Daddy say later it couldn't have been long or Mamas hair would have been pulled out.

Mama finally managed to get her foot in the cord and jerk it loose. Then she had to release the wringer which also looked funny to me with Mama standing there with her head against the wringer struggling to release it.

When she did get loose I saw tears in her eyes and some blood which squelched my giggle fit in a hurry. Now I was scared and I started crying. Mama held me close with us both crying and told me she was OK.

Bless My sweet Mamas heart. She had a terrible headache and that dad blasted wringer did get a hunk of her hair.

Things were much harder back then and I know my Mama and Daddy both worked very hard. I appreciate it more and more every day. I know it was never easy for them now but I didn't know that then and they didn't want my Brother and I to know. We were loved and protected by those two wonderful Parents that God placed us with. We came first always. They earned all the respect we could give them and more. I miss those sweet people more each day I live!!!!

I CALLED HER STINKER

4-15-09...I CALLED HER STINKER

There is an sorta' odd or different couple who live down the road who have a bunch of dogs. They don't really take care of them and they roam all over. There was this small dog (a female) not very old who came up with 4 little puppies. Well the guy was attempting to get rid of the puppies by killing them. He told my husband at the mailbox one day that there was one puppy left that he hadn't been able to find. A day or two later I found the little thing, puny and weak in my barn. I have a Poodle who is very possessive of me and knew I didn't need or want another dog. So )i'm ashamed to admit this) I just walked out and tried to forget the puppy. Then the next morning I started out my back door and there she was under the step trembling and whining. My heart just melted and I couldn't stand it. I fed and watered the little thing, put flea and tick drops on her and brought her in to introduce to Moses (my poodle) Moses snarled up and tried to bite her so I put her back out by the step and made her a soft bed. Fot three mornings she was still there waiting for me with her whole body wagging. I took this pic. of her on my foot one morning.

She won my heart. No one is going to kill my LITTLE STINKER. I brough her in for several days and let Moses get used to her. Or tried to get him used to her. He wasn't making Friends very fast. This morning I sat on my deck with my coffee and brought Stinker with me. Moses came too and in about an hour Moses still hated her. My husband didn't want her either but I just couldn't bear to see her die. After lunch one day I again sat on the deck with iced tea, and again brought Stinker and Moses with me. My hubby came out. I got him a glass of iced tea and he sat there trying to ignore Stinker. He wouldn't make friends with her either. I was devastated and didn't know what to do. I tried one day to give her to one of my neighbors. No she didn't want the poor little thing either but she called me the next day and gave me a number for someone that was looking for a dog like Stinker. I called the number and the lady came right away and picked her up. I had mixed feelings as I watched them drive away with Stinker. I knew I couldn't keep her but I had gotten attached to her. But I believe I found her a good home and I'm so happy about that. As to how she got all the way up here and in my barn: All I can figure out is Her Mom brought her up here and gave her to us so she would be safe from the "KILLER" I believe that is the right answer. DON'T YOU??? I know the poor little thing didn't come up here on her own and leave her Mom. The Mom never came to our house after that so I'm sure she left her little baby here for me to rescue. Thats how Moms are. They protect their young!! Yep

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

I LOVE PURPLE

4-14-09...I LOVE PURPLE

At some time in my life I got 'fixed' on purple. My gosh my brain is all washed with it. If it is purple I want it. I have been known to buy things I don't need just because it is purple. All shades of purple are appealing to me. At one time all my bath and bed linens were purple. Now to my dismay the color is very hard to find.
In my first house I wanted my bedroom purple so bad. Well it wasn't deep purple but it wound up being lavender.
A few years ago I went in a big store. I have no idea what I went in there for. When I walked in the door my eyes glued on a sparkling display toward the back. I didn't know what it was but I saw a section of purples. Like a homing pigeon, or the cows coming home maybe I honed in and made a beeline for that purple. I hope no one was in my way because I would have probably run over them.
When I got there my eyes almost popped out of my head. Sitting there before me was the most beautiful bottles of lilac colored perfume I had ever seen. The bottle was tall and had a purple lid on the top that looked like crystal. Inside was a beautiful lilac colored liquid all shimmery with little glittery object that seemed to be floating around among purple violets. Oh My! My mouth was almost watering. I had to have some of this. I took two bottles off the counter and almost flew up to the check out stand. I know I must have been grinning from ear to ear. I grabbed up the bottles as soon as she scanned them, paid for them and told her I didn't need a bag for them.
I probably looked stupid walking to my car staring in to those bottles grinning like a Cheshire cat. Heck I didn't care I had me a bottle of the most beautiful liquid I had even seen.
I got in the car with my treasures and decided to spray some on me when I remembered I had not even smelled it yet. Did it smell good? Well heck it had to it was purple wasn't it?
I held it up and pushed down on the spray nozzle and it came out in a stream. It was running down my arm and on to my lap and in to my car seat. It wouldn't quit streaming until I pulled the nozzle off. And that was when I smelled it for the first time. It smelled like a skunk! I smelled like a skunk! My car smelled like a skunk! Oh Good Grief what do I do now?
I drove home almost choking on that horrible smell. I took three showers but still stunk. I washed my clothes but they still stunk. My car stunk for about 6 months. I would open all four doors and leave them open on windy days cold or hot.
I threw the offensive bottle out on the way home. (Litter Bug!) The other bottle was never uncapped but I still have it. It is still beautiful if you don't have to smell it.
Most purple things I have bought didn't leave a lasting impression like that did. But I'm still hooked on purple and if I see it I go to it and Ohh and Ahh. I love purple. YEP!

TRUE FRIEND BAD SEEDS

4-14-09...TRUE FRIEND BAD SEEDS

TRUE FRIEND

Having a friend like you is knowing
That you are always there for me.
We can talk or not say a word.
Share bad times or times of glee.
It is knowing within my heart,
When you are Praying on my behalf.
It is that feeling that I have
Whether I cry or laugh.
It's knowing that you understand
When I'm happy or when I'm sad.
And I don't have to tell you, you just know
when I need you or times are bad.
It's knowing you'll still love me
even if I'm not lovable today,
and you'll love me just for me,
Disregard things I might say.
Yes, you are a real true friend
and I thank God for you.
And I just Pray I'll always be
that kind of friend for you too.

© January 2009
Clydene Overbey

BAD SEEDS

When I plant a garden, all in neat rows.
It is such a wonder as I wait to watch it grow.
A tiny seed I drop. Into the earthly sod.
It burst forth in all it glory
a root, a plant, from GOD.
For god is the only one who could make a little seed
grow in it's abundance. For our bodies meet a need.
Lord help me to remember as I plant my garden today,
To sow my other seeds, kindness, understanding, & words I say.
For one tiny seed of malice can grow into mighty weeds
that destroy a life, a soul, Lord stay me from bad seeds
.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

OLD GOLD WEDDING BAND

4-11-09...OLD GOLD WEDDING BAND

I have a wide gold wedding band on that was given to me by my Mama just before she died. She told me to put it on right there in front of her. I didn't want to because I thought it looked like I thought she was dying and I didn't want to think about that. But she insisted so I did and it has not been off of my finger since. I am the 5th generation to wear it. I don't have a daughter so I will give it to my brother one day. Norman has two sons and no daughter. It will be given to his first son and eventually to his daughter. She will be the 7th generation to wear it. It is still thick and in good shape. Things were made of better quality then. Below is what Mama wrote in Dec of 2000 before she got to sick to do it. It tells the story of this amazing ring. WOW!!!

MAMAS HIDDEN TREASURES

4-11-09...MAMAS HIDDEN TREASURES

It was a hard time when Mama died as is expected. We were losing our best friend. The lady who gave birth to us and raised us up. Fed us from her own body, kept us clean and warm.
When Norman and I went to clean out Mamas apartment we found so many things to keep in memory of her. One was a casset tape that Mama had recorded. She sang to us, played her harmonica, (she called it a french harp) read things, and just talked. We never knew this existed. We found poems she had written, little journal like books she had recorded things in, and in general just a treasure trove of things that came from my Mamas heart.
I think the most precious thing was a letter she had written to god shown below. As you can see by the date she wrote this in 1952. I was eight and Norman had just turned four. Another thing we had never seen before.
All these things are very precious to us now. On the cassett we have her voice and playing and singing. On the letter to God we have her words in her own handwriting. WOW!!!!






CHANGES

4-10-09...CHANGES

I don't like change. That is probably an understatement. I detest change, I fight change. My Daddy used to say, “If it aint broke don't fix it”. Now how much more simple can that be stated? Why in the heck do people work so hard to make things more difficult? Just get it done and go on to the next thing.
One example it all these ads on TV and in newspapers, NEW AND INPROVED. Improved? Heck no they aint improved! I'd love to have a 6oz. Bottle of coke the way they used to make it before they new and improved it and changed the recipe. If I had one I'd get me a big ol' Baby Ruth candy bar. Yummy. Then I'd get me a Popsicle, one of those big two stick banana Popsicles and let it run down my arm as it melts, then lick it off my arm. YEP! I'd also like to go in a store and find what I want right where it was yesterday. Now why in the heck would you move the paper products over there by the towels and sheets Makes no sense to me. One of the employees, who usually remains hidden from view, heard me exclaim one day after I'd walked around for what seemed like forever trying to find printer paper, Well this makes me so mad, This store don't even have paper anymore”. Well she came out of nowhere and guided me right to the paper over by the towels. I didn't even ask why it was there but it is back where it was now so others must have complained or they just came to their senses (which I doubt.) I did say I was sorry to the clerk but she looked at me like I had two heads or something. Guess people don't know what I'm sorry means anymore.
Then when I got home I had to call and order some medicine. Now you know that you just don't get to talk to a real live human any more. Shoot fire no, thats a thing of the past. I had their responses down pat. Knew which number to punch on the phone for my answers, had memorized all of it to save me a lot of aggravation. It was almost easy to me now. Well they answered and said, “Thanks for calling your on line Pharmacy please be aware that our menu has changed and pay close attention.” Well Good Grief, I had my finger ready to do the walking right on through this transaction and I got flustered trying to keep up with, “Sorry, we did not recognize your response. Please go back to the main menu and try again”. “When you hear the sound push the pound key, Please try again.” GRRRRR!!!!! I hung up and placed the call again. Listened to all that crap again and punched in numbers again. Then, “If you are having trouble please hang up and call,” Then a long string of numbers came over the line that I tried desperately to write down. Right in the middle of all that my phone started beeping in my ear telling me I had a call waiting. I couldn't catch any of the numbers after that. I checked to see who was calling me and it was the gosh dang on line pharmacy that I had on the other line trying to understand. Of course it was another recorded message saying. “We are sorry but our on line pharmacy is experiencing problems right now, if you need your meds' dial*** Well that's when I hung up again and fought the urge to throw the phone across the room and proceed to pull all my kinky hair out!!! If I need my meds'? Well of course I need my meds'. Why in the world would I be calling if I didn't need my cotton pickin' meds. Durn educated fools anyway. My insurance company changed too for the worse when they decided this was the best way to get my medicine. Best for who?? Why in the heck can't I just walk in Wal Mart and hand them my prescription like any sane person would do?
This world is crazy I tell you. Change, change, change. All those educated fools are just getting too big for their britches to my way of thinking. They don't know anything about real people because they are not real. They've got so much knowledge in their swelled heads that their brains have got squeezed outta there. Yep. I got the whole thinf figured out. So why don't they listen? I done told you, their brains are all pinched up in their over sized heads that it forgot how to function in the real world. Yep! That's the way I see it.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

TRIP BACK IN TIME

4-6-09...TRIP BACK IN TIME

When I was about 6 yrs. Old my Papa Thomas asked my Daddy to take him to see his Aunt Samarah. Papa called her Sa-mari. She was 90 yrs. Old and lived in the home place in Swain Ar. with her Daughter Rhoda (RODY) and one of her sons. I can't recall his name. The house was way up in the mountains across hills and around curves. I remember thinking that we would never get there and if we did we would never find our way home again. The roads are paved now but then they were dirt roads full of pot holes and ruts. Daddy had a 51 Chevy. It was summer and of course no AC in cars then so the windows were all down. Daddy of course was driving and Papa in front with him. Mama sat in the back with my little Brother Norman and I. Papa had a dip of snuff in his mouth as usual. He would spit out the window and it would spray me through the back window where I sat behind him. Mama rolled up my window and cleaned me off best she could. I was hot and fussed about my window not being down. Norman was only two and he was squirming and being fussy. I know now what a terrible trip that must have been for Mama.
We did finally get there of course. I was fascinated with that old house. It was long with a hallway right down the middle that was open at both ends. Inside it was hot. Rhoda was cooking dinner on a wood cooking stove. Aunt Samarah was sitting in the other part of the house in a rocker. Her hair was snow white and hung down to her waist. She was still a spry lady with a smile that lit up her face. Boy did she keep that rocker going. The room seemed huge to me. Lots of windows and no curtains. Papa had said they were so fer' down in the holler no one to look in their winders' ceptin' maybe a bear. I had asked Mama many times that day if we were gonna' be home before dark and she assured me we were. The floors were wooden with no covering but I remember that floor shining like a new penny. The ceilings were high and I mean high. I don't remember seeing a light hanging from them like we had at home so I guess they had no electricity. Well heck we hadn't had it very long ourselves. On one whole wall was the biggest fireplace I had ever seen. A bear rug was lying in front of it. I wasn't too sure at first that thing wasn't real but finally sat on it and even ventured to pet it on the head and even took a nap on it before the day was over.
I ventured in the kitchen and was watching Rhoda. I was a picky eater but I ate that day for some reason. Rhoda asked me if I wanted to go with her to the smoke house. Sure I did. We went out a side door and down kind of aisle connected from the house to the smoke house. I remember thinking it was a tunnel. Rhoda opened the door to the smoke house and it smelled smoky. There was meat hanging from the rafters. I knew about the sugar cured meat. I don't remember what meat Rhoda got but I remember thinking it was good when I ate it. From there she opened a door in the floor and we went down in to the root cellar. Rhoda asked me what I wanted from there. I really didn't want any of it but I selected a jar of corn and one of pickled beets which I did eat later. Rhoda made biscuits and I watched her for a while but grew bored. I asked if I could go in that hallway down the middle of the house. I loved it there because a nice breeze was coming in both ends. It was a wonderful day that I will never forget.
Years later I became familiar with the stories of my Aunt Samarah and her Daughter Rhoda. Aunt Samarah was married four times and outlived them all. One of her husbands had raped Rhoda when she was very young. Aunt Samarah's Daddy had him prosecuted and he was sent to Tucker Prison Farm in Little Rock Ar. In 1893. He died there. Rhoda had married and her husband died soon after. They has no children and Rhoda never remarried.
Aunt Samarah had been a fisty lady and worked like a man even when she was carrying her three children. They had to be tough then.
The picture below shows Samarah way before I met her. When I saw her she was very skinny and had wasted away. She died in 1955.
I will never forget that visit. Just a few years ago I was back at that old house. No one lived there and it was very run down. There were lots of housed down the road to that holler where before there were none. It looked sad and neglected and burned down recently. Oh what stories that old house could have told. Bushwhackers had come to it one night. They had floods and were poor but lived a rich life in that house. I wish I had taken a picture of it when I was back there. It held a part of my history.

Monday, April 6, 2009

FAMILY IN 1948




4-5-09...FAMILY IN 1948

Here is my family in 1948. Norman was only a few months old. This is the only family picture we ever had made at a studio by professionals. That was 60 years ago when things were simple and sweet. I remember Mama's dress. It was green. Daddy bought it in Oklahoma where he worked in the coal mines. He came home on weekends and always brought Norman and I something. This time Mama got a new dress also. Daddy wore khaki shirts and pants in a light brown color. My dress was yellow with green trim. Norman also had on yellow.
I cherish this picture. It is a part of my life that I will never forget. When I look at it I see love abounding, unconditional, and wonderful.


Clydene (THOMAS) Overbey

HAIR WASHING DAY

4-4-09...HAIR WASHING DAY

Washing your hair might not seem a big deal to you. Well let me tell you about how Mama washed my hair when I was growing up. You just might relate to it. It was a major production.
No water in the house was the first thing that made it difficult, but that wasn't the worse thing.
In the first place my hair was long enough to sit on before it was ever cut the first time. Then it was very curly and frizzy. Mama often said that there were tangles in it that she could never get out. I looked like a walking brier patch going down the road.
The water was drawn from a well. We had a water bucket and I remember it took two buckets full to wash my hair. Water was put in a tea kettle and it wasn't an afternoon tea party kettle. It held about half a bucket of water and had a long spout and and a bail handle. This was warmed on the stove to the right temp. to pour through my hair. That was put in a dishpan. Then a second tea kettle of water was warmed, and a second dishpan was placed on the table beside the other one. Are you following me? Hope so.
Now the fun part came. Well fun was not the word I would really use here. More like a rat drowning. I had to bend my head over the empty dishpan while Mama poured the water over my hair to wet it. Very quickly another tea kettle of water was put on the stove to warm.
Mama poured Halo shampoo in my wet hair and started scrubbing with her long fingers. Oh my gosh. I just knew she was scalping me. Soapy water was running down on my face and neck and in my nose. I knew better but I would always reach up to swipe my face and just sling water everywhere. "Be still Clydene, all the water is going in the floor" Mama would say. "Mama you are drowning me" I would whine. Now I had a wash rag to hold over my eyes to keep soap outta them but it got soaked and dripping. Water ran down my back and off my toes.
When Mama was sure my hair had been scrubbed enough she'd check the teakettle of water on the stove. If it was warm then she'd pour this over my hair slowly and run her fingers through until that was gone. Then I had to bend over the second dishpan of water and she would rinse some more using a glass to dip the water and pour over my hair. She made sure my hair squeaked when she ran her fingers through it and pronounced it clean.
Then came the two towels that it took to dry my hair, and the combing that tried to finish scalping me. I couldn't move till the water in the floor was all mopped up and the floor was dry. Didn't want us tracking the water through the rest of the house don't ya know.
Mama carried the dishpans out and dumped them in the garden then. She scrubbed the dishpans out because they were used to wash dishes.
Now guys, when I washed my hair this morning I got my ring hung in the curls and pulled my hair. This set off a chain reaction of slinging water all over and yelping OH! Even got soap in my eyes in the process. That is what got me thinking of the days Mama washed my hair.
I didn't really know how much work it was then for Mama to wash my hair. God Bless Her!!!!! YEP!

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

EASTER SUNRISE

4-1-09...EASTER SUNRISE

Easter is coming up. A wonderful time of the year, akin to Christmas. Jesus was born on Christmas and He arose from the tomb on Easter.
It should be a beautiful day to my way of thinking but in my part of the world it very seldom is. This is the time of transition from winter to spring. Things are renewing, coming out of dormancy and bursting forward in new growth. One day cold and dreary, next day sunshiny and springlike. Reminds me of a young boy in between childhood and young manhood. One day he has that soft sweet voice of youth. But as he talks his voice will squeak and struggle. One sentence can change from babyish to squeaky, to gruff. He wants that manly voice but he has to struggle while he is transitioning in between. Young ladies have the same transition period as their bodies change and grow.
When I was a child we always had Sunrise services on a hill above our Church on Easter Sunday. It invariably would be cold and cloudy. Maybe even spitting snow or raining.
This one Easter Morning we were up before sunrise getting ready to go. Of course I was grumbling loudly. It was cold and I wanted to stay in bed. Mama had Norman dressed in his cute little suit with a bow tie. I was dawdling and not being cooperative as usual. I think I was about 5or 6 I'm not sure. I had a new yellow Easter dress and white bonnet of some kind with yellow daisies on it. Mama finally got me all beautiful (she said it I didn't) and sent me out to my Daddy while she got dressed. Even at that age I noticed that Daddy and Mama didn't have new Easter clothes. Didn't think much about that then but it is significant now in my memories.
We arrived on the hill above the Church. The men had erected a huge cross and sat it in the ground with concrete. It faced the East and we stood on the other side to the West. Now all the years I had been there I had not see the sun rise majestically over the cross. I was cold and wanted to go home. We assembled and had opening Prayer. Mama was holding Norman and I was pushed in close to my Daddy. I had a sweater on but still felt cold. Daddy put both arms around me and his warm hands on my arms were like a heater. I was close to my Daddy and I felt the comfort of his heat. I can almost feel Daddies warm loving hands on my arms now.
The sermon was ready to begin. Just as the Pastor said Amen and everyone opened their eyes you could hear the audible sighs and Awwws as the Sun came up over that cross. The cross was silhouetted in the early misty dawn of a new day. Indescribable, Awesome, magnificent. No words match that beautiful sight. Neither can any words describe how standing there close to my Daddy, sheltered from the cold by his body and looking up at my Mama's face as she stood there holding my little brother so handsome in his new suit.
To this day I never see a sunrise that I don't go back to that peaceful sunrise on that little hill above the Church. I get up before dawn every morning now and watch the sunrise. Some mornings there are just clouds and rain but I know the sun is there and it will peek out again soon. And when it does I will do all I can to be there to see it. There is no other hopeful, comfortable feeling that I can imagine that would top it.