Mother’s Day, 2021

Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome
Has many sonnets: so here now shall be
Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome
Has many sonnets: so here now shall be
One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me
To her whose heart is my heart’s quiet home,
To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee
I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome;
Whose service is my special dignity,
And she my loadstar while I go and come
And so because you love me, and because
I love you, Mother, I have woven a wreath
Of rhymes wherewith to crown your honored name:
In you not fourscore years can dim the flame
Of love, whose blessed glow transcends the laws
Of time and change and mortal life and death.

- Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)

Johnny Pearson, piano and Orchesta  (1967)
- Friendly Persuasion
(Tiomkin)

Click or tap here to view this L'Envoi YouTube.

All the Sages Said

~ Mother's Day ~
10 May 2015

And weary seekers of the best,
We come back laden from our quest,
To find that all the sages said—
Is in the Book our mothers read.
—Whittier

A Condolences Letter to a First Cousin

Dear C:

The sad tidings of Les' death funnels through my mind on a wave of sorrows. Condolences half-uttered or expressed in a sympathy cards never could equal to the comforting grace of God. That our Lord and Creator has taken account and put our tears in His bottle. He has made intimate note of each of them. Assuredly, "never a bitter tear is shed without my Lord sharing the tang and the pang."

Our risen Lord Jesus has made a path of eternal life for Les and others He calls by name. Indeed, the sting of death is no more to those He calls His own.

As our life is hid in Christ with God, may you find rest and comfort under the shadow of His wings in these difficult days.

A Wine Country Tax Preparation Expedition

• Saturday, 13 April 2013
  
• - clear and Windy; 70s
  
• - round-trip driving to the Napa Valley took about half-day
  
• - worked 3-hour non-billable time on target federal and state tax returns
  
• - "all's well that ends well"
  

Those Bygone Halcyon Days

My Dear Mrs. T:

I have to admit I was baffled when I received your email. The first thought flashed through my mind - who was this cousin of mine with a Norwegian surname? Then as the message unfurled before my eyes, only then I realized IT WAS YOU!

Thank you for your condolences for the death of my mother. Paul and your mother attended the funeral service on 2 March; it was they who recognized me. I couldn't even remember Paul was such a tall fellow. Their presence and condolences were much appreciated also.

Those halcyon days in eastern Oregon are fading fast with the passing of time. My only memory of you was on one evening we talked about Twain's "The Adventure of Tom Sawyer." This was at the time you and I stayed at grandfather's home, with me being the more permanent resident. I couldn't recall why you were there, much less what you looked like. You were there for cousin Winnie's wedding? What wedding? Sigh.

Our family circle is contracting. My maternal aunt is the last surviving member of grandfather Allen's side of the relations. Sadly, she has Alzheimer and does not recognize me anymore.

You and Paul are our family historians. Your genealogy research of our collective family tree is an invaluable task and must be preserved. I appreciate of your sharing some highlights of grandfather Allen and his exploits. Two things to which I had wanted answered but not knowing whom to ask. Perhaps you have the answers to: Was Allen in the Marines during World War II? And how did he acquire such beautiful penmanship?

I have been keeping a blog for a number of years. If curiosity gets the better of you, visit my blog at: lenvoi.blogspot.com

Hymn for the Recently Deceased Mother

Mother arrived "at her grave riped with many good years, like sheaves of golden grain at harves." (cf. Job 5:26). In a little while, we shall pay mother our last respects and lay her earthly remains in a tomb. Where her spirit is now, the "sun shall no more go down." (cf. Isaiah 60:20). As there is no evening to follow in God's dwelling place, only one sacred high Sun of Righteousness.

-- last paragraph of my eulogy delivered on 2 March 2013.



Rest, weary head!
Lie down to slumber in the peaceful tomb;
Light from above has broken through its gloom:
Here, in the place where once thy Saviour lay,
Where He shall wake thee on a future day,
Like a tired child upon its mother's breast,
Rest, sweetly rest!

Rest, spirit free!
In the green pastures of the heavenly shore,
Where sin and sorrow can approach no more,
With all the flock by the Good Shepherd fed,
Beside the streams of life eternal led,
For ever with thy God and Saviour blest,
Rest, sweetly rest!

-- From a Hymn by Jane Laurie Borthwick (1813-1897)

Hmm Hmm Good Lunch

Lunch at Brother Sam Today, Slow BBQ Chicken
(iPhone 4S, No Flash)

A Grecian Holiday

Meis Looking Out from a View on Santorini, Greece, 2002

The clan saw one of its own (twenty-something) flew off from SFX on Air France for a two-week holiday in Greece. Last time this lass was abroad was her final year in college. She spent three months in Florence, Italy.

On this trip, she will cruise about the Greek islands and be in time for the Greek Orthodox Church Easter celebration. Her last leg of the trip will be spent on the Greek Isle Santorini.

It is on occasions such as this going-away gathering, we members of the clan shared a evening meal afterward to catch up on the goings on. That we did on this beautiful, and sunny day in San Francisco.

It Had to Be a First

Call it what you will. Late winter rain or pre-spring shower. Either way, it was a wet day in California. Today was also a day set aside for a family dinner.

The 90 plus mile trek to San Francisco on a stormy day was remarkably uneventful. It got interesting after meeting up with Brother Sam and the rest of the clan at mother's place. Mother lives in a nice neighborhood in the Richmond District.

Brother Sam: We are going to a new seafood restaurant for dinner this time.
Moi: We are not going to our favorite restaurant overat Sunset?
(The Sunset District is on the other side of the Golden Gate Park)

Brother Sam: This new place is just a few blocks away on Balboa & 4th Avenue.
Moi: You going to drive?

Brother Sam: You are. You let us off at the restaurant and park back here at the house.
Moi: ?

Brother Sam: Parking spaces are next to impossible around that area. Besides, it's not that far a walk from here. ('Here' refers to mother's place at 7th Avenue).

It took a few minutes of driving time from mommie dearest to the Shelter Cove Restaurant. After depositing the clan, I drove back to mother's place and parked the car in the driveway. Then I walked the 0.7 mile back to the restaurant. It took about 10 minutes. Good thing it stopped raining during this interesting excerise. The brisk walk was good for the appetite though.

After a sumptuous sea food dinner, I walked 'home' to pick up the car and drove back to the restaurant and ferried the clan back.

Driving and walking 2.8 and 1.4 miles roundtrip, respectively, to the same dinner was the strangest outing ever for me. It had to be a first in a dining experience.

The Wedding

Father Vito Perrone married Kevin and Nichole yesterday afternoon at the Saint Elizabeth Seton Catholic Church, Pleasanton, CA.

A caveat lector. There won't be any fashion statements and related subjects described in this blog.

The modern cavernous santuary of Saint Elizabeth Seton is well lit with natural light and lacking the artistic heritage traditionally found in the older majestic cathedrals.

The pews faced each other in the worship space. The bride and grooms families and guests seated respectively on one side or the other of the pews. The wedding party and Father Perrone occupied the open area in the middle of the santuary.

The wedding ceremony from the Entrance Processional to the Nuptial Blessing lasted about an hour. The very first hour together for Kevin and Nichole as one on a life time journey of happiness and tears.

For this guest, the definitive moment of a new beginning came after the exchange of vows and when Kevin and Nichole honored their parents. The newlywed couple took roses to the two sets of parents sat facing each other. The bride's parents were the first honored. They murmured and embraced. Then the young couple came to honor the groom's parents. I sat behind the groom's parents on the second row. Nichole's eyes welled with tears as she approached and embraced her parents-in-law. I saw the joyful tears of a new self and sad tears of separation from the old.

On 29 January, 2005, a part of life for Nichole and Kevin closed for ever and a new one began.

Wherefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder. -- Matthew 19:6 (KJV)

Orange and Yellow

There was this man in Paris who almost got away with stealing several paintings from the Louvre. After planning the crime, getting in and out past security, he was captured only two blocks away when his van ran out of gas.

When asked how he could mastermind such a crime and then made such an obvious error, he replied, "Monsieur, I had no Monet to buy Degas* to make the Van Gogh."

You thought I lacked De Gaulle to tell a story like this! Well, I did.

And speaking of artists, it was Van Gogh who articulated there is no blue without yellow or orange.

My orange and lemon trees are tempermental this year. There won't be many navel oranges and Meyer lemons to harvest this season. I have to draw the line somewhere.

If they get their act together for one last try this season, all will be forgiven. The request was if they would see the way Van Gogh did with colors, we can make blue. When they heard what I said, there was nary a quiver in their collective branches. Both gave me a noncommittal stare of silence.

A work of art is the unique result of a unique temperament. There will be blue sky at Kevin's wedding today afterall. The orange and lemon trees are artist-extraordinaire. They would make Van Gogh proud.

*The correct pronunciation for Degas is "day-gaw". For the purpose of the joke, it is pronounced as de-gas.

Raining and Good News

This blog is sent from the HP-iPAQ 5550 using a WLAN.

If it were raining soup, the Irish would go out with forks. So mused Irish poet/dramatist, Brendan Behan. It is raining now, but it ain't soup. Thunderstorm is expected later this afternoon.

Just checked the email here at work. Good news. The groom's father found someone else to do the camcorder duty.

A Wedding I Will Go

My cousin Kevin marries his fiancée Nichole this Saturday. The grooms's Dad, Emma's grandfather, asked me earlier this evening to do some candid movie of the event using his Sony camcorder.

Camcorders are battery hogs. I am sure there won't be a full complement of accessories and extra batteries to go with this camcorder at the wedding. We shall see.

A Love Story

It's 2:10 AM Monday morning. I just got out of the shower. This thought about Emma's parents came to mind for some reason. Emma had a birthday party a week ago. Her parents are in their early thirtysomething. Boris and Terri are college graduates doing hi-tech work in the Silicon Valley.

When they were in junior high school, Boris pledged to Terri one day he will marry her. He did.

I would like to think there are still men like Boris in the world.

Emma's Birthday

Today is my niece Emma Burtin's first birthday. She is the first child and the only grandchild to both sides of her parents' families. The Burtins threw a big birthday luncheon banquet in Sunnyvale. This was a shindig by invitations only. An nine-course sumptuous meal and birthday cake were served to 80+ relatives and friends.

At my table, I met some hi-tech colleagues of the Burtins and the family's attorney-friend of 40 years, "RC". I practically spent the entire meal talking with a grandmother from Cleveland, Ohio, who went by an uncommon name of "Marose".

It was not all that sunny to and from the party though. Relatively speaking, we Californians are now in the winter of our discontent. This, too, shall pass. Weather wise, we will gripe about something else soon enough.

The childhood season is brief, Emma. May you always carry this precious time with you as you grow. With it, you'll always be young at heart.