Christmas At Our House by Judy T. Lloyd (best way to read ebooks txt) π
Excerpt from the book:
This is a collection of stories about Christmas and my family. Many of the stories has to do with my cancer. And it deals with the gift of life which is the best gift.
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were quite the handsome fellow.
When it snowed you thought that God made it just for you.
Running around like a deer and kicking up you heels.
You saw a real deer one day and gave me a what is that look?
Still it seemed that winter suited you because
it meant Christmas was on its way.
That is what got you into trouble the first day.
You would pick Christmas wreaths off of the doors and take them to home to play with.
It ended up that you came to live with us.
Oh and one other thing, cats were open game to you.
The game of undecorating the tree and chasing a wayward cat were your best fund.
Then came the day that we found out that I had cancer.
You and were by my side when I came home.
Never once did you try to jump into me or knock me down.
By the time the next Christmas rolled around you were there with me on the floor.
You slept peacefully content that mama was safe.
I had a vision that night as you snuggled closer.
I can recall that vision even until today.
Alas when cancer came back in 2000 you were still by my side.
I could do no less when in 2001, you too had cancer and you died.
I will always love that dog, he was so special to my family. My mother even thought he was the neatest dog. Trooper ranks up there with the greatest dogs ever. The fact that he was a rescue that appreciated being taken in just added to his charm. Today December 25, 2009 makes it ten years since the Christmas with Trooper was so special.
Noey
By Judy T. Lloyd
Sweet little girl made of sugar and spice.
Your smile makes our Christmas very nice.
You will never know just how much you are loved.
Surely the angels and God sent you from above.
Sweet little girl made of sugar and spice.
Hannah and mommy love you more than twice.
So too I welcome you.
Christmas this year will not be blue.
My mother loved Christmas and she would gather up goodies to put under the tree. Of course she did not know that I had already peeked at the gifts one day that I found in the closet. Still waiting for Christmas morning was very hard to do.
My mother would scurry about and find enough bowls for all of us, there were seven in my family. She would fill them with orange slices,gum drops,oranges,apples,ribbon candy,raisens and walnuts. Of course she added other items as well. We loved how the house smelled with all the aromas coming from dinner.
One year it snowed so hard before Christmas that we were house bound. That year we had a house guest because he had gotten stuck in the deep snow. So we played games especially Monopoly for a few days.
I did not discover that my mother could cheat at games until I grew older but the whole concept of Christmas was dear to her. My father would also enjoy Christmas and he was somewhat of a poet himself. He would ignore mama's indignant looks when he would say to us.
"Beans, beans the musical fruit, the more you eat the more you poot." He would also point out that fruitcake had the same effect.
There is a roast hen cooking now for our Christmas Dinner. We have snow on the ground and it is still cold. However though it is cold we still carry Christmas in our hearts. Just like my mother did up until the last Christmas in 2000. My mother died of brain cancer on March 15,2001. She was almost ninty-one.
The first Christmas after she died was very poignant and sad. I had to go back to the hospital for blood transfusions due to cancer related complications. My very special friend and second mother Doris Vandal Holman was with me when I had to be admitted. Vandal is my Rose in the books that I have written and she has gone to the mat with me on more than one occasion. It is she that encouraged me to start writing. I sent her a special Christmas Card that I wrote for her. Some of the context is this.
My friend Vandal is both a tiger and a lady.
She is a lady with a loving heart and touch.
She is a tiger that does not suffer fools lightly.
If you think so then mistreat one of her loved ones.
She will give you advice and spiritual counseling.
We share a common bond, in that we both had cancer.
Yet she did not play the dancer, rather she said to me.
"I can do this. You did it so will I."
They told us in the meetings of doctors,nurses,therapists that we could pick our team players to help us deal with cancer. So I chose Vandal and I was never sorry. We are as close as any two people can be without being blood related. Cancer is a journey and sometimes it seems like the winter of your life. In many ways it was the winter in my life but after winter comes the spring and life renews. Every day after cancer is a good one, each little victory is a gift. I do not ask why anymore but rather I ask why not me?
The answer is that someone has to write the story for all those who are survivors and honor those who have gone on.
To this end I wish you all a very Merry Christmas from our house.
Imprint
When it snowed you thought that God made it just for you.
Running around like a deer and kicking up you heels.
You saw a real deer one day and gave me a what is that look?
Still it seemed that winter suited you because
it meant Christmas was on its way.
That is what got you into trouble the first day.
You would pick Christmas wreaths off of the doors and take them to home to play with.
It ended up that you came to live with us.
Oh and one other thing, cats were open game to you.
The game of undecorating the tree and chasing a wayward cat were your best fund.
Then came the day that we found out that I had cancer.
You and were by my side when I came home.
Never once did you try to jump into me or knock me down.
By the time the next Christmas rolled around you were there with me on the floor.
You slept peacefully content that mama was safe.
I had a vision that night as you snuggled closer.
I can recall that vision even until today.
Alas when cancer came back in 2000 you were still by my side.
I could do no less when in 2001, you too had cancer and you died.
I will always love that dog, he was so special to my family. My mother even thought he was the neatest dog. Trooper ranks up there with the greatest dogs ever. The fact that he was a rescue that appreciated being taken in just added to his charm. Today December 25, 2009 makes it ten years since the Christmas with Trooper was so special.
Noey
By Judy T. Lloyd
Sweet little girl made of sugar and spice.
Your smile makes our Christmas very nice.
You will never know just how much you are loved.
Surely the angels and God sent you from above.
Sweet little girl made of sugar and spice.
Hannah and mommy love you more than twice.
So too I welcome you.
Christmas this year will not be blue.
My mother loved Christmas and she would gather up goodies to put under the tree. Of course she did not know that I had already peeked at the gifts one day that I found in the closet. Still waiting for Christmas morning was very hard to do.
My mother would scurry about and find enough bowls for all of us, there were seven in my family. She would fill them with orange slices,gum drops,oranges,apples,ribbon candy,raisens and walnuts. Of course she added other items as well. We loved how the house smelled with all the aromas coming from dinner.
One year it snowed so hard before Christmas that we were house bound. That year we had a house guest because he had gotten stuck in the deep snow. So we played games especially Monopoly for a few days.
I did not discover that my mother could cheat at games until I grew older but the whole concept of Christmas was dear to her. My father would also enjoy Christmas and he was somewhat of a poet himself. He would ignore mama's indignant looks when he would say to us.
"Beans, beans the musical fruit, the more you eat the more you poot." He would also point out that fruitcake had the same effect.
There is a roast hen cooking now for our Christmas Dinner. We have snow on the ground and it is still cold. However though it is cold we still carry Christmas in our hearts. Just like my mother did up until the last Christmas in 2000. My mother died of brain cancer on March 15,2001. She was almost ninty-one.
The first Christmas after she died was very poignant and sad. I had to go back to the hospital for blood transfusions due to cancer related complications. My very special friend and second mother Doris Vandal Holman was with me when I had to be admitted. Vandal is my Rose in the books that I have written and she has gone to the mat with me on more than one occasion. It is she that encouraged me to start writing. I sent her a special Christmas Card that I wrote for her. Some of the context is this.
My friend Vandal is both a tiger and a lady.
She is a lady with a loving heart and touch.
She is a tiger that does not suffer fools lightly.
If you think so then mistreat one of her loved ones.
She will give you advice and spiritual counseling.
We share a common bond, in that we both had cancer.
Yet she did not play the dancer, rather she said to me.
"I can do this. You did it so will I."
They told us in the meetings of doctors,nurses,therapists that we could pick our team players to help us deal with cancer. So I chose Vandal and I was never sorry. We are as close as any two people can be without being blood related. Cancer is a journey and sometimes it seems like the winter of your life. In many ways it was the winter in my life but after winter comes the spring and life renews. Every day after cancer is a good one, each little victory is a gift. I do not ask why anymore but rather I ask why not me?
The answer is that someone has to write the story for all those who are survivors and honor those who have gone on.
To this end I wish you all a very Merry Christmas from our house.
Imprint
Text: All of this material has implied copyright, parts of it were copyrighted in 2004. No part may be reproduced without my permission.
Publication Date: 12-25-2009
All Rights Reserved
Dedication:
This book is dedicated to the following who helped to make it possible. Donald Rae Lloyd Doris Vandal Holman Samantha Cecil Goode
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