Dear Lucy, Here You Will Always Be...

Lucy, I was in the middle of some late spring cleaning doing the upstairs windows...

missing you missing my 60th birthday fuss and love... 

Oh, I can almost hear you exclaiming how 60 sounds surreal and wowing, and half-listening

as I explain 'things', how sometimes out of nowhere

 a poem just seizes my senses and needs out!

 and then we talk... in breathless mostly half-sentences between questions, 

catching up on each other's lives...

and laughing and weeping and praying...

 depending on the joy or grief of love...

Lucy, the grief of our parting has sweetened/refined my joys. 

I sense you in a harvest of deepened friendships... 

you opened my eyes to a world of outstretched arms...

two of them, mine...

because its the hard times that remind us how much we need each other. 

You are teaching me the bitter-sweetness of this verse, dear Lucy...

John 12:24 

Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, 

it remains only a single seed.

 But if it dies, it produces many seeds.

What?! oh! you're asking 'why so many ellipses?!!'

That's where I was pausing to gather my thoughts...

and words! 😅😘

Dear Lucy,

In one sense, you're not here

and in that sense its true

But somehow I still feel you near

in every thought of you

in every want to hear

more than echoes to trace

in every peony my dear 

I press against my face

In every memory

That pray, Time will not steal

In every aching void of 'we'

That Time can never heal

In every hope renewed

Because God loves us so

In every prayer of gratitude

In spite of tears that flow

In spite of sight bereft

For God bid we should part

There is a sense of you still left

To hold within my heart

To comfort sorrow's tear

To remind me again

That in one sense you are not here

But in one you remain

...and here you'll always be

 In ever younger years

You slipped beyond the reach of me

Save in my smiles and tears 

Janet💔🙏💝

  

This Year, Lucy, on your Birthday...

Dear Lucy,

How can this be your 2nd birthday we celebrate in memory of you?!!

This year, Lucy on your birthday we will miss your sweet delight

Of grateful appreciation for a card that is just right

We will miss your breathless questions leaving no time to reply

As you pause to exclaim over something that has caught your eye

'Love your skirt, your purse, your jacket; where did you buy it?!! how much?!!

Love your hair, the way you wear it, love your scarf, dress, shoes and such

Come sit down! would you like coffee or tea?? and a fresh-baked 'yum'?

WOW! Time flies I can't believe how faster birthdays seem to come!!'

This year, Lucy, on your birthday both tears and laughter will spill

In the tender recollection of scenes ceased against our will 

Longing for your lovely/lively presence to grace the room like a breeze

As we trace the treasured essence of echoes and memories

This year, Lucy, on your birthday we will wonder *how/where you are

How yesteryears and forever feel so very near and far

Tugging us in two directions; what will be and what has been

Close enough to hug and kiss you but for farewell's void between 

This year, Lucy, on your birthday only memories must do

As we yearningly remember and relive moments with you 

And with reverent appraisal ponder opportunity

Before we too join the ranks of 'Happy Birthday-used-to-be'

This year, Lucy, on your birthday we will thank the Lord above

For the beauty of the blessing of your lifetime and your love 

For God knows how much we miss you and He comforts longing's pain

With the hope and joy of knowing someday we will meet again

This year Lucy, on your birthday, we will kind and humbly pray

For the treasure in the measure of the gift we call today

And the pleasure of thought-pictures that no hand of time can steal

While a pang soft-rends heart-sutures Time can never fully heal...

Janet Martin

Dear Lucy,

Love fills holes loss leaves behind

love always,

your sis

*How Beautiful Heaven Must Be...

Johnny Cash - In The Sweet By And By

The Time We Had/Have (Dear Lucy)

Whenever we reach the 17th of a month my heart does a little jolt!

This day Jan. 17, 2026, marks 16 mos, since we lost dear Lucy💔.

The longevity of this reality is beginning to sink in!

This winter I am meandering through John Greenleaf Whittier's 

Snow Bound

A Winter Idyll

These stanzas struck a specially tender chord as round the fireside they recall

stories and memories from departed loved ones...

Some things will never change

We cannot turn back Time

Or reach its walls to rearrange

The pictures in its clime

Time cannot give back days

Or one moment when spent

The clock will never change its ways

Through laughter or lament 

To trust the Giver of 

Time's lease, as it unfolds

Helps us to make the most of love 

No matter what it holds

For love is worth the price

The heart is bound to pay

Grief is the sacred/solemn sacrifice

Love cannot hold at bay

Each tear a testament

And tender tribute to

The Time We Had to Paint Its Tent

Of air with 'I love you' 

For love, when life is through

Does not fade like a flow'r

The grave, though it must claim its due

Is Time's dust-and-ash bow'r

And though the heart may tear

And though the eye may brim

God, rich in mercy helps us bear

Love's grief for her or him

...until each loss we brave

Will deck departure's sod 

Time's inheritance is the grave

Love's inheritance, God 

The Time We Have To Spend

Is precious, but a glove/knife

The Giver of its lease, my friend

Is Everlasting Love/Life 

The clang of 'my' and 'me' 

Soon flies like worthless chaff

Only true love transcends Time's spree

God seals its autograph 

The Tree that spawns the limbs

Where leaf sojourn is brief/runs rife 

Offers comfort that never dims

As long as there is grief/life

Janet Martin

1 Cor.13:12

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face:

Do you know the One who purchased, holds and anchors

the hope of Heaven/God?

Rev.21:4

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. 

There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, 

for the old order of things has passed away.”

Dear Lucy, Like a Priceless Souvenir

These days, (Christmas season) when I am asked how I'm doing 

(regarding the sorrow of missing Lucy)

I've come to realize the raw edge of grief has faded into a tender, deep, deep ache,

that, by the grace of God, I will treasure like a priceless souvenir, as long as I live...

Dear Lucy, As Time goes by...

The raw edge of love’s heartache fades

And in its tender stead

An anguish of longing invades

The place where angels tread

To comfort us as we recall

Your voice, your smile, your touch

To gather up the tears that fall

As we miss you so much

While seasons roll across the land

As if nothing has changed

As we learn to weather time’s hand

With part of us estranged

The heart begins to reconcile

The void that will remain

To ache for your voice, touch and smile

Until we meet again

…and though the raw edge of grief fades

Beneath love’s brave façade

An anguish of longing invades

The place where we find God

He helps us treasure every tear

Each thought of you imparts

A precious, priceless souvenir

To harbour in our hearts

Time takes it toll and always will

For better-worse, it flies

And draws us all along until

It severs earthly ties

Where, pray we each leave in life’s wake

Of hold-to-letting go

The souvenir of love’s heartache

In all who miss/love us so

Janet Martin

Sometimes I'm Tempted To Suppose

Sometimes I’m tempted to suppose life lovelier without the rain...

A year ago today was also rainy, 

the day we huddled solemnly beneath umbrellas,

 around a freshly dug grave; the grave of Dear Lucy

while our tears and nature's tears mingled...

Sometimes I’m tempted to suppose the rose sweeter without its thorn...

Sometimes I’m tempted to suppose the rose sweeter without its thorn

Love better without loss or pricks, life kinder without ups and downs

Or battles between wrong and right, or tug-of-wars that leave us torn

Twixt Now and scenes perfected by what we forget of faded frowns

Sometimes I’m tempted to suppose life lovelier without the rain

Happiness fuller without pain of broken bodies, dreams and hearts

Or weariness from tolls of toil and pangs of till-we-meet-again

But then how would we recognize the prize of highs, life's low imparts

Without the hill how would we thrill at views while filled with speechless thanks

Would triumph be as sweet without the test of spirit, strength and limb?

Without the thorn would roses rise to calls reserved for rarer ranks

Without loss, push and shove, could love compose a truly noble hymn?

Sometimes I’m tempted to suppose Plan without interruption best

Hope choicer, without waiting for the timing/answer only God bestows

Easy Street more appealing than the twists and turns of bitter test

But then, without the thorns of life how would we recognize its rose?

Janet Martin

 

Alan Jackson - Sissy's Song lyrics

James 1:2-4

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, 

when you encounter trials of many kinds,

 3because you know that the testing of your faith

 develops perseverance.

 4Allow perseverance to finish its work,

 so that you may be mature and complete, 

not lacking anything.

It's Been a Year...

Today marks a year of trusting God's purpose

in taking Lucy from this earth...

Thank-you everyone, for your caring and support throughout this year!

God bless you all!

Deut.29:29

 (The verse that Lucy's funeral message was drawn from)

“The secret things belong to the Lord our God,

 but those things which are revealed belong to us 

and to our children forever, 

that we may do all the words of this law.

Dear Lucy...

(Beloved Daughter, sister, wife, sister-in-law,

daughter-in-law, mother, mother-in-law, aunt and Grammy 

and beloved friend, missed by many) 

It's been a year of succumbing to grips

With 'what is', again and again

Of trusting in God when His Sovereignty strips

Sure answers from every 'amen'

It's been a year of  meek joy, sorrow-awed

By loss that has left a huge hole

While finding firsthand, the faithfulness of God

Whose rod and staff comforts the soul

It's been a year of considering oft

This life and what fashions its worth

Before The Intangible is borne aloft

And body returns to the earth

...before the measure of Lifetime is weighed

In a Balance, sacred and just

Before Truth reveals where treasure is laid

Before Soul-to-God, dust-to-dust 

It's been a year of relinquishing 'why?'

To God's higher purpose and will

Until hymns come true, In the Sweet By and By

What a Day That Will be, Peace, Be Still

It's been a year where we felt the full force

Of Hope's/Faith's utter un-commonplace 

Of drinking in moments, more tuned to the Source

Like nectar from fountains of grace

...of four-word love-letters like 'thaw, heat and serve'

'How are you doing', 'I'm praying for you'

While weathering many-a-sharp learning curve

 While suffering love's decreed due  

...while we stuffed our faces into peonies

While we gathered to reminisce 

While we laughed and wept, and made new memories

Honored with , 'Lucy would have loved this!' 

It's been a year of hope's anchor reviewed 

Of love abounding more and more

Why does it take loss to renew gratitude 

For each other, like never before?

It's been a year of hug-warm tender care

Of heartaches no poem can spell 

Of kindness on kindness, of prayer upon prayer

Of tears for the flower that fell 

Of feeling a keen sense of urgency

For all still like sheep, wandering 

 Ignoring impending eternity

As if it were not a sure thing 

 

It's been a year of learning to let go

While holding the part left behind

Of frames filled with pictures and echoes that flow

Through sorrow and joy intertwined 

It's been a year of oft coming to terms

With what we can never undo 

While leaning on the everlasting arms

Of God, who is faithful and true

It's been a year of learning to revere

A law we should never dismiss

Of, 'If the Lord wills we shall live and go here

Or there, and do that or this'  

Janet Martin

James 4:13-15

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, 

spend a year there, carry on business, and make a profit.”

 14You do not even know what will happen tomorrow!

 What is your life? 

You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

Instead you ought to say,

 “If the Lord wills, we shall live and do this or that.”

Deut.33:27

The eternal God is your refuge,
And underneath are the everlasting arms;

Leaning on the Everlasting Arms

Be Still, My Soul

Dear Lucy, Of Memories We Treasure Now...

There is something heart-wrenchingly healing

as I compose each Dear Lucy poem/post!

Thank-you, Lord

This quote (author unknown), rings so true 🙏💓

When someone you love becomes a memory

the memory (and memories) become a treasure...

Tomorrow it will be 11 months since someone I took far too for granted

(Dear Lucy,  the middle sister of the five Martin girls)

 became a memory to treasure...and oh, what a bitterly-sweetest treasure!

Below is a group of friends that tried

to get together for at least a few of our birthdays

every year..(one friend absent from these shots)

These tea-parties have become cherished memories to treasure!

(Lucy, third from the left) 

Above photo Oct. 2023, a birthday tea at the café where Lucy served us with

honour and delight!

Lucy LOVED serving her friends and family either in her home

 or at various restaurants and cafés

where she worked throughout her life!

Below Mar. 27 2024 (Lucy's last birthday)

my mom, sister and I surprised her at work

and came for lunch

This memory plus many more while sitting at her kitchen table,

inspired the first four lines of this month's poem.

Your brisk, bouncy, efficient stride

Your happiness when serving us

Your table set with loving pride

Your pleasure in the detail-fuss...

Your brisk, bouncy, efficient stride

Your happiness when serving us

Your table set with loving pride

Your pleasure in the detail-fuss

Your smile, your spontaneity

Your tardy tune-in with 'what?! who?!'

Your love of home and family

And interest in others too

Your faith, that deepened joy and grief

Your prayers for fellow hopes and hurts

Your delight in each season's brief

Beauty-fest. Your fresh-baked desserts

Your 'artist's eye' for painting things

Your energy to get it done

Your sentimental renderings

Or humorous, quick-witted pun

Your love of books, of poetry

Of anything worthy to read

Of planting a garden to see

The miracle in every seed

Your kindred-spirit-common-ground

With we who  love the loss of words

When truth's epiphanies confound

The tongue, but leave hearts and souls stirred

Your boundless appetite for life

While weathering its 'yes' and 'nope'

From a fountain of mercy, rife

With opportunity and hope

Your encouraging wisdom born

From your own share of bitter blows

Your willingness to brave love's thorn 

To reap the beauty of its rose  

Your one-and-only-you, oh how

We miss your precious presence here

Where memories we treasure now 

Are love's beautiful keepsakes, dear

Reminding us, through smiles and tears

To thank God for the blessing of

Bearing the part sorrow reveres 

Because we were part of your love

By your sister Janet on

behalf of so many

'treasure-embracers' 

B-day celebration at D's house

(June 2021)

Another B-day celebration...

this one at my house (Sept.2022)

...and another below at 'J's'  house

(June 2023)

Ps.116:15 NIV

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his faithful servants.

  

                       

                                                                                                               

The Ongoing Interview

A year ago today/yesterday our truck was stolen 

out of our back yard during a family reunion

 ( the loss was just a truck and eventually it was recovered) but

I commented to some friends yesterday how it felt like that day began

a volley of staggering blows and losses,

a schooling in sorrow and the 

incomprehensible compassion of God poured through

people and His Word; evoking a keener awareness to a kind of

Interview, where God has always said

'Trust me' and delights in proving His faithfulness

if we are willing to obey and trust Him

A year ago today Lucy dropped by unannounced

with a bouquet of gladiolas, and much sympathy.

(and classic Lucy-greeting,

oh wow! Are you always dressed up like you're going for groceries,

even on a Monday afternoon of canning?!!) 😅💓

My, my I miss my spontaneous, speak-her-mind/heart sister💔😭

Because our truck was stolen (a friend reminded me much later) 

we, unknowingly had our last just-the-two-of-us, heart-to-heart afternoon together!

Before she left we hugged and said 'I love you'.

After the tragedy that ended her earthly life

Her husband chose Rom. 8:28 

And we know that in all things 

God works for the good of those who love him, 

who[a] have been called according to his purpose

as a grounding verse.

 Because of our stolen truck

God worked for good

Lucy's response to the nudge to come 

and give me a hug, amidst her busyness.

God gave me a memory to treasure forever...

(I can't begin to describe how the last year has

transformed joy/hope through incredible heartbreak!

My heart feels ripped, crushed and cradled!!)

The Interview between Father and Child,

to teach needful lessons is always painful, isn't it, daddies?

Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty,

God hath shined.

Ps.50:2

We are God’s workmanship; thus, are part of an interview

With He who kindles every star, then dims them with the sun

Who, out of Zion pours perfection’s bespoke beauty through

A fathomless reflection of love’s work barely begun

While, 'gainst a universal scrim, His evidence of truth

Beckons us to remember Him in the days of our youth

The Interviewer of our days; the Kindler of each star

Delights to hear our heartful praise, while joy or sorrow roll

He tests and weighs worship’s reply; no matter who we are

He loves us; Lord of earth and sky and Saviour of the soul

He tries the highs of boast with blows; He refines gains with loss

To prove who we love most; with woes He points us to the cross

Each day runs rife with lows and highs; part of Love’s Interview

While life spills hellos and goodbyes, while we choose who to serve

In a world where anything goes (it seems), where liars woo/coo

Where change and Changeless juxtapose on Hope’s brief honing-curve

While breath by breath soft-dwindles what consumes Attention’s claim

While, like the stars He kindles, God knows each of us by name

...where while life lasts we are in an ongoing Interview

With He who shines through every star, and the sun cannot dim

Who gave His life doomed souls to save, who rose and overthrew

The deadly triumph of the grave, for all who trust in Him

Lord, tune our ears to hear, above the trials faith endures

The Interviewer’s perfect love, whose grace the soul secures

© Janet Martin

Take heart, all of us who are being 'interviewed/tested'...

James 1:2-8

My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials,

 3knowing that the testing of your faith produces [a]patience.

 4But let patience have its perfect work, 

that you may be [b]perfect and complete, lacking nothing.

 5If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, 

who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. 

6But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, 

for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind.

 7For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord;

 8he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.

1 Peter 5:9-10

Resist him, 

standing firm in your faith and in the knowledge 

that your brothers throughout the world 

are undergoing the same kinds of suffering. 

 And after you have suffered for a little while, 

the God of all grace, who has called you 

to His eternal glory in Christ, 

will Himself restore you, 

secure you, 

strengthen you, 

and establish you.

Dear Lucy, It Is Summer

...and now it is ten months since our hearts were suddenly broken,

never to be the same again!

Dear Lucy, how we miss you!

The honeysuckle vine you gave is gilt with clusters, pink...

The breeze chases a winsome wave that rolls through wheat fields, gold...

The lily and the hollyhock lure honey bees to drink...

And everywhere we look earth gleams with beauty to behold

Summer has much on offer to rekindle awe and praise

The garden like a coffer brimming with the fruit of dreams

The countryside, a work of art entitled Summer Days...

Dear Lucy

The honeysuckle vine you gave is gilt with clusters, pink

The breeze chases a winsome wave that rolls through wheat fields, gold

The lily and the hollyhock lure honey bees to drink

And everywhere we look earth gleams with beauty to behold

Summer has much on offer to rekindle awe and praise

The garden like a coffer brimming with the fruit of dreams

The countryside, a work of art entitled Summer Days

(where joy and sorrow rush the heart in conflicting extremes)  

Sometimes, when missing you ignites fresh, sudden pangs of grief

I count the ways I loved you, sister dear, and love you more 

Then, from a world of yesterdays, descends divine relief

Love's symphony of echoes plays a tender repertoire 

The memories I have of you are like a garden path

Traced and retraced, soft woven through with threads I cannot touch

They gently bind the isles Thought trods to Laughter's Aftermath

Of Summers where we oohed and a-ahed, and talked and walked and such

....while watching our children grow too fast; they always do

While weathering the ebb and flow of tides that stole our youth

While planting flow'rs in trouble's dirt like our mother did too

While learning from parental hurt, lessons of timeless truth 

What I would give to hear you sigh or exclaim with delight  

Over something that caught your eye while your heart skipped a beat

A field full of wild flowers, purple, yellow, red and white (we were out on a sister's day)

Or twilight's tranquil bowers, or a yummy fresh-baked treat 

No, summer has not changed its ways, it still burgeons with bliss

And never ceases to amaze on both good days and bad 

The sky is blue; the lake is too, but, oh, in spite of this 

Somehow sweet summer without you just isn't quite as glad 

Janet Martin 

The memories I have of you are like a garden path

Traced and retraced, soft woven through with threads I cannot touch...

This year I planted a little flower garden in my vegetable garden...

A place to work, and let the therapy of flowers comfort me.

A place to sit to pray, read and remember Lucy, as well as my parents,

my other three sisters and their spouses,

my five brothers and their spouses

And of course her husband and children

We, as a family, all share in this deep grief of missing Lucy..

I hope in August when more flowers bloom, 

and you also would love a quiet moment of reflection and remembering Lucy,

you know you are welcome to drop by my garden too 💛🙏 

In the Garden