| Location | Collinsville, Oklahoma |
| Age | 75 years |
| Cause of Death | Stroke |
| Date of Birth | 22/05/1930 |
| Date of Death | 10/09/2005 |
| Visitors | 2,178 since 17/01/2009 |
| Creator |
Gracie Waleeta Gordon was born to Walter & Gracie Elam, May 22, 1930. She was the oldest of 6 siblings. Mom married our dad Willis Buoy, May 22, 1948. They had myself, Lois Carol Bauders, a son, Robert Allen Buoy, and our baby sister, Cheryle Lynn McManus. She has 7 grandchildren, Allen & Terry Bauders, Brandi Brassfield, Shauna Payne, Shawn Buoy, Nikki Bunch & Kori McManus. 4 Great-grandchildren, Myles & Tymbr Masquat,Sadie & Araya Payne. Mama was loved by so many. She loved to play the slot machines,(we called it our therapy!) plant flowers, play bingo, and go to the auctions. She enjoyed visiting with family & friends. She is missed by all of us. She left such a void in so many lives. I miss our phone calls several times a day, and my car hardly ever left without her. She was not only my mother, she was my best friend. Bobby, Cheryle & myself knew she loved us dearly. Loved each of us in her own special way, as did she all of her grandkids. She married Kenny Gordon in 1974.
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*♥')
...-♥') .-♥')
(...-♥') .-♥')) ♥.--.- ♥ MISS YOU
The New Year…✿⊹✿
It is winter and the New Year.
Nobody knows you.
Away from the stars, from the rain of light,
you lie under the weather of stones.
There is no thread to lead you back.
Your friends doze in the dark
of pleasure and cannot remember.
Nobody knows you. You are the neighbor of nothing.
You do not see the rain falling and the man walking away,
the soiled wind blowing its ashes across the city.
You do not see the sun dragging the moon like an echo.
You do not see the bruised heart go up in flames,
the skulls of the innocent turn into smoke.
You do not see the scars of plenty, the eyes without light.
It is over. It is winter and the New Year.
The meek are hauling their skins into heaven.
The hopeless are suffering the cold with those who have nothing to hide.
It is over and nobody knows you.
There is starlight drifting on the black water.
There are stones in the sea no one has seen.
There is a shore and people are waiting.
And nothing comes back.
Because it is over.
Because there is silence instead of a name.
Because it is winter and the New Year.
~ Mark Strand ~
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✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻
❊ The Snow Flake ❊
"Now, if I fall, will it be my lot
To be cast in some low and lonely spot
To melt, and to sink unseen or forgot?
And then will my course be ended?"
'Twas thus a feathery snow-flake said,
As down through the measureless space it strayed,
Or, as half by dalliance, half afraid,
It seemed in mid air suspended.
"Oh, no," said the earth, "thou shalt not lie,
Neglected and lone, on my lap to die,
Thou pure and delicate child of the sky;
For thou wilt be safe in my keeping;
But, then, I must give thee a lovelier form;
Thou'lt not be a part of the wintry storm,
But revive when the sunbeams are yellow and waffle
And the flowers from my bosom are peeping".
"And then thou shalt have thy choice to be
Restored in the lily that decks the lea,
In the jessamine bloom, the anemone,
Or aught of thy spotless whiteness;
To melt, and be cast in a glittering bead,
With the pearls that the night scatters over the moon
In the cup where the bee and the fire-fly feed,
Regaining thy dazzling brightness; - -"
"To wake, and be raised from thy transient sleep,
When Viola's mild blue eye shall weep,
In a tremulous tear, or a diamond leap
In a drop from the unlocked fountain;
Or, leaving the valley, the meadow and heath,
The streamlet, the flowers, and all beneath,
To go and be wove in the silvery wreath
Encircling the brow of the mountain."
"Or wouldst thou return to a home in the skies,
To shine in the iris I'll let thee arise,
And appear in the many and glorious dyes
A pencil of sunbeams is blending.
But true, fair thing, as my name is earth,
I'll give thee a new and vernal birth,
When thou shalt recover thy primal worth,
And never regret descending!"
"Then I will drop," said the trusting flake;
"But bear it in mind that the choice I make
Is not in the flowers nor the dew to awake,
Nor the mist that shall pass with the morning;
For, things of thyself; they expire with thee;
But those that are lent from on high, like me,
They rise, and will live, from thy dust set free,
To the regions above returning."
"And if true to thy word, and just thou art,
Like the spirit that dwells in the holiest heart,
Unsullied by thee, thou wilt let me depart,
And return to my native heaven;
For I would be placed in the beautiful bow,
From time to time, in thy sight to glow,
So thou may'st remember the flake of snow
By the promise that God hath given."
~ Hannah Gould (1787 – 1865) ~
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ჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓ
ღ LIFE is a series of little deaths out of which life always returns.
…~ Charles Feidelson, Jr.
ღ LOVE is the vital core of the soul, and of all you see, only love is infinite.
…~ Rumi
♥ ═ೋღ♥ ═ೋღ♥
ღ A Farewell ღ
FAREWELL, oh dream of mine!
I dare not stay;
The hour is come, and time
Will not delay:
Pleasant and dear to me
Wilt thou remain;
No future hour
Brings thee again.
❦
She stands, the Future dim,
And draws me on,
And shows me dearer joys—
But thou art gone!
Treasures and Hopes more fair,
Bears she for me,
And yet I linger,
Oh dream, with thee!
❦
Other and brighter days,
Perhaps she brings;
Deeper and holier songs,
Perchance she sings;
But thou and I, fair time,
We too must sever—
Oh dream of mine,
Farewell for ever!
~ Adelaide Anne Procter
ჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓჱܓ
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♥ O’er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
♥ Our thoughts are boundless and our souls are free…
(Lord Byron)
ზზ*ზზ*ზზ*ზზ*ზზ
• ❤ • Sorrow • ❤ •
O thorn-crowned Sorrow, pitiless and stern,
I sit alone with broken heart, my head
Low bowed, keeping long vigil with my dead.
My soul, unutterably sad, doth yearn
Beyond relief in tears—they only burn
My aching eyelids to fall back unshed
Upon the throbbing brain like molten lead,
Making it frenzied. Shall I ever learn
To face you fearlessly, as by my door
You stand with haunting eyes and death-damp hair,
Through the night-watches, whispering solemnly,
“Behold, I am thy guest forevermore.”
It chills my soul to know that you are there.
Great God, have mercy on my misery!
(Katrina Trask)
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❃ When You See ❃
When you see birds on the wing
Know that my spirit soars with them
In graceful compliment to their flight.
When you see a special smile
Realise that I still smile with you
For all the wonderful times we shared.
When you hear roaring laughter
Think of all the funny things
That could never happen to anyone else but me.
When you hear a lovely song
Think of music, gatherings, holidays and parties,
The memories that can never be silenced.
When you hug someone gently
Remember my touch
And know that I am hugging you
And keeping you close.
When you see a rainbow
And the sun shining through the raindrops
Remember the promises of God
And be assured
I am at peace and in His presence.
Ⓒ Lucy Linder
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The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague. ❤
Who shall say where one ends and the other begins?
~ Edgar Allan Poe
⊱☆⊰ ⊱☆⊰ ⊱☆⊰
The Bridge Beyond…❤
There is a bridge that leads beyond
The world of time and space.
Through a green and peaceful valley
To a lovely dwelling place.
Where our loved ones find true happiness
And joys which never end.
Across the bridge that leads beyond
The peaceful valley’s bend.
~ Author Unknown ❤
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For Waleeta. xxx
♥ REMEMBERING YOU ON YOUR ANGEL DAY ♥
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♥ I Miss You ♥
Another year without you
Tears flow – within this broken heart of mine
I am never complete
A shadow of my former self
You went to the Garden of Paradise this day, that year
I should be happy for you, but I wish you were here so much
And all I can do is cry.
♥ Written by Melanie Doe 10/09/10 ♥
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10/9/2011 with love
●▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
WHILE WE REMEMBER
Only a memory, tender and dear, from the days that are over and gone; but yet in the heart it is still very near and the fragrance it held lingers on. And while we remember, Time's onrushing tide cannot sweep its loved beauty away; for it holds happy thoughts that will ever abide, let life and fate bring what they may. Although they have vanished, you know this is true: Nothing can take from us joys that we knew.
From The Quiet moment by Southern Cross
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•:*:••:*:••:*:••:*:••:*:••:*: ••:*:••:*••:*:••:*:•
~ Bilbo's Song in Rivendel ~
(The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien)
I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;
…✿ ✿ ✿…
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.
…✿ ✿ ✿…
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.
…✿ ✿ ✿…
For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.
…✿ ✿ ✿…
I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.
…✿ ✿ ✿…
But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.
•:*:••:*:••:*:••:*:••:*:••:*: ••:*:••:*••:*:••:*:•
*ღ* On Another’s Sorrow *ღ*
Can I see another’s woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another’s grief,
And not seek for kind relief?
..ღ..
Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow’s share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow fill’d?
..ღ..
Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
..ღ..
And can he who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird’s grief & care,
Hear the woes that infants bear,
..ღ..
And not sit beside the nest,
Pouring pity in their breast;
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant’s tear;
..ღ..
And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
O! no, never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
..ღ..
He doth give his joy to all;
He becomes an infant small;
He becomes a man of woe;
He doth feel the sorrow too.
..ღ..
Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy maker is not by;
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy maker is not near.
..ღ..
O! he gives to us his joy
That our grief he may destroy;
Till our grief is fled & gone
He doth sit by us and moan.
~ William Blake ~
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