This message came through in July 2015. These messages were helpful to me then but feel much more pertinent for this now time. My parents died in June 2019, just 16 days apart. Still feeling the sting though not as sharp as before. Time heals but the scar is there.
Voice– Katana
Me– Yes
Voice– I am Thiel.
Me– What message do you have for me?
Thiel– You are loved. Indeed you are love itself.
Me– Why do you tell me this each time?
Thiel– It is important to know. It is the most important thing.
Me– What else do you have for me?
Thiel– Your parents will not ever truly die. You know this. There are many on this planet who are changing and shifting. You are part of this also. It is ever so and has been so. The core, the essence of a person is eternal and therefore not to be gone even in this expression of life here and now. In the 3D look of things it is difficult to watch a person age and deteriorate but their essence is not aging in the same way. It only gains more experience and there fore helps the whole have that experience. You are helping the whole see it from the other perspective by watching it happen to others you care about. This is important and edifying.
Me– I am tired of seeing them go down hill and suffering.
Thiel– You feel emotion for them. (at this point I am crying) This is part of the 3D experience and not to be shunned. You are attached to them and this causes you to suffer with them. Allowing another to go through with their contract is not as easy as it was explained. You are doing a good job and are providing needed data for those that come after you in this experiment that is life here on this planet.
Me– I see my little dog suffer some days and then he seems just as young as before. My parents do the same thing. Why?
Thiel– Such is life here and such is your perception of this life. There are days when you see beyond what is 3D there and you see the perfection of the eternal. Then there are days when you only see what the illusion lets you see. Then you see suffering. Being here with it all in every way that you see it is good and part of the purpose. All in this experiment see as you do at various times. Some acknowledge it and others do not see the difference. It is enough.
Me– Is there more you would tell me?
Thiel– There is a storm coming. Not the conventional storm with thunder and lightening but one none the less. Preparation is needed and information will be provided to weather it all. Continue to look, see, listen and hear for there will be signs of what is to come and you will be led to what is needed to do for yourself and those you love. Be open, be engaged, be honest.
Me– I need to rest now.
Thiel– Yes you need to rest for now and for the time ahead. There is much to do, to be and to expect for it will all be well.
Catherine Denton is a Metaphysician living in the Foothills of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Check out her musing on family, life, health, and various metaphysical topics.
I hope you all enjoy a replay of our memorial service at the Denton Family Reunion. All of nature joined in the celebration: the incessant crowing of a rooster, dogs large & small, small airplanes & big trucks along with a symphony of insects lent their voices to the morning’s activities. Established in 1872, these are the sounds our loved ones listen to each day in their final rest at Old Mother Church Cemetery. I hope Heaven has a noise filter!
Old Mother Church Cemetery ~ Robbinsville, North Carolina ~ July 25th 2021
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Gathering music by Mary Margaret & David Flood- Two Strong Men written by David Flood
Friends and family- Thank you all for coming this day to honor two among our number who have passed from this life into the next. Let us pray:
Dear Heavenly Father, we come into your presence today to honor David Morris Denton, Sr. and his son, David Jr. We are in mourning, Lord, for these souls that you have called home. Grant us thy peace and comfort as we adjust to their transition from this plane. Help us to celebrate and understand the life they had here and to find meaning in their passing. We praise you for allowing us time with them and give you all glory and honor. In Christ name, Amen.
~
Reader: Nikki Denton
Ephesians 4:22-24 To put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness. (ESV)
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Reader: Avery “Denise” Gordon Crossing the Bar by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar.
~
Eulogy by Rev. Dr. Catherine Denton
Our world has profoundly changed since we last met at the Denton Family Reunion two years ago. Our country has seen many losses of life for numerous reasons. Our individual lives have gone through a massive shift. We are here today to acknowledge two of our Denton family leaders- David Morris and Dave Jr. They have made the ultimate transition.
These two souls were among those responsible for our initial gatherings here in Robbinsville, around 1999, at what we have called the Sweetwater Cousin Reunion. Because of their vision, we have become closer in spirit and not just in name. Each of us has had memorable experiences each year we come together and celebrate what it means to be a Denton- a family of immeasurable love and compassion.
David Morris Denton was born and graduated high school right here in Robbinsville, NC. He served four years in the United States Air Force as a Crew Chief on the Douglas A/B-26 and the North American F-51 Mustang. He was a well educated man receiving degrees from Cumberland College, Lenoir-Rhyne College, California State University and finally his doctorate at Western Maryland College. His awards and accolades are many ranging from distinguished ones from colleges, to humanitarian awards from Rotary Club, to a 4-H alumni award, plus many, many others. In his career with deaf education he was superintendent of the Maryland School for the Deaf as well as an international lecturer spreading his ideas and thoughts on deaf education where ever there were those receptive to his message. The world knew Dr. David Morris Denton as a great man of learning. We knew him as husband, father, grandfather, uncle and patriarch of the Sweetwater Denton Clan.
Uncle Morris opened a door to our past with his storytelling and reminisces. He gave us a glimpse of those gone before our time and a deeper look at what it means to be human. His hard-won insight into living on this earth has touched us in infinite and heartfelt ways. He was the youngest son of Gwynn and Bess Denton and though he did not see war, he was touched by its heavy hand. He had dreams of a life and career beyond Robbinsville but his heart remained tied to his old home. We are grateful he shared his love of its treasures, the bounty of its blessings, and his own sage-like wisdom.
David Denton, Jr. was born in Williamsburg, KY in 1957. He went to Frederick High School and then Western Maryland College where he earned a degree in communications. He and Shawn married in 1983 and produced three lovely children. They later divorced. David made his profession of faith at the First Baptist Church in Frederick then when he moving to Charlotte he attended the Moravian Church. David spent much of his life in Charlotte or Frederick at various jobs and businesses. Once a month he took time to visit and help with his dad while his mother took a break for respite trips to Yellowstone and Hawaii. His assistance was invaluable. David was a big Panther\’s fan and for many years he and his best friend, Clifton had season tickets. Several family members went with him over the years. His biggest thrill was going to the Seattle Seahawks game where his favorite quarterback handed him the touchdown ball. The handoff was captured on TV.
For each Denton Reunion, Cousin Dave gathered us all like a hen with its chicks. His coordinating skills made this event happen year after year. Each of us were called upon to add to the everyday details and the joy we find in each other\’s company. One of the first faces we would see was Dave\’s with his arms outstretched and a hearty welcome to all who came. Dave\’s skill and enjoyment at being MC at our Saturday evening Talent Show is etched in each mind, heart and funny-bone. He loved watching family members perform, giving out prizes provided by those attending that year. He gave us hope of a bright future and something to look forward to throughout the year. He made it possible to be family though miles apart. His most important accomplishment in cooperation with his former wife, Shawn was to give us Cailen, Hannah and Ethan. For this and more we are grateful.
As we acknowledge these two souls, let us not forget that they were human in every way. They had their flaws and struggles as each of us do. Their bodily frailties at their end were only a piece of what they suffered at times during the fullness of life. As it said in our opening verse in Ephesians- These men have put off their “old self.” They are experiencing “the new self” beyond this life. We each have our times of mental and emotional anguish and know what it feels like to wonder at our own worth and value. We may even have experienced regrets. These men were no different but now they labor no longer. We extend to them and ourselves compassion and grace. As a family, we offer them peace in their eternal rest.
~
Reader: Erin Connor Psalm 30:1-5
I will extol thee, O Lord; for thou hast lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me. 2- O Lord my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me. 3- O Lord, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit. 4- Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness. 5- For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. KJV
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Our Beloved Aunt Peggy & Cousin Mary Margaret wanted toshare some words with the family:
Peggy wrote:
Dave, Jr. was my first born and only son. He was flawed, but he loved the Denton family enough to organize the family reunion and help keep it going. He loved his nuclear family and so enjoyed being a daddy. He read to his children using voices of the characters. He appreciated Bess’s paintings enough to find as many as possible and created a website for them. His sister, Mary Margaret was precious to him. He enjoyed having her visit and took her to his beloved Panther games. He cared for his father to give me respite as a caregiver. I’ll regret the last year of his life, but love him as long as I have breath.
My husband was a spiritual man who found his passion in serving deaf people. He approached the absence of using sign language as a human rights issue. He was invited to lecture in 40 states and 7 foreign countries to spread the philosophy of Total Communication. He was a devoted husband and father who was so proud of his Denton heritage and loved telling stories about it. Half of me is gone now, but his love and that of his family sustain me. Mary and David Flood are helping me hold it together with their love and care. My friends have been faithful and nurturing. I thank each of you who are here for your show of love and family solidarity.
Mary wrote:
My brother David was an avid Emcee. Ever since I can remember, he was finding ways to entertain people. He was quick witted and had a fabulous way with words. Even as a child he had a great vocabulary and he always excelled in school. He was always in the Honor Society and I was always grounded. David was able to dodge all the teenage bullets that I caught.
My brother cherished his family, nuclear and extended. He enjoyed creating skits that we and our cousins staged for our long-suffering parents. David also wrote, cast and filmed his own action pieces. Dad got a call from an employee of Maryland School for the Deaf who had just alerted police to report snipers on the roof of one of the campus buildings. Word got out that there was no real danger, it was just Dr. Denton’s son and friends shooting a film. They were on the roof throwing rifles off onto a mattress on the ground below. One such rifles suffered a broken scope which David promptly super-glued back together. The gun never had quite the same aim. I was frequently a cast member in his productions, but was usually just a dead person in the background.
Despite typical sibling bickering David generally loved me deeply and treated me like a princess. He looked out for my well-being but never judged or tried to unduly influence me. Although he did turn me into a die-hard Panthers fan! We enjoyed many a game together.
David survived some excruciatingly hard times with strength and grace. He was a caring and complex man…often bigger than life. When he walked in a room it was immediately filled with his electric presence. He was kind, interesting and interested. I always felt his compassion and infectious calm.
He was my only brother and I miss him beyond belief. But, his sweet and mellow presence will be felt all the rest of my days.
The cliche about being a “Daddy’s Girl” is too bland to describe my relationship with my father. We inspired each other and were always comfortable in each others company. We all know of Dad’s accomplishments in his career in Deaf Education…he was world renown. We recall his storytelling ability, his amazingly strong, yet easy presence, his musical prowess and love of history, family and nature.
But I, myself to knew a deeper, softer and spiritual David Denton. He shared his highest highs and lowest lows with me. He taught me subtly and not so subtly how to be courageous and humble at the same time. I remember when my brother and I got in trouble and Mom warned us that Dad would use his belt when he got home. Upon arriving David and I would tackle him and get him so tickled and laughing that he’d soon forget all about our punishment. What a pushover!
Other indelible memories were of watching Dad fearlessly and cheerfully jumping into the ocean to play in the “Ooh Aah’s”. And the many times he would send someone or personally come rescue me when I ran out of gas somewhere on the East Coast. My favorite memories of the many evenings we spent on the yellow, Naugahyde couch in the kitchen of the MSD campus singing along with Dad and his guitar while Mom would be cooking dinner and adding her beautiful third harmony to our mellow songs.
Daddy charmed every one he met. He met me on the day I was born and I could never get enough of his sweet soul. Even during his last days as his body and mind betrayed him he continued to grin, giggle, flirt and philosophized. He often alluded to the wonder of growing into yourself as a human being. He often told me, with a cherubic look on his face, “Mary Margaret just let it happen”.
I know that Daddy touched the lives of everyone here today. I am completely grateful that he touched mine as a father, mentor and friend. He will always be with me.
~
Reader: Jana Nivens Isaiah 40:31 But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. (NIV)
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As Mary Margaret and David provide us with music, you may come forward to place your tribute on the grave or your hand on the stone to honor these men who have touched our lives. If you desire a blessing for comfort and peace, I will be here to offer anointing oil and prayer.
Music: I\’ll Fly Away
The LORD bless you and keep you; The LORD make His face shine upon you, And be gracious unto you; The LORD lift up His countenance upon you, And give you peace.
Cathy Denton
Catherine Denton is a Metaphysician living in the Foothills of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Check out her musing on family, life, health, and various metaphysical topics.
My father retired from his 20 yr Army career in November of 1979. Two months before his 40th birthday, he was in peak health and vitality. He could have served longer had mom not reminded him of his promise to leave the military life when he could finally depart the service with a pension. He unwillingly walked across the field with the other retirees to stand in front of the officers and receive his service medal while listening to the accolades bestowed upon them. Ironically, his next assignment was not as easy as the previous ones had been.
Leaving an organized life behind was a bit frustrating for Dad. He now had to find a purpose that produced enough income for his family to live on. A military pension was hardly enough to pay the rent in those years. Three children still at home took more money than he had. He had taken insurance adjusting classes during his tenure as an Army sergeant. He entered civilian life full of hope dressed in his nicest suit.
Selling insurance in the pre-internet age was challenging. Door to door and cold calls on the phone from a borrowed desk in an established agency was his life for several months. We rarely saw him, which was no different for us than when he was in the military. This time, though, he was a small duck in a very large pond. He had once been in charge of large groups of like-minded people, processing new recruits, instructing the common soldiery in Army etiquette or liaison between officers and the non-commissioned ranks. Convincing folks they needed what he was now selling was quite different in this new world he tried to navigate.
Realizing his meager earnings were not in-line with previous Army pay, he felt dejected and worried. Help came from an unlikely corner. A brother-in-law who was a condominium construction subcontractor offered an opportunity. Dad could work for him while attending vocational school to learn how to be an electrician. I loved my dad and was quite proud of his military career but I knew from experience that he would be the last person I would call to fix anything. Most of the time Mom called a repair man to fix what Dad tried to patch up. Now our financial security was in the hands of a man who once melted a screwdriver trying to put a face plate on a wall light switch.
Much to our surprise and eventual delight, this one-time paper-pushing administrator extraordinaire, became a full-fledged electrician. Dad worked near Fort Myers Beach in Florida for Bright Electric & HVAC. He soon had electrical helpers that wanted to work with him. The helpers, all women, discovered Dad was nice, respectful, and didn\’t try to \”hit\” on them the way some of the other electricians did. He taught them what he knew as he was learning it, too. His crew had the fewest mistakes of any team in the company. He found his feet in the skilled trades.
Retirement was not something Dad looked at very hard during his military career. It was a vague idea to be conquered far into the future. He knew one day he would hang up his uniform for the last time but that day was not yet here. When it happened, it must have been quite the shock. A soldier defending his country one minute and a nothing, at least in his mind, the next. He was a man who was ambitious and determined. Retirement did not mean hanging up his boots or sitting in a rocking chair until death claimed him. It became for him, the next challenge and a world to vanquish. Before he retired for the 2nd time, he combined his two worlds by being the project manager over another electrical outfit that built hospitals around the country. He was a somebody again though he was never a nobody to his family.
The Welsh poet, Dylan Thomas wrote- Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rage at close of day, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dad did not go gently into retirement. He raged against the chaos of civilian life and brought order to his new career. At his end, he kept up the fight until Mom slipped away. Only then did “grave men, near death…see with blinding light” to finally retire in full. I feel sure he is still trying to bring order from chaos. Gentle was not in his nature when he was on a mission. He saw his new assignment was to go to Mom and care for her still. It’s been two years since he died. Dad’s rage is silent now, though his light lives on.
~ Painting “Retirement” by Catherine Denton, June 2021
Cathy Denton
Catherine Denton is a Metaphysician living in the Foothills of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Check out her musing on family, life, health, and various metaphysical topics.
Many mornings I walk a 2.4 mile loop up through my neighborhood and back. I pass houses, yards, and street-signs as I wend my way listening to birds, insects and the occasional motor vehicle. Today is Easter Morn and nature was in full throat as the temperature kept to a brisk 39°F.
I love the mornings and feel my best during those early hours when some folks are still drowsy with sleep. The past few months have been a challenge. We had a family member die, another discovered a new health issue while my husband and I were laid low with the recent virus. Creativity flew out the window. No writing, no painting, no trying new recipes…nada, zilch. It was gone along with any motivation except to put one foot in front of the other. Jon and I are back to our routine now and in much better health but stress takes its toll on a body.
This morning was different. It was as if the heavens opened up and shone down on me. I felt more alive and capable than I have in weeks. The song-bird choir and insect symphony eased my over-wrought emotions as I bounced back home in my stretchy pants and Sketchers. Christ had risen on that Eastern Morning long ago. I now felt lifted up as well. It was a New Day.
How are you dealing with life in this moment? Has it felt heavy and oppressive or just long and tedious? I chose to gift myself with feeling the stress of recent events. Examining my reactions and vowing to respond instead, in the future. Grief and sadness are meant to give you pause. Suppressing those feelings are a sure way to make them come up in ways not healthy.
I read a piece from a blogger I like. It was quite hopeful and inspiring. In essence it said to focus our energies and intentions on what we DO want and CAN control. Our fears and frustrations feed the monster at the door. May we all feel risen anew on this Easter Day. Make it a new dawning for you and your family. May you be blessed.
Catherine Denton is a Metaphysician living in the Foothills of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Check out her musing on family, life, health, and various metaphysical topics.
I wanted to share a family video with you all for this holiday season. My parents had a Super 8 video camera when I was young and I recently had all the movies digitized, that weren’t ruined from years of moving and neglect. This film is taken of my mother’s family mostly in South Florida near the Everglades and out in Texas where we were stationed. Dad was in helicopter training school there at Fort Wolters.
It begins with Easter-time in 1967, just prior to Dad going to Vietnam. He is the one sweeping off the table. My Granny is cutting up Swamp Cabbage for our Easter dinner. We all go out into the woods to have an Easter Egg Hunt with my cousins. Mom strikes a pose near the table as Dad pans the scene. Heading to Texas for a moment, my Uncle Billy acts silly pretending to dodge a helicopter. We end the video in 1971 during Christmas at Granny & Grandpa’s house in LaBelle, Florida. I’m the girl with long hair and purple pants. My sister is the girl with short hair and striped pullover. Dad is in the chair holding my brother. Granny is standing in the blue dress and Grandpa is sitting across the room helping my cousin get his gun belt and pistols on. I’m so glad this film was saved.
You would never know the turmoil in the outside world at that time by looking at these pictures. I wanted to remind us all (and especially myself!) that we are what we focus on. In Philipians 4:8 it says- “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” From my family to yours, May your days be merry and bright.
~ watercolor of my grandparents home by a local artist in LaBelle, Florida- Boots Spencer.
Cathy Denton
Catherine Denton is a Metaphysician living in the Foothills of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Check out her musing on family, life, health, and various metaphysical topics.
“Papa. It is time to come in for la cena. Mama says hurry or los hijos will eat your portion.” Tomas watches his father as he wipes his hands on a rag. His padre is so slow. His brother and sister are hungry and waiting on him.
“Tell mama I will come.” Alejandro puts down the rag and watches his eldest son as he races to la casa where his dinner awaits. He is nearly finished with the saddle he is making for don Emiliano Fernando. It has taken a while but he is satisfied with the progress and quality of his work. Too bad don Emiliano is so impatient. He has been by four times this week to inquire as to when the saddle would be done.
He remembers the day don Emiliano commissioned the work. Andalusia in southern Spain stays so hot but that day was hotter than most. Of all the leather workers in Lomopardo, don Emiliano asked him to make a saddle for him.
“Hand-tooled and of the finest leather!” he said. “I plan to compete in the Feria del Caballo in the Spring. Only the best will do for me,” he further explained. They set the terms and Alejandro gave him an expected time frame for the work to be complete, much good that it did.
“Papa!” shouted Tomas. “Here is your plate. I watched it for you so Juan Pedro and Gabriella would not eat your food,” beamed Tomas as he took his place beside his padre as usual.
“Alejandro, you look so tired. Eat so we may all begin,” cajoled his wife, Maria, “Perhaps you need more rest. Do not go back to work after la cena. Rest and begin again manana.”
“I must work a bit more. I am nearly terminado. Don Emiliano expects it tomorrow afternoon. After it is delivered then I will rest,” he smiled at his family and began his supper.
Alejandro walked back out to his workshop the next morning to finish what he started the night before and picked up the beveler. He carefully stripped the edges of the mosquera he made for the bridle head piece then polished it with a cloth making it smooth. He hand tied the little knots on the tassels that will hang from the tooled leather on the horse\’s forehead. Don Emiliano\’s stallion will look very fine for the feria this Spring.
He looked over the saddle once more to make sure it was perfect. Don Emiliano Fernando de Calderon Sanchez will expect no less and Alejandro would not allow it to be taken if it was not as promised. The vaquera saddle was tooled in the \’Campera style with a hand-tooled design of his own on the cantle and pommel. He had never made one so intricate or so fine. He felt pleased that it was some of his finest work and would show very well where ever it is used.
The appointed hour approached and the saddle was polished with beeswax to a high sheen. Tomas was there in the workshop clearing away the debris and putting the tools away in there places. Don Emiliano rode up on his horse while his servant drove a small wagon into the yard. Alejandro came out to greet them. Tomas watched from the doorway as the scene unfolded.
“Senor Alejandro! Is my saddle ready or do I have to come again as I have done many times before?” bellowed don Emiliano. He swung his leg over the pommel and slid to the ground landing on his feet with a thump.
“Don Emiliano,” Alejandro greeted the smaller man as he came to stand in front of him. “Your saddle is ready. Allow me to show it to you,” he said as he led the way to the workshop where the saddle was sitting on a stand above the floor. Tomas, being the good boy he was, scooted out of the way and found a spot near the tool bench to see how the exchange transpired.
Don Emiliano circled the saddle on the stand and frowned this way then shook his head that way. He circled it once more then stopped in front of Alejandro.
\”Senor Alejandro, I am surprised you have allowed me to see your unfinished work! I was hoping for a show piece worthy of the feria. Perhaps I would even use it in Sevilla when I go there to meet with the governor, don Jose Antonio Gomez Iglesias. You knew I was invited to dine with him and his family, did you not?” boasted don Emiliano.
“No, I did not know about your upcoming trip to the city. What part of this saddle you commissioned is not to your liking?” inquired Alejandro calmly. Don Emiliano was known for being a name-dropper and braggart. He was not troubled by the man\’s pronouncement of an unfinished product. This was part of the process of dealing with someone of don Emiliano\’s background of privilege. It seemed a shame that he did not inherit the integrity and compassion of his parents along with their money but that is the way of life at times.
“I thought you would put more than one rose on the cantel as it is my family\’s flower. I am also ashamed to see there are only five tassels on the mosquera! The flies bother my stallion so. He needs at least seven for it to do the job it was meant to do.” don Emiliano tutt-tutted as he circled the saddle once more.
“Pardon me for failing to provide you with what you intended. Perhaps sharing with me your creative vision would have provided enlightenment for me,” Alejandro parried gently.
Don Emiliano looked up at Alejandro for a moment. “It is of no importancia. I can see you did your best,” said don Emiliano in a condescending tone. “Here is the fee we agreed on,” he said as he handed the bag of coins to Alejandro and waved his servant in so he could load the saddle.
When the business was done, don Emiliano along with his servant and saddle were heading down the road. Tomas came out from the tool crib and stood beside his padre. The sun shone down on their heads for a moment before they both by tacit agreement went back into the workshop.
“Papa?” asked Tomas as his father got a drink from the pitcher he kept on the side table. “Why did don Emiliano not like the saddle?”
“Tomas, he liked the saddle. He liked it very much but did not know how to show proper appreciation for it. He has never had to work for what he needs nor did he pay attention to how his parents went in the world, so did not learn la gratitud.” he explained.
“Why did you not get angry when he said he was unhappy with your work? When Jose says things I do not like I get angry with him!” proclaimed Tomas.
“ Tomas, even if he was truly discontento with the saddle, I was happy with it. I did my best work and accomplished what I promised. What he does or says with it now is not my asunto. My only concern is what I did and how I feel about it. That is enough.” answered Alejandro.
~This is a story from a Past Life Regression experience I had a few years ago. I wanted to know about any creativity I may have had in past lives. In the trance, I found myself in Southern Spain quite some years ago with a family and working as a leather worker and saddle-maker. I do not speak Spanish. I apologize for any mangling of that language in the story.
Cathy Denton
Catherine Denton is a Metaphysician living in the Foothills of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Check out her musing on family, life, health, and various metaphysical topics.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. This saying in its basic form is part of many faith traditions around the world. It has been recited countless times in an effort to promote peace among people and among nations. My question to you is- How do we want to be treated? How do we desire to be done unto? You may be thinking- “I want to be treated well. I want to be loved. I want to be respected.” All worthy attributes to desire. My next question is- Do we treat ourselves well in a loving and respectful way? I speculate that for some of us, if we are truthful, our answer would be no.
Many of us are self-critical and disrespectful towards ourselves at times. We make a mistake, big or small, and beat ourselves up over it. We call ourselves names that we would never think of calling someone we care about. We do not forgive ourselves when we falter in our endeavors. We remind ourselves of each sin we commit, sometimes for years on end. We find fault with our bodies and deny it the love it yearns for. When we do succeed at something, we deny those who want to lift us up. We say it was “luck” or seek to distract the person giving the compliment. We do not appreciate those who encourage us and pat us on the back for our efforts.
The world is a mirror that reflects back to us what we truly believe. The mirror is only as clear and free from distortion as we are. If we believe we are victims, then all the world is a perpetrator seeking to take something from us. If we believe we are poor, then the world drains us of our life and our living. If we believe we are unlovable, that same world sends those to dismiss or to revile us. We are shown through others and through circumstance that we are correct in our assumptions. We receive more of what we expect our life to be.
An amazing thing happens when we clear up the lens from which we look. When we are grateful for the good (any good) life gives us, then we are given more good things to appreciate. When we believe we are powerful, the world gives us things that we easily conquer. When we use the gifts that we have in a loving way, we are given positive feedback that infuses our spirit with purpose. The world does not judge what we put forth, nor does it judge what we receive. It is our responsibility to decide what we desire the mirror to reflect.
To clear the lens of distortion and thereby clean up how the world reflects our beliefs, we must heal our hurts. In healing what has caused us pain from our past we change our present and future. The times we were a victim or felt poor can become a chance for us to find the value of the incident and move forward to receive a greater blessing. To choose to look at what has caused us to suffer may not be pleasant for a short time but ignoring it will surely cause untold hardship for years to come.
In order for us to receive from the world kindness, respect and love we must be congruent with that desire. Awareness of what we truly believe can free us. Our attitude toward ourselves must match what we want from others. When we do this, the lens has fewer distortions and the Golden Rule can truly work for us. We unconsciously teach others how to treat us. For us to have what we desire from this life, we must do unto OURSELVES as we want others to do unto us. We can then show the world in a conscious way how the Golden Rule is a win-win for all.
~ From my family to yours- Enjoy this holiday season no matter what you celebrate!
Cathy Denton
Catherine Denton is a Metaphysician living in the Foothills of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Check out her musing on family, life, health, and various metaphysical topics.
“This piece looks good enough. I’ll have Michael cut it to fit that frame I found at the church sale,” Bess said to herself as she scrambled down from the scrap wood pile out back of the house. “Yes. This will do just fine. A little scrubbin’ and sandin’ is all it needs.”
Bess, intent on her project, paid no never mind to the assortment of dogs and cats vying for her attention as she headed toward the barn. Michael was restacking hay back in the barn so the rain wouldn’t ruin it. He saw his mama, who was all of a 150lbs but could out-work him on a rainy day, coming up the road with animals trailing behind, bless her heart. He knew that look. At the ripe old age of fourteen, he could tell when his mama had work for him to do.
“Michael, get your saw out and cut this board for me. I need it to fit that old frame in the loft I found last winter,” she commanded as he brushed his hands off on his already dirty pants to obey. He got the saw hanging in the tool crib from its nail. It was well-oiled and ready for duty. The handle fit his palm just like it had fit Henry’s and Dillon’s before him. He wasn’t sure his daddy had ever touched it. He climbed the ladder and quickly found the requested frame all under his mama’s watchful eye.
He measured the frame and board and then measured again before he took the hand saw and ripped it down the side. The muscles in his arms bunched and flexed with each stroke. He made smart work of the old piece of wood. He wordlessly handed it to her and waited for her approval or displeasure. She was just as likely to hand out either one.
Bess took the board and looking it over, gave a nod to Michael as she walked back toward the house with her treasures. Michael put the tools away and headed to the feed bin to do his evening chores of slopping hogs and taking grain to the steers in the field. He wiped his brow with his kerchief and looked up at the swath of blue above his head and the setting sun over the mountain. Won’t be long ’til supper.
“Mama! Mama! Look here! Henry sent a postcard!” yelled Juliette meeting her mama halfway from the back porch. “Don’t he look fine in his sailor suit!” she commented as she handed the card to Bess. “Yes, he looks mighty fine, Juliette. Did you cut up that chicken like I told you to or have you been dallying on the piano all this time?” Bess asked as she took the card and glanced at the handsome figure of her middle son somewhere in the South Seas by the look of it. She stowed it in her pocket for later.
Juliette glumly went back to cutting up the chicken. It sure was a scrawny thing. It’ll be slim pickin’s from this bird. At least there was potatoes from the garden and tomatoes to eat. That’ll keep a belly full til mornin’. “Juliette! Did you make up that cornbread like I said?” called Bess from the back porch. “Yes, mama. It’s in the oven out back. I put more wood on like you told me,” answered Juliette in an almost but not quite defiant voice.
Bess got out the oldest wash tub and began to scrub the old board with cornmeal, salt and warm water that had been kept on the stove. She could see a picture forming in her mind’s eye. Yes, she knew just what would look nice on this old board. Her hands were raw from the scrubbing but she wanted it smooth as silk- better to blend the paint. She took it out of the water and looked it over. Clean enough she pronounced. Now to let it dry.
“Mama, I’m back from Spanky Roger’s store. They was out of the good cheese so he gave me half-again as much of the other kind. Here’s the sandpaper you asked for,” Lucy said as she dumped her bag of goods on the kitchen table in front of Bess. Bess nodded at her middle daughter and took the sandpaper out to the porch.
As if on cue, the family gathered to the table after the scrawny chicken, the boiled potatoes, fresh sliced tomatoes, cornbread and second rate cheese was put before the hungry group. Hands folded and tired bodies sitting-up straight in the ladder-back chairs, Bess commenced to pray.
“Lord, you’ve given us a good day. The sun is shinin’, the chores are done and your blessings fall down upon us like rain on a parched land. Thank you, Lord for keeping Henry and Dillon safe as they fight the enemy on land and sea. Bring them safely back home when their work is through. I appreciate you sendin’ that travelin’ tool man. You knew that my ax was getting’ mighty dull. Thank you, Lord for this food we are about to eat. We pray that it nourishes and strengthens us as we work for the glory of your kingdom. In Jesus name, Amen.” Bess passed the cornbread and they all set-in to eatin’.
The girls washed the dishes and cleaned the table and floor while Michael chopped more wood for the stove. Soon the sounds of the piano were heard as Juliette practiced a new song. Lucy was writing a letter to her beau, Dan Proctor. Bess finished sanding the board and brought it into the parlor where she had set up her still life. Her paints and brushes ready.
On the table she placed some small pumpkins from last fall that were still good, one of the old milk jugs and her best oil lantern. She had Michael bring in a bit of hay from the barn and arranged it all just so. She put the board on a make-shift easel and began to draw out the scene before her. Her world of children, chores, sons at war and a husband working long months from home gone from her focused mind. Mixing colors, dabbing paint and the smell of turpentine was all there was now.
She worked long into the night when even the children had gone to bed, painting by the light of the lantern in the picture. Finally, the brushes were cleaned, paints tucked away and the easel with a half-finished painting pushed into the corner, ready for when a few minutes of quiet could be found. Bess had this bit of heaven while most days her world swirled around her. A body needs an outlet when work and chores and family far-away gets too much. If you can find a bit of peace in a dab of paint, all the better you’ll be.
***
~This story is loosely based on my husband\’s grandmother and her family near the end of WWII. Bess did the artwork and I imagined a story of her finding time to paint amidst the hustle and bustle of life on the farm, raising kids alone in the mountains of Western North Carolina.
Cathy Denton
Catherine Denton is a Metaphysician living in the Foothills of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Check out her musing on family, life, health, and various metaphysical topics.
She got out of her nearly paid-off Mercedes as she closed the garage door, walked up the steps and opened the kitchen door. She placed her leather handbag on the table and sifted through the mail her husband had laid there when he came home for lunch. A blue envelope caught her eye and she noticed her company’s name at the top. “Hmmm. Wonder what they are sending out. Probably my W-2,” she thought then immediately began pondering tax documents that have yet to come in.
The woman looked up from the mail, saw her reflection in the tall window that overlooked the back yard and noticed that her scarf had come untied. She tied it back in its usual neat off center knot. In the window she could see her classically styled size 12 teal pantsuit looked relatively fresh even after a long day at her office in town. Her warm brown hair had a sexy mussed-up look that tended to happen when she attended a lot of meetings of Fridays. Good thing her husband liked that look, ’cause that was what he was getting today. She smiled to herself as she kicked off her shoes and plopped onto the couch.
She laid aside the envelopes she knew had bills and advertisements in them. She held the blue envelope in her hand, recognized her name and address through the little cellophane window then stopped before she tore open the seal. There was part of the letter showing below her address. She tapped the top edge on the side table to see if the contents would shift enough to see a bit more. Success! She held it under the lamp and read the portion of a sentence that now showed clearly.
…regrets to inform you
Those were the words she read out loud but they screamed in her mind. What the hell! What do they regret? Am I being fired? Why am I being fired? She dropped the envelope beside her and thought about her job for a moment. After 8 yrs, she was darn good at her job! Her department had made the company a lot of money this past year. How dare they think about firing her! She picked up the envelope again and shook it some more to see if more words showed through the little window. Nothing but those first hateful words were view-able.
Maybe she wasn’t being fired. Yeah, that felt better. Maybe there is a layoff. Oh, no! I wonder if Becky is on the list. She just got back from maternity leave. What will she do in a lay-off? She and her husband just moved into their new home last year. This could ruin them. It can’t be a lay-off. Surely the company wouldn’t be so cruel. What am I saying, of course, they could, they are looking to make a profit, not take care of the world. I thought this company was different, that they valued their employees. That was why I decided to work for them. How could I be so wrong?
I know what it is. It’s a reprimand. I knew that little argument with Bill would come back to bite me! He had a point with the logistics of that project but his solution was gonna cost much more than Casey’s idea. I had to make a decision that was viable and cost effective. Why did he have to slam his fist on the table and yell at Casey? I had to ask him to leave until he got hold of himself, didn’t I? He swore he’d get even. Now it’s happened. I wonder if this will affect my future project managing. She sighed and laid her head against the back of the couch.
“Hey, Sweetie,” her husband called from the back door. “How’s my favorite girl? I don’t know about you but I need a whiskey after the day I’ve had. Wanna glass of wine?” He saw her on the couch with her eyes closed. He fixed the drinks and came over to sit with her, handing her the glass.
She opened her eyes as he sat down, took the glass of wine and drank a long gulp before speaking. “How would you feel about moving to a cheaper place, maybe the country somewhere?”
He saw the blue envelope in her hand. “What does your letter say?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t opened it yet.”
“Why not? Could be good news” He took a sip of his whiskey and kicked off his shoes. He mimicked her pose and sat with his head back against the couch.
She looked at the envelope, took another swig of wine then set the glass down on the table. She turned the envelope over and tore open the seal. Taking out the letter she took a deep fortifying breath.
She scanned the greeting and began reading the letter to herself.
American Technology Components (ATC) regrets to inform you that all company paychecks will be late this week due to a fire in our outsourced accounting and payroll department. Your information and all our accounts are safe but the emergency has caused a slight delay. You all will receive a 1% bonus to make up for the inconvenience. A fund has been set up to help the family-run business involved with their relocation should you choose to donate.
It has come to our attention that you and your department were the driving force in ATC’s recent increase in in our fourth-quarter income statement. All of you are to be commended and will receive recognition at the next company Board meeting. You will receive a notice of time and place so you may attend in your weekly company summary.
After several favorable employee reviews and your long track record of on-time/within-budget project management ATC wants to offer you a position commensurate with your experience and capabilities. We invite you to come to our Miami headquarters to negotiate salary and benefits so that you may begin in the new position at the start of the next fiscal quarter. Travel documents and airline tickets will be forthcoming.
Again our apologies in the payroll delay. Your dedication to your work and attention to the welfare of those under your supervision is one of the things that make American Technology Components a world leader among our peers. If you have any questions or comments, please forward them to the Human Resource department.
Sincerely,
She couldn’t believe what she just read. He husband sipped his whiskey and quietly allowed her to read the letter. She turned to him and sat there for a moment. He felt her stare and sat up looking back at her. “Well? Was it good news?” He was met with silence so he asked as he leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes again, “What would you like to do for dinner?”
She smiled and shook her head at all the dire thoughts she had before she opened that little blue envelope. Her motto had always been- Prepare for the worst but Hope for the best. She must have been more tired than she realized. She had forgotten the Hope part of the saying for a brief time.
“How do you feel about seafood?” she mused out loud.
“Sounds good. Where are you thinking?” he answered without moving from his comfortable position.
Catherine Denton is a Metaphysician living in the Foothills of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Check out her musing on family, life, health, and various metaphysical topics.
It was a chilly autumn afternoon where the smell of ripe bananas filled the air along with the faint whiff of Pine-Sol in the distance. I waited my turn to leave the coziness I had become accustomed to. My friend Pepper and I were close, talking over good times but always wondering when our last moments would be. It was too much to contemplate, so we sat patiently in the dark with our unspoken dreams laying waste in the smothering atmosphere of our home. My name’s Arnold, and here’s the story of my demise.
The door to our home opened like an unseen hand compelling Pepper and me to leave our humble dwelling. We were going together. That was a blessing… and a curse. We only knew that when one of us left our home, no one returned. Oh, well. Forward and onward. Better to be brave than … I don’t know what comes next, for we were not acquainted with the brave ones that had gone before us.
Next, we were slathered with a congealed oily lotion but only on one side. We lay there on our backs side by side with the lotion side up. I could smell fire and feel the heat from what could only be our doom. Calm down, I said to myself. You don’t know what will happen. It could be something good! Cold reason took over, and I knew I was done for.
We were joined by a soft, sleek dark golden girl. She shivered slightly then volunteered her name, Vel. We introduced ourselves and lay quietly, awaiting our fate. Vel spoke into the silence and asked if we had done this before. We told her no then asked if she had. She said she hadn’t, but a friend of hers had been brought back home once. They said it wasn’t so bad and told us not to worry. Somehow I didn’t find her words very comforting.
There was a lifting of my body, and then I felt Vel at my back. Pepper was behind her and trying to slide out of the way, but an unseen force firmly held him in place. The heat was getting more noticeable. The acrid smell of burning fat enveloped my being as I fell onto a shiny metal object. Instantly I felt my flesh burn and sizzle with the lotion that had been applied so carefully, not moments before. It was torture waiting for the heat-induced misery to end with either becoming unconscious or burnt to a cinder.
When I thought I could take no more, it happened. I was lifted once more, then flipped around so that Pepper felt the same burning agony that I had felt for what seemed an interminable amount of time. It was then I noticed that Vel was not faring well either, for she had fainted and gone soft- softer than she had been before if that was possible. The air was filled with the scorched smell of friends gone too soon. What else could happen to us?
As before, I felt a lifting of my body though this time we were one unit, fused together for all eternity- Pepper, Vel, and me. We were slowly lowered to a smooth cool surface and lay there, getting our bearings for a moment. I thought, “Is this it? All that suffering to become melded into one Being then left to harden and crust over?” But it was not to be.
I felt that lifting sensation once again. In the distance, a cavern opened and got closer and closer. Oh no! Not that! Then everything went black.
~
On a chilly, autumn afternoon, a mother asked her son sitting at the kitchen table if he liked his lunch. “Bobby, how was your grilled cheese sandwich today?”
~ For all my spooky-loving friends out there on the Inter-webs, Happy Halloween. With love, Catherine Denton
Cathy Denton
Catherine Denton is a Metaphysician living in the Foothills of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Check out her musing on family, life, health, and various metaphysical topics.
