In Memory of Joanne Connelly

Joanne Connelly, long-time leader of the worship dance ministry at Beth Israel Messianic Center, Wayne, NJ, went to be with the Lord this week. Joanne was diagnosed with leukemia more than 20 years ago. The Lord granted her a long remission from the disease and Joanne spent those years worshipping Him with astonishing grace through dancing and leading the ministry of dance at our congregation.

I searched and searched, but was unable to find a video or photograph of Joanne, but hope you will "see" her in the words of my poem. It is my loving tribute to her memory.

Image credit: theimpact757.com

KODESH L'ADONAI

Holy Unto The Lord

In Memory of Joanne Connelly

Dance

      dance    dance   

           Dance

Joanne's snowy garlanded hair

and white gown

     flow

with music

movement and grace

Her gestures      Holy

The Spirit

         internal

Arms raised high in praise

her tambourine

     tinkles

its streaming

silvery ribbon strands

     glisten

          in the Sanctuary

She leaps     she bows

visage, enraptured

her eyes seem to see

what her heart

sees            Wondrous

her Bridegroom

Yeshua…

"Once I danced

for The Lord," she says

"I could no longer dance

in a secular manner"

so we watch, prayerful

She whirls

     she worships

        in the     Dance Sacred

the dance         dance

        Dance

             Dance…

Maude Carolan

Have a Happy Thanksgiving Day!

Photo credit: hipnewjersey.com

THANKSGIVING DAY HOMECOMING

She smiled as she dusted

the framed family photographs

on the old oak credenza

sang as she swept the kitchen floor

even Lysoled the bathroom bowl

with effervescence

Humming a favorite hymn, the woman

skillfully rolled pastry into a twelve-inch circle

adjacent to a bowl of peeled apple wedges

tossed with sugar, cinnamon, and cloves

Spontaneous praise to Jesus

proceeded from her lips

as she stuffed the twenty-pound turkey

trussed it tidily

rubbed it with butter and sage

and lifted it into the moderate oven

On the antique table linen

that had been stored away

in her mother’s cedar chest

she placed her best china, crystal, and silver

then set a wicker cornucopia

abounding with miniature pumpkins

and assorted nubby gourds, right in the center

Her feet ached, but her eyes sparkled—

This was among life’s highest joys

Her children and grandchildren

would soon be at the door

carrying homemade casseroles

and bringing lots of hugs and tales and laughter

and she would get to serve

Thanksgiving dinner

Maude Carolan Pych

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!!!

In Memory of Dr. McCabe

In memory of Dr. Henry J. McCabe Jr.
Image credit: colourbox.com

WHAT HE LEAVES BEHIND

In Memory of Dr. Henry J. McCabe

My doctor retired in June—

but when I entered his office

just a few days ago

there was a framed photograph

of him, relaxed and smiling

beneath the words:

In Memory of

Dr. Henry J. McCabe

He died two weeks ago

on October 16, 2018, at the age of 69

Those words and that photograph

immediately caused me to tear-up and gasp

He’d been my doctor for 27 years—

a kind man, bordering on holy

with a calm manner and gentle spirit

He was refreshingly unhurried

never kept his hand on the doorknob

always would ask at the end of each visit

if my entire list of questions were answered

Actually, he was like Mister Rodgers

with a stethoscope

with a cardigan sweater

and easy manner of speech

He’d inquire about my poetry

and appreciated when I’d bring him new poems

When my husband, Leo, was dying

from the ravages of lung cancer

Dr. McCabe helped us make decisions

just as if he were treating

his own father

I’ll never forget that

I Googled his obituary

and read a stream of remembrances

similar to my own, and thought

how beautiful it is

to leave behind such a fragrance

how in a world like ours has become

full of so much hate, terror and violence

there are human beings like Dr. McCabe

who leave only goodness behind

peace and gentleness

I will miss you, good doctor

and the sweet aroma

of your presence here will linger

for a long, long time

and when it is my turn

to depart this earthly life

I hope, like you

to leave something beautiful behind

Maude Carolan Pych

Happy Birthday, Hubby!

Happy Birthday, Bob

Robert F. Pych

FOR MY HUSBAND ON HIS BIRTHDAY

For Robert Pych

You’ll be 89 tomorrow, my darling—

a true milestone

There’s so much to celebrate—

reasonably good health, great family

a few wonderful friends

a comfortable life

but most of all

truly, truly, most of all

this is the perfect time to celebrate

enduring love, in these, our golden years

for we live a gentle life

with lots of I love yous

and spontaneous embraces

that generate smiles throughout the day

We take care of one another

and worry about each other

each, in our own unique ways—

You’ve endured plenty of poetry readings

I’ve been known to flip

through magazines at the racetrack

We often gather at the Scrabble board

and squabble about those two-letter words

or by the TV, where we really try

to find something mutually agreeable to watch

Every evening we join hands in prayer

for all the people we love

and some we don’t even know

whose names are given to us by others

to add to our always lengthy list

Who would ever have thought

love would keep right on growing

and be so wonderfully alive

as hair gets greyer

wrinkles get deeper

memories get muddier

and backs get achier

but the truth is

at least in our case, my darling

it does

Happy birthday, Bob!

Maude Carolan Pych