Paula A. Tomey-Allen
I was looking up the word "poignant" for spelling and noticed one of the definitions referred to "profoundly moving; touching". It moved me to thinking about childhood memories and which ones I would call "poignant"?
One that comes to mind is how my siblings and I witnessed the love between our father and mother in one way that we share often.
When our father would want to speak to our mother in a hushed, private tone, he would kneel down beside her as she sat in her "Queen Anne" chair reading the paper and whisper in her listening ear of his desires or thoughts. It was a very private moment, but shared with us to learn that he thought of her as his queen and he was not beneath kneeling at her humble throne.
Our mother passed in 1988, and our father nursed by her bedside and continued to whisper to her waiting ears sweet, humble, poignant thoughts. He has since moved away from Nauvoo, Illinois where they had lived, but in a recent year, he came back to visit and went to the quiet and pristine cemetery where she lay in rest.
There, he once again, on older and weaker, bent knees, knelt at her grave and spoke to her in hushed tones that only the two of them could hear. And once again, we learned about the love that is eternal between a husband and a wife and not only until "death do us part".
One that comes to mind is how my siblings and I witnessed the love between our father and mother in one way that we share often.
When our father would want to speak to our mother in a hushed, private tone, he would kneel down beside her as she sat in her "Queen Anne" chair reading the paper and whisper in her listening ear of his desires or thoughts. It was a very private moment, but shared with us to learn that he thought of her as his queen and he was not beneath kneeling at her humble throne.
Our mother passed in 1988, and our father nursed by her bedside and continued to whisper to her waiting ears sweet, humble, poignant thoughts. He has since moved away from Nauvoo, Illinois where they had lived, but in a recent year, he came back to visit and went to the quiet and pristine cemetery where she lay in rest.
There, he once again, on older and weaker, bent knees, knelt at her grave and spoke to her in hushed tones that only the two of them could hear. And once again, we learned about the love that is eternal between a husband and a wife and not only until "death do us part".
On a personal note: Writing our family history should include treasured memories and inspiring moments. It should be more than a tree and a list of ancestors. It should tell of fathers and mothers teaching by example and children who carried on the lessons to future generations.
Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord: And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers... Malachi 4:5-6
1959, Wright Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio
Thanks a lot for the many tissue moment...we were blessed for the example set before us.
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