Today is the 27th anniversary of the passing of Paul's dad, L. J. Lillywhite, better known as Junior. We have been reading over one of his journals and have really enjoyed remembering what a wonderful man he was. As we got to the last page the other day, we realized that it was nearly to the day the time that he passed away. Less than a month before his passing he felt quite inspired to write a poem. He wrote several drafts before he got it how he wanted it. Here are some journal entries on the day of his first draft and on some of the days following.
"November 25, 1982. Thanksgiving Day. It is two o’clock in the morning and I can’t sleep, “irregular heartbeat”. Lately I have been reading some poetry and have been unable to understand it. Some of it I like and some seems a waste of brainpower to try and figure out. (1st draft)
"November 26, 1982. This morning I have been out fiddling around the yard. I get out of breath, so I decided I would come in and rewrite the poem I scratched down the other night. (2nd draft)
"After reading and going over it again a few changes more and I will leave it. It was fun to write it. When I first thought of it I sort of felt inspired to put something down. It was such a deep feeling in me and when I got started I couldn’t stop. Good or bad, I wrote a poem, take it or leave it."
Here's the final draft. I think it is pretty great, especially when you think of it as a first try at poetry. He was a wonderful man. I am happy to be considered related to him and to have had the opportunity to know him. We miss him.
**MEMORIES**
By L. J. Lillywhite
Suddenly spring’s warmth has turned to sleet,
Though in Memory it’s still sweet.
Since now the years have dimmed my will,
A youthful phase my heart hath filled.
God the seasons surely shaped,
God surely the times prescribed.
Youth has slipped my grasp.
Memories bring dishonor, regret and shame,
Memories bring honor, love and spring.
Happy the man who remembers spring,
Content the man who forgets the shame.
Spring’s warm breezes,
Summer’s cool breezy caress,
Winter’s friendly fireside warmth.
God sent His children, I am one.
God sent others, I have five.
God sent still others I cannot number.
Memories; with them I live,
Memories of those choice and chosen ones I love.
Though my shoulders slope,
Tis in my children I have hope.
My children? They can cope, they have hope.
Too soon their shoulders will slope,
That thought, sad thoughts provoke.
Still, God the time did set,
Still, God the seasons made.
We were there! We had our say.
I say our say was yea.
Oh! Now I hear you say.
The fray was hard,
The fray was long,
The fray was pain and strife,
But the fray was planned with love and light.
The reward is strength, o’ ye choice and chosen ones I love.
Older now, my body sags,
Still inner strength stands fast.
In retrospect? Memories if you please.
Tis all worth while,
Still I can smile.
Though lo my body may deteriorate,
My soul soars high with Memories great.
Ah, these Memories of youth and grace,
A babe once helpless,
A youth with helping hands,
A man achieving with goals firmly set,
A man requiring others help to step.
These four lines, life’s story tell.
Yet why a difference twixt thee and me?
Why tis in Memories of these choice and chosen ones.
