Clouds
Clouds don’t seem to care where they’re going. They are content to follow the directions of the spirit of the air, enjoying the journey as they make their way to their purpose. Though they are unaware of their desination or their purpose as they travel along, they find themselves eventually called upon to join forces and deliver liquid life to the earth. Often exhausted, they whither and die, having given all of themselves in doing their work. But, as those clouds die, others are reborn from their seed to carry on the purpose.
A brothers love is steadfast, a brothers love is true
Forever supportive, strength inside is stemmed from you
A brothers love gives you the hidden warm embrace
It affords us all the privilege of time and place
A brothers love protects us from things that are bad
Our hearts connect us in such a way, that times are never sad
A brothers love, will always fill our heart minds, and souls
They are the part of this family, that makes this family whole
A brothers love, it lifts us up to plateaus never known
Regardless of the spoken word the love is always shown
A brothers love is loud and bright
Its a miraculous thing of life
A brothers love , just, so so so , soothes ur soul
It wraps you up and makes you whole
A brothers love is unconditional, a brothers love is pure
A LIFE LONG BOND THAT WILL FOREVER AND EVER ENDURE
A brothers love wipes away your tears and takes away your fears
A brothers love is beautiful and kind
Forever withstanding the sands of time
My brothers love can bring a smile to my saddened face
It eases the pain of this everyday place
A brothers love opens my heart,
Because of his life i been apart
This is a poem i shared with Cliff a few years ago, by Shirley Ann Parkinson.
Love never fails
That’s beautiful, Doug. Thanks for sharing it!
Im gonna share a recipe for a drink that probably only my southern cousin will recognize. When we were young dad would by a big can of spanish peanuts and , of choice the drink of choice in our home was coca cola. Dad would take a few slurps outta his bottle then shovel a handful of spanish peanuts into it. There was nothing dad would do that us boys wouldnt do also,
GOBBER RULE
In my day to get the pretty girl you better be able to dance. Well ,,Cliff dances like a chickin with his head cut off, but that pretty little girl hes been married to for 39 years, only saw gene kelly…
This may be something that Cliffys blog followers my not completly understand, but today he held my hand and said, weve had a wounderful life havent we brother? I looked into hes sweet eyes and said, “I have nothing i need to say to you”…..
Ya’lls dad raised you to pick on each other meant to love one another and I just love that about ya’ll. I think it makes that bond so much stronger. There was certainly NEVER a dull moment. I’ve really never witnessed anything else like it. There was never a doubt that you three boys didn’t love one another as deeply as anyone could love. Its very rare and you are all very blessed.
Cliff and Nancy raised 4 beautiful children, they are each different, but have just amazed me with there strength. Each have stepped up to do Wat must be done in a way that only a dad and mom like cliff a and nancy could raise there babies to be. The youngest of the four is somewhat like me, not able to accept what will be, but she will show a strength as strong as an oak tree
We had some pretty amazing Daddies , didnt we Lisa..
Uncle Doug,
I love you soo very much. You have no idea…
I am at home tonight and obviously not sleeping well. I miss my Dad. He called me tonight. He asked me when I was coming back…LOL It feels good to be needed and makes me (literally) sick to my stomach to be away for the night, But I knew I had to be with Charlie and Abby. I told him I would be back tomorrow (I guess thats today…LOL). He said to me, “good”.
My Dad LOVES his brothers. Our entire lives have evolved around what has always been an important part of who my Father is and where he came from which is the love from Grandma and Grandpa. You three are the most amazing brothers and what you have shared needs to be given to us right now as often as you can. Us kids need our Uncle Andy and our Uncle Doug…always.
Doug wrote:
“I have nothing i need to say to you”…..
I understand that completely! But I learned how to understand it from your brother Cliff. Thanks Doug for sharing with us. You might not understand this but we at BG even though we may not have met you face to face Love you as much as we do your brother. Please keep telling stories on Cliff. WE LOVE IT!
Grace & Peace
Geo
Doug,
I can understand what you mean by “I have nothing I need to say to you.” That’s what I felt when my Dad died. As you may remember, his death was sudden and unexpected, but that is how I felt,too. Though I miss his physical presence, I look back on the openness that was always between us and know there was nothing else that needed to be said. I think of Uncle Toody and Uncle Joe, and my dad, as well as how much you and Andy and Cliff love each other and am amazed at the kind of love that is there. You all seem to share a quality that can’t really be put into words. Maybe it’s a Hazelbaker mystique kind of thing.
With great and abiding love, Connie
Bruce, Love the clouds metaphor. Poignant and beautiful! Thanks for sharing it. Love, Connie
We are all so lucky to have benefited from the very sweet showers gently brought as Cliff, drifting on the Wings of the air into our lives.
I am a little upset with myself that when the opportunity was there I missed it. I let my work schedule prevent me from an opportunity to spend an entire weekend with Cliff and many of you at the Grace Gathering. Now I wish I could turn time back a couple of years. The soaking I would have received I’m sure would have brought nothing but much more good into my life.
Although by experiences with religion made it hard for me to trust anyone called pastor I sensed, even through the web, that Cliff had something special that many with titles didn’t. And though some could take his title no one could take the loving pastoral heart that God gave this man. He seems to love and encourage so naturally.
My loss. I guess I will continue to sit here with tears in my eyes for a while.
Cliff Andy and I were raised in northern Indiana, our Dad was raised on a small farm outside the town of Danville ,Ill. I have always suspicion that our Dad was actually raised by kickapoo indians, because there was always so many rituals and rites of passage that us boys had to achieve. I am going to share with you the one we knew as “the run to the sycamore tree”.
Our winters were harsh and it was not uncommon to have snows of 20 or 30 inches on the ground at any one time. It was always during them times that Dad would give the challenge to see if any of his boys could make the run to the sycamore. There was only one rule, u had to run to the tree and touch it, and you must do it wearing only your jockey shorts.
Every year we would accept the challenge without failure.
Doug, Hilarious! I can just imagine the three of you in your skivvies making that run!
It is quite possible that your dad was raised by Kickapoo indians. As I remember, that little white frame house they grew up in was right next to Kickapoo Park.
This ritual I will call ,”Popcorn night”. Every saturday night my Mom would make big bowls of popcorn and homemade fudge, and we would all sit around the , TV, and watch gunsmoke and wagon train, or maybe the Red skelton show. Dad had only one rule for us boys, we could eat all the popcorn and fudge we wanted, but the first time u needed a drink u couldn’t have any more. Cliff always lasted the longest, but to this day i believe Mom was slipped him some of her coke when we weren’t looking.
Theres a song by some other brothers that musta had to the same thing.
Its called “whippin post” by the Allman brothers.
There is actually four of us brothers, the fourth, my uncle Eric, came to visit today. He reminded me of the days that the “Gang Green boys” would terrorize the town of Danville. Dad would let us take his 1964 studebaker lark, a bright red car he called the rose bud and cruse the town. Andy would get outta sight of grammas house and we would strip the hub caps so the Black wheels were exposed , that was kinda like the $1000 chrome low profile wheels of today, and he would take he air cleaner off the carburetor so the rose bud would have a low throaty sound when u accelerate. We each had nicknames, we weren’t as cool as the gangs to day, we didn’t have nice like snoop dog or Ice Tee, Andy was, Big Al , Eric was, Pierre, Cliff being the youngest unfortunately was called(cover your ears) Little Shit, and I was, Little piere. We spoke to each other in the worst french accent you can imagine, even Steve Martin (pink panther) would be discussed. When we saw people walking on the street we would put our heads of the window and with our best french accent , would howler “hey hey hey piere is in town”. Needless to say we never got lucky, and even had a guy try to run us down to whip our butts.
Hey Hey Hey, piere was in town
I sure am enjoying the memories, Dougie. I have to admit, growing up as the baby cousin, I wondered if I should be scared of those wild yankee boy cousins of mine. Somehow, all your excitement and passion for life smothered any fears and left me just grateful to be a Hazelbaker. We love you all and are praying for you.
This will be my last story for the night. Its called “The ring of fire” and Johnny Cash has nothing to do with it, but you will know one of the reasons my little bro has no fear.
When Cliffy was maybe 12 he had some small amount of change in his pocket. Andy and I said we wanted some of it. Cliff said no. So we decided to teach him a lesson of sharing. We took him down and tied him up and took his money. It was in the fall of the year and we put a ring of leaves around cliffy. Outside the ring of leave we laid his change, then set the leaves on fire. As cliffy screamed to Mom that we were gonna burn him up, we took compassion on him like only a Hazelbaker brother would, and we carried him throw the burning leaves (tied up) and throw him into the pond. So as u wounder how my brother is without fear today, remember he reached for the hand of god many years ago.
goodnight bro
Great stories Doug.
My Dad,
There are no words needed to describe my Dad. One look in his eyes, one touch from his hand and he will forever move you. I had a poster when I was a teenager that I will never forget. If you Love something, let it go, if it comes back to you it’s yours and if it doesn’t it never was. I now understand its meaning and my mother said it yesterday to my father. She told him that he was never hers, that he was sent to her as a gift from God. God has decided that it is time for my father to return to him. My Dad was never ours but an angel sent to teach all that he could, the meaning of a perfect world and a perfect love. My Father has truly loved everyone and he only saw the perfect soul that God created in us all. My hope is that God will send our angel back in someway to continue to touch others, whether in the sparrows he takes such joy watching, or a lonely soul who’s lost his way.
So until God takes our Gift back home, we will cherish every single moment and thank our heavenly father for letting us borrow his angel.
His Daughter,
Tammy Sue
Tammy, All I can say is, Wow! I hope my children evidence that kind of faith when it’s my time to leave. You all continue in my prayers! Love, Connie
Cliff,
I have been tuning in to your blog every day, sometimes 2or3 times a day. What a wonderful gift for you and for all of us who are sharing this with you.
The other day, Harvey and I were discussing what it will be like when we die. I didn’t realize until I read your views on reincarnation that we pretty much believe the same way although I didnt think of it at the time as reincarnation.\
I talk to your mother almost everyday. Her heart is breaking and I know she wishes she could change places with you but how wonderful for you that she is there to see and comfort you through this.
I love you Cliff. Our lives will not be the same without you in it. Judy
I love you Uncle Cliff!! That is all I can really say. You make us all strong.I know that god has plans for us all. I think about you all daily. Even before this , you all were always in my thoughts and my prayers.
Love your niece, Tina
THE STATION
The Station
Tucked away in our subconcious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the contenent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat ,of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides,of city skylines and village halls. But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station.Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true, and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering……waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.
‘ When we reach the staion, that will be it ” we cry.
When I’m 18. When I buy a new 450 SL Mercedes-Benz. When I put the last kid through college. When I have paid off the mortgage, When I get a promotion. Whe I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after. Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream, It constantly out distances us. Relish the moment is a good motto, especially when coulpled with Psalm 118:24: This is the day which the Lord hath made. We will rejoice and be glad in it. It isn’nt the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomarrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today. So stop pacing the aisles, and counting the miles. Instead climb more mountains, eat more ice cream,go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets,laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.
My Cup is running over!!!!!!!!!