After a very long absence where I've just mostly been using Facebook, I'm finally back. I'll try to catch up.

Last Sunday morning, I had a vivid dream of Daddy's mother, Grandma Rose, walking up to me. I felt I had to preserve that dream in form of a poem and share it with others. I had the week to reflect on the dream and work on the poem. I completed the poem Friday evening. I e-mailed it to Daddy's brother Roy, plus shared it to individual family members at Mommy's family's Mother's Day dinner, and they loved it. As I grew up, Grandma Rose was living in Carnegie, Oklahoma but came Berea for Thanksgiving every year until 1999. I loved those times together, plus the few visits to her house. I got to spend her last Christmas with her at a nursing home in Las Vegas where Roy lives. She had died in October of 2000 when I was 18 years old. Grandma Rose herself wrote comforting poems about death and going up to Heaven. They made me feel better right after she died. I felt she was speaking to me from Heaven. The poems helped me when Grandma Betty was dying too. Grandma Rose's poetry and artwork have influenced me as a writer and an artist. I thought that posting this poem on Facebook would make a fine Mother's Day treat, though Mother's Day is nearly over by now.



A Heavenly Presence on My Shoulder
By Rachael White

I rarely get to dream of a loved one who has died,
So when I do, I cherish the happy reunion in my mind.
It doesn’t matter that when I awaken they are gone.
The enduring visions of us together are ever so kind.

Grandma Rose just appeared to me in such a dream,
Eleven and a half years after she passed away.
I saw her walking towards me in a crowded room.
Her eyes were shut but she seemed to know the way.

I became worried about her not opening her eyes,
And also about the grim look that was on her face.
I wondered if she had developed a blindness
That kept her from seeing Heaven in all its grace.

She ended up reclining directly in front of me
And placed her weary head on my left shoulder.
I anxiously gazed down at her still closed eyes.
My face was just a very few inches away from her.

Suddenly Grandma Rose’s eyes were opening
And she immediately looked upwards right at me.
Her disturbed face was replaced by a huge smile.
My being there was just the thing to make her happy.

I smiled back, deeply relieved that she could see again.
I was very touched by our pure joy to be together.
No words needed to be exchanged between us.
Our smiles showed how our deep bond was still there.

The happy encounter lasted only a bit before I awakened,
But Grandma Rose’s smiling face continued to linger on.
It was just my second dream I had of her since she died,
Though I’ve often imagined her beside me when I’m alone.

We lived several states apart during my growing up years,
But I loved the rare times together that we’ve shared.
I keep those pleasant memories of us visiting each other.
I am a granddaughter whom Grandma Rose really cared.

My Pippin Valentine

Pippin is helping me wish everyone a Happy Valentine's Day this year. He is so special to me. After he disappeared overnight in January and I came to his rescue the following evening after much worrying, I was inspired to draw him for my Valentine card. You can read about his disappearance in the story below. Pippin shows his love to me, and I wanted to share that love with everybody.

The Disappearance and Rescue of Pippin

Note: This is a long story, so allow yourself some reading time.


While my parents were away having an early anniversary trip to Georgia the third weekend of January, I experienced the disappearance of my three-year-old cat Pippin. I let him out Saturday evening when it was still light outside. Later that evening, after it got dark, I saw him at the sliding doors, licking himself, but when I went over and opened the door, he wasn't anywhere on my deck. He sometimes has a habit of running off right when I open the door to let him in, and he was showing it then. I sat on the couch, quite tired and knowing that I needed to get back to my family’s dog Rusty, let him out to pee, and eat supper. I dozed off a few times, but whenever I roused up, Pippin still wasn't around. I didn’t know if he was showing up when I was asleep and leaving again when he saw I wasn’t getting up. I woke up again around one in the morning, and decided to go out onto the deck to see if I could get Pippin inside. I bundled up, stepped onto the deck, and called out to Pippin, but couldn't hear his bell collar anywhere. I thought of my parents far away enjoying their anniversary trip and therefore very much unable to help me find my dear cat. I turned back to the sliding door that was still open, and there was my next door neighbor Deborah Payne's cat Huck, right outside the door. He had heard my calls and wanted to come inside my house! I stepped into my house and shut Huck outside, still wondering where Pippin was. He had been outside for hours and I had not seen him, other than the time he sat at the door and ran off when I tried to let him in. I hated to leave Pippin out in the freezing cold, but I knew I had to return to the other house. There was the possibility of him finding me as I headed over to the other house, and I thought maybe I could convince him to go into my house then. I knew the neighbors were all in bed and therefore couldn’t help me get Pippin back inside my house.


I walked up my driveway and stepped onto the street, and Pippin made no appearance at all. I got even more nervous, since Pippin often runs up and starts to follow me if he is left outside and I try to leave my house. This time, he had already been out on his own for so long. I knew if he was around, he would be eager to see me. I became afraid that Pippin might be stuck somewhere or had gotten lost, even though he knew my neighborhood extremely well. I wondered if he had gotten into a cat fight and became wounded, though I doubted that was true, because I didn’t hear anything resembling a cat fight outside my house. I got to the door of my family’s house, and Rusty was eagerly jumping all over me and immediately started running towards the direction of the yard of what used to be the Bleekers’ house before they moved away. I called Rusty’s name, but Rusty ignored me and disappeared into the other yard. I decided the best thing was to stand in the doorway and continue to call out his name instead of going after him in the dark night air. Now I had two pets who have disappeared in the darkness! I wasn’t too worried about Rusty however. He had run off on me like this once before at night and eventually came back after my repeated callings. I imagined how eager he was to get outside after being shut up inside the house for much longer than what I had intended.


My family’s cat Charlie had stepped outside the house when I opened the door, and was now sitting calmly on the front step as I called out for Rusty. The disappearance of Pippin had made me think of when Charlie was a kitten. Charlie disappeared after just two months of living with us. He had wandered into our yard as a stray kitten towards the end of July of 2004, and after adjusting to life as an outdoor cat being taken care of by us and loving our strokes and attention, he was nowhere to be seen one day in mid-September of that year. We were all very worried. I had become so attached to Charlie, and was so sad he was gone, not knowing if he’d come back. The following afternoon however, I came home from college classes, and Daddy and Emma were sitting by the outdoor fire pit with Charlie right nearby. Daddy said he had gone to our basement earlier that afternoon to look for Charlie, and Charlie came rushing outside. Charlie therefore must have gone into the basement with Daddy the previous afternoon without Daddy noticing. Daddy told me that he had wondered if Charlie had done so, and looked in the basement for Charlie the night that he got lost, but didn’t find him. Since that experience, Daddy built a cat door to the basement so Charlie can go in and out on his own. The possibility of Charlie being trapped in the basement was something I hadn’t thought of then, but now that Pippin had disappeared, I was afraid that he too was trapped somewhere. I have a crawl space below my house, but I didn’t know how he could get in there, since I never enter the crawl space and always keep the door shut. I planned to go to church by myself the next day, and really hoped I could find Pippin before then. In the meantime, I kept calling for Rusty, and after many calls into the darkness, Rusty finally came running back to me.


I slept with Rusty that night and woke up later than intended. I really wanted to get to church that morning since the Starry Mountain Trio were visiting and singing as part of the service, and it was also my pastor Kent Gilbert’s birthday. I thought it would be nice to be with Kent on his birthday, though I continued to worry about Pippin. I hoped that Pippin was just busy exploring around last night and was now waiting for me outside my house, like the other times I had to leave him outdoors. I let Rusty out to pee, though this time he was just trembling in the cold air and didn’t want to go anywhere. By the time I left for my house, there was very little time to get ready for church and I was afraid I was going to be late. I turned onto Center Street and walked towards my house, and there was no sign of Pippin running up the street to greet me. I got to my driveway, hoping to see Pippin at the front door, but I didn’t see him or hear him meowing for me. I started becoming even more worried. I believed something bad had indeed happened to Pippin for him not to show up by now. I glanced out the back sliding doors as I hurried to get ready for church, but there was still no sign of Pippin. By the time I was ready to go to church, I knew I would be about fifteen minutes late, but I decided to go anyway.


I left the house and still didn’t see Pippin. I hurried up the sidewalks towards church, while slowing down and being careful going over the icy places. I got to church just as the first scripture reading was taking place. I had missed the choir singing, but as I got to my usual spot in the back left corner, the Starry Mountain Trio was starting to sing for the Children’s Moment. A girl I knew in my early childhood years and is about my age, Susanna Park, was in the trio, and it was nice to see her again and hear her sing. They sang a pretty song, and then the Children’s Moment was immediately over. Kent asked the children for prayer requests as he typically ends the Children’s Moment. I imagined shouting out to him from the back of the church, “My cat Pippin disappeared yesterday evening! Pray for his safe return! He’s like my child! I’m afraid something’s terribly wrong! He likes to be outside, but it’s not like him to be gone this long. My parents aren’t around to help me look for him.”


Several of the children had pet prayer requests of their own, and Kent ended up saying a prayer for all pets, including the missing ones. My Pippin was being prayed for, even without me having to speak up. I was so moved by the prayer, that combined with me being filled with deep longing for Pippin, I started crying my first tears since Pippin’s disappearance. The fact that the pet prayer was taking place right when my own beloved cat was missing reminded me of when I went blind in the right eye with Shingles last September. The whole church was informed of my blindness and started praying for me. I was so touched by their support. Since then, with a lot of medical attention as well as continued prayers from the church and friends elsewhere, my eyesight has mostly returned. This pet prayer started giving me more hope that Pippin would return too. I was still prepared to go out and look for Pippin, and not rely wholly on prayer, but this prayer was something to encourage me on.


I continued thinking of Pippin throughout the service, wondering what I should do to try to find him. After the service was over, it was a comfort to see friends, though I just confided in one friend about Pippin’s disappearance. She had seen me crying from where she was sitting in the choir, and she was worried about me. It was a comfort to tell someone. I got to be with Susanna again, and she remised about our childhood together. I got together with Kent too, and that was nice, though I ended up not telling him about Pippin. While trying to decide what to do after church, I knew I needed to let Rusty out to pee again, but I wanted to stop by my house one more time and see if Pippin had managed to come back on his own. It was freezing outside, and I was afraid Pippin hadn’t eaten anything since before I let him out the evening before. He might have eaten from another cat’s food dish left outside, but I didn’t know if that was very likely. I walked most of the way back, and just when I was about to cross the street where Harrison Road breaks off from Center Street near my house, a black and white cat that lives nearby me crossed the street to join me. This cat resembles both Pippin and Charlie in that it loves for me to pet it and for us spend a lot of time together. I have become good friends with it. Often when I come by, it runs out to me and begs for some loving attention with a loud and demanding meow. I didn’t want to ignore this cat in my anxiety to find Pippin, so after we crossed the street together, I stayed with it for several minutes as it rubbed up against me and even stood on its hind legs for me to rub its head. I finally made myself break away from my friend and head to my house, but as I was afraid of, Pippin was again nowhere to be seen. I walked into the house, ate a bit, and stood at the back sliding doors, severely longing for my dear Pippin to return. I imagined having to cope with the total loss of Pippin if he never came back. I recalled two car break-ins that my parents recently experienced, and hoped nobody snatched up Pippin. His bell collar showed he wasn’t a stray cat.


I just stayed at my house for a few minutes, and then left for the other house to get Sunday’s paper, let Rusty out, and let Charlie inside so he could eat. My black and white cat friend met me once again, demanding more loving affection. I knew it has a habit of rubbing against me and getting in the way if I don’t stop and pet it, so even though I was in a hurry, I spent a few more minutes with it. I walked to the bottom of my family’s hill, got the paper, walked back up, and finally let Rusty outside. Thankfully this time he didn’t run away, though I had to keep a close watch as he ran around the hillside and interacted with Charlie. I spend a part of the afternoon with Rusty and got on the computer, but I wanted to make sure I got to my house and search around for Pippin before it got dark. I was really desperate to try to find Pippin by now. My black and white cat friend again got in my path, asking for me to pet it, but I only gave it a couple of strokes before continuing on. I knew I could ask my neighbors for help, but I wanted to see if I could first find Pippin on my own before I asked anyone. My front yard and carport were again devoid of Pippin, so I walked into my back yard, calling out to Pippin quite sadly, while listening for any meows or his bell collar. I peered under my deck with its bins stored there, but I didn’t see how Pippin could be trapped in one of those bins without me hearing his meows or bell collar. I didn’t think my brick outdoor fireplace would be a possible source for Pippin to be trapped inside. I walked to my big tree that stood in the back of my yard, recalling when I stood leaning against the tree at the time of Charlie’s disappearance and imagined telling it of my grief. It was right after that when I returned to my family’s house and discovered that Charlie had been found. I wanted to believe that just like then, being with my tree would mean that Pippin would soon make a happy appearance. The tree now has a lot of brush growing up tall and surrounding it, so I couldn’t really reach out and touch it this time.


I walked some more around my back yard, eventually standing at the edge of Deborah’s driveway and imagining Pippin running up to me right then. As I continued to long for my cat, I heard a single faint meow coming from the direction of Deborah’s garage and house. The meow was high pitched and sounded like Pippin’s. Could Pippin be trapped in Deborah’s garage? I had wondered if Pippin was trapped somewhere, but I didn’t think of Deborah’s garage. Deborah rarely opens her garage, just using it as storage space. Pippin being trapped in Deborah’s garage would resemble Charlie trapped in my family’s basement. I became extremely grateful Deborah’s car was parked outside her house. I would need her help if Pippin was indeed trapped inside her garage. I heard more meows and hurried over to the garage. The meows were sure enough coming from right inside the garage door, and when I walked right up to the garage door, the meows came really fast. I was sure it had to be Pippin. I wondered if he could tell it was me out there by the sound of my crutches. I knew cats have excellent hearing and smell, and Pippin could be so desperate, just having his mommy out of reach and still remaining trapped in his garage prison he’d been in since the night before, deprived of all food and human comfort and experiencing the bitter coldness of winter without being able to explore the outdoors.


I had to rescue Pippin right away. I could see a light on in Deborah’s house, so I had further proof that Deborah was home. I quickly knocked at her door, and when Deborah opened it, I managed to blurt out that I thought that Pippin was in her garage. I had to repeat myself before Deborah understood me. She went over to the garage door explaining that she had opened her garage door the night before and Pippin must have run inside without her realizing it. She had earlier trapped Huck inside a few times the same way. Deborah opened the door, and Pippin came shooting outside. Deborah spoke the same thing that I felt, that Pippin must be starving. I was so glad to see my cat again, and Pippin was so glad to be free. The special pet prayer at church was answered for me.


I bid goodbye to Deborah and followed Pippin up Deborah’s driveway. We got to my front yard and the street, and there was one of Pippin’s cat friends, not much older than him. They immediately began pouncing after each other, and Pippin was able to feel the joy of playing with a friend of his right after being trapped in Deborah’s garage for so long. Pippin nibbled on some of the grass in my yard before coming inside with me, where he went straight to his food. He was so glad to be home and eat again, after not having eaten for around 24 hours. I got down onto the living room floor to pet him as it got dark outside. My Pippin and I were together again after all that despair and worry, and I had just managed to rescue him in the last remaining daylight. Deborah’s car pulled out of the driveway right then, so I had just managed to get her help before she left. I could imagine the agony of hearing Pippin’s cries coming from the garage and not being able to get to him because of Deborah being gone. I would have had to leave a note for Deborah or just wait until Deborah came back. I wished I had gone to Deborah’s house earlier to ask about Pippin. I would likely have heard Pippin’s cries then and therefore known right where Pippin was. I know Deborah had walked right past the garage since Pippin got trapped inside, but she didn’t recognize cat meows coming from the garage for some reason.


Pippin soon walked over to the sliding door and asked to go outside again. I hated to part with Pippin so quickly, but I knew there was no chance of Pippin getting trapped in Deborah’s garage again with Deborah being gone. I figured Pippin must be really missing the outdoors. I let him out and sat by the sliding doors to keep watch for him. Pippin came back a little while later, but he did the same thing of running off right when I started to open the door to let him in. That happened again before Pippin finally came inside later on. I sat on the couch, quite tired, and Pippin jumped up beside me. I thought of how the night before, I was full of anxiety, dozing off by myself and waking up several times to face the disappointment of not finding Pippin anywhere around outdoors. This time, Pippin and I were happily side by side on the couch, falling asleep for a short bit before waking up and finding ourselves still together. I was so much more at ease with Pippin right with me instead of him to still be missing somewhere. I eventually had to leave my house again to take care of Rusty and eat supper, but I was able to leave my house much happier than the night before, knowing my dear Pippin was safe at home.


Since that experience, I’ve thought of Kent’s sermon title of that Sunday, “Call of the Mild”. That title being a takeoff from Jack London’s popular novel “Call of the Wild” and reinforcing what Kent was trying to preach, it began to mean something else especially to me. Pippin’s sad meows were calling for help from the garage, and therefore I was hearing the “Call of the Mild”. It was because of those meows that I finally found Pippin. I could also consider it the “Call of the Child”, since I think of Pippin as my child. I think of what I’ve been through as Pippin’s mommy, desperately wondering where my missing child was all night and most of the next day, and then going to his rescue after I finally heard him calling for help. I’ve always liked being by Pippin’s side and stroking his fur, but I treasure those times together all the more now, knowing what it’s like for Pippin to totally disappear.


Back when I became blind in my right eye, I was quite scared that the blindness would last forever, but to provide some humor relief, I rewrote the last line of the first verse of Amazing Grace to say, “My right eye is blind but my left eye sees.” Thinking of the gradual return of my right eyesight plus how I am now full of gratitude of finding Pippin after he went missing, I rewrote Amazing Grace again to say these words:


Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
My cat was lost, but now is found.
My right eye was blind but now can see.


Here's a picture of Pippin that I took the Wednesday after I rescued him from Deborah's garage. I let him inside just as a snowstorm was beginning, and he happily lay down on his favorite pillow on my armchair. I wanted to include the garage I rescued him from. The roof of Deborah's house is just visible to the right of the garage. This show how much happier Pippin is at home and not trapped inside the garage anymore.

Pippin Enjoying My Dresser

As my parents are off on their anniversary trip to Georgia and I am left alone, I felt that I should get back onto my blog and connect with people. Mommy had given me a bunch of clothes to put in my dresser in my house, and last night before they left, I carried a backpack full of clothes to my dresser, with my cat Pippin accompanying me. Pippin often likes to jump onto my dresser, and he became very interested in the open drawers. He found the bottom drawer a very nice place to take a rest. I was quite amused and very glad that my camera was available right there in my backpack. It was hard to get a clear picture without a flash, and it took several tries. I wanted to get the natural lighting from the hall light and my bedside lamp. Pippin had his head buried in a dark and very colorful blouse of mine in this picture.

Pippin then stuck his head up, and I tried to get another picture, but Daddy interrupted the picture taking when he entered my house with cat litter and bird seed. Pippin jumped out of my dresser and onto the stairs, but after Daddy left, Pippin settled on top of the dresser and peered down at me as I still sat on the floor. His pose made for another sweet picture.

Today is Pippin's Third Birthday

My cat Pippin turned three today, and unfortunately I couldn't be with him most of the day, since I had church this morning, and then I was at Berea's Spoonbread Festival all afternoon. I wanted to share with everybody this spring photo I took of him and some flowers from a flowering bush that was hanging over my back deck this past May. Pippin was looking up above my house. He was probably watching a bird or squirrel.



The picture below is a better view of the bush and my big tree beyond. I loved these flowers when they were present. I'm now getting ready for fall.

My Beloved Clown Mask That I Painted and My Poem Honoring It

Back when I was in Humanities class in high school, I was given the assignment of coming up with a mask design, and my first choice was a clown, because I love clowns and I felt that they reflect my inner personality. The mask itself was formed over my face and I painted it afterwards. I have since then placed it on top of a teddy bear graduation bank that I received upon graduating from Berea Community School. My high school graduation cap and previous glasses of mine complete the look. My clown is a bit shabby looking from several falls it had, and the glasses have a loose lens, but I don't mind these imperfections, and I don't think my clown minds either, always smiling. I'm really attached to my clown. My clown is holding his diploma, and I imagine him as the class clown, much like I have made my teachers laugh. In my mind, he is really happy that I treasure him in my life.



Just this summer, I decided to write a poem to honor my clown. I wrote it when my family was away and I was left alone for a week. Writing the poem made me feel better.

An Ode to My Clown

I have a great love for smiles and humor,

And so when I was assigned to paint a mask,
I immediately wanted to paint you, my dear clown.
I knew that painting your face would be a happy task.

It doesn't matter that I painted one eye a bit narrow.

What matters is the big smile on your face.
Although you have suffered several unfortunate falls,
I have picked you up again and held you with grace.

Even with your paint chipped off in several places,
You haven't lost your sense of humor.
You know I will continue to care for you.
My affection for you grows all the more.

Sometimes when I'm upset or lonely, I turn to you.
You remind me so much of my friends who love me.
My friends lead me to smile during our times together,
And we console each other when we feel dreary.

May you and I continue to enjoy our relationship,
And may you bring joy to others as well.
It's been eleven years since I formed you.
May the rest of our years together be just as swell.

I placed the photo and the poem together in the silent auction at Cumberland Dance Week that took place in July, and the finished result proved to be well liked. I loved showing it to my friends and any other people who came by. They were very happy to see my clown and read my poem. Just a few friends of mine bid on the poem, but a couple of those friends wanted it so badly that they kept bidding against each other, and the price of the poem eventually reached $40.00. However, George Paul, the winner of my poem, decided to make a copy to give to Eric Schreiber, so now they are both happy. All the money went to the Lloyd Shaw Scholarship Fund, and I'm happy to support it. Like my poem says, after enjoying being alone with my clown all these years, it's wonderful to be able share my clown with people and let everyone get to know him. My clown's smile does mean a lot.

I'm Trying Out a New Background to My Blog

My blogger has a new feature that lets me choose from a wide variety of backgrounds from my blog post. It has been kind of hard to choose. This bookcase background and a rose background has been two of my favorites. These bookshelves reflect me as a reader and a writer. There are more shelves as you scroll down, making it appear as a super tall bookcase with lots and lots of books. I happen to have several wide bookshelves stacked together with lots and lots of books at my house, since I love to read. Daddy attached them to my walls for me. I look at this background and think of how many real books that I have. I love to write my own stories and poetry, plus draw and take pictures with my camera. I could imagine that these books in the background contain my own writings.

I may try out a different background later. I wanted to see what people think of this.