I have great memories of her writing.....
Several years in a row, she was on the roadshow writing committee for our church congregation. These were full blown 18 minute musicals with plots, costume and scene changes - and of course original lyrics! After winning several years in a row (I believe that was the case), several new "rules" were put into place. My mom thoughts these rules were unnecessary and just plain dumb. So -- she wrote a whole roadshow about how dumb the rules were. And she won. Of course she did. One of my favorite songs - sung to The Toreador Song, from Carmen by Bizet has the lyrics:
"We have the job of making up the rules.
We do it well. They are such jewels.
We do just as the king has asked us to,
Though we are humble and few."
As a young third grader, we had to write a fable for class. I have a very vivid memory of sitting out in the front yard with my mom lamenting the fact that I couldn't come up with ANYTHING to write. I had no idea how to write or what to write about. On the spot my mom made up this amazing fable about why the trees lose their leaves every year. It had something to do with a negotiation between the grass, flowers and the trees for time in the sun while it wasn't hot enough to burn them. It was beautiful! I quickly went inside and wrote down my version of the story, as close to what I could remember from my mom as possible. I don't remember all of it -- but I do remember that I won a writing award for the fable! A red ribbon! I'm sure it is still in a box somewhere.
In college, I called her many times looking for help with papers, with rhyming poetry, or for ideas about stories. And she never disappoints. Ever.
As a grandma, she is known for the great stories she tells and for the amazing adventures she spins about her own grandchildren. She has journals and writings about all sorts of things from her life. This is a talent she has passed down to all of us in some form or another. Whether it is academia, pleasure writing, or song lyrics - each of us has benefits in some way from mom's writing talent.
Just a few months ago, while cleaning out some old boxes, she shared with me a poem she wrote in 2010. She had a book that had a writing different writing challenge in it for every day of the year. The challenge for this day was a poem. Here it is.
The Hidden Forces of Life
Come home - this place is not for you
To settle in and feel content.
Come home - this space is not your own
It's just a temporary rent.
Come home.
Feel this pain? It's just for you
while you are in this earthly sphere
To teach you to want sweet relief
In arms of angels always near.
Come home.
See the plants all dried and bent?
And brown dead grass upon the ground?
Do you not long for all to live
Beyond this grave to which you're bound?
Come home.
To life and love and flowers sweet
Come home to family, friends and more
Come home to find your heavenly place
Come home to all you've know before.
Come home.
-- Janis Smith, Written May 5, 2010
I find great peace in this beautiful poem. My mom has always been a great source of spiritual strength in my life. I am confident in the reality of life after death and the arms of angels waiting for us on the other side as we go home. When my dad was dying, I read and studied much about death and the after life. One of my most favorite and comforting passage comes from President Russell M. Nelson in a talk titled "The Doors of Death". He says:
"Life does not begin with birth, nor does it end with death. Prior to our birth, we dwelled as spirit children with our Father in Heaven. There we eagerly anticipated the possibility of coming to earth and obtaining a physical body. Knowingly we wanted the risks of mortality, which would allow the exercise of agency and accountability. “This life [was to become] a probationary state; a time to prepare to meet God.” (Alma 12:24.) But we regarded the returning home as the best part of that long-awaited trip, just as we do now. Before embarking on any journey, we like to have some assurance of a round-trip ticket. Returning from earth to life in our heavenly home requires passage through—and not around—the doors of death. We were born to die, and we die to live. (See 2 Cor. 6:9.) As seedlings of God, we barely blossom on earth; we fully flower in heaven."
It has been an up and down week for mom. Her dad came to visit for Thanksgiving and we had a great few days... more to come on that. With that came a lot of activity and movement, which can be painful for my mom. She doesn't breathe well and can't hold her breath at all. Something I totally take for granted. You hold your breath for a few seconds all day long!!! I never noticed that until this came up.... when you wash your hair, brush your teeth, cry or talk. All of those things are difficult for her because she can't breathe well. Her lung keeps taking on more fluid though we drain it regularly. She's looking forward to some down time this week before we pack her up to see The Nutcracker on Saturday.
Thank you for your continued well wishes and prayers. I know I feel their strength.
Amy
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