Ode to Artie

Gone is the story-teller,
Norse twinkle in his eyes;
The teller of tales
tales of things long gone by.

He told of last mob-hanging,
of farming and fishing,
when young journeyed west
why new mothers "face south"
with such skillful weaving
we were oft' blessed.

He spoke with a wry grin,
His tales pouring out and
his chew hidden from Mary
(or so he had thought).
But how could she not know
after three-score ten nearly?

His years: ninety plus some
Not many get that
The things seen and done...
How many tales left untold?

We cry, his passing,
We mourn, our loss;
We knew his going
Long struggle now lost.

But alas we are woefully schooled
Grandpas like Artie
Beloved as they are
Someday enter Glory...more tales still to tell.

We love you Grandpa Artie (1916-2010)!

"The LORD brings death and makes alive; he brings down to the grave and raises up."

"Come, let us return to the LORD. He has torn us to pieces but he will heal us; he has injured us but he will bind up our wounds.  After two days he will revive us; on the third day he will restore us, that we may live in his presence."

"I tell you the truth, a time is coming and has now come when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God and those who hear will live." (1 Sam.2:6; Hosea 6:1-2; John 5:25 NIV)