My Mom’s Best Friend

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My son recently asked me about going to church more regularly. Realizing that I hadn’t been attending as often as I’d like, I started looking for a new church community after our move. I found a group that seems to be a good fit and plan to attend tomorrow morning. I’ve invited my daughter to join me, explaining how important the church community was to me, especially during a difficult time in my life.

My mom’s best friend,  Marjorie Erikson, was the pastor of our church. She was an incredibly supportive and amazing woman of Christ. Without her help, I’m not sure how we would have gotten through that period. The church truly became our family.

While talking to my daughter about church, I started thinking about Marjorie. She might not have realized how much she meant to my mom, but to my mom, she was her best friend. Marjorie was amazing and always there for us, even after my mom passed away. She attended my wedding and my daughter’s baptism.

I’ve been feeling emotional today because I just found out in 2016 that she passed away. She was always on my mind, and I wondered if she was still alive or if I could reach out to her family. I wanted to talk to someone who embodied the love and acceptance that God teaches us. She was a light in this world, someone who loved everyone unconditionally.

Her example motivates me to be a better person. While I’m not a pastor, I believe that we should focus on showing love and acceptance to others, rather than judging them or excluding them. That’s not what God wants.

I learned from Marjorie’s obituary that she had been battling cancer for over three decades. This made me realize why my mom and Margaret were so close. My mom also fought cancer, unfortunately passing away in 1990. It was incredibly painful to know that Marjorie had been dealing with this for so long, especially given how quickly my mom succumbed to the disease. It’s a testament to her strength that she was able to fight for 30 years. While it’s difficult to understand why things happen, I’m grateful for the time we had with her and the impact she had on our lives.

Even though it’s been years, I wrote an obituary for her family to see. I’m not sure if they will receive it since so much time has passed. I wanted to express my gratitude for her friendship and the impact she had on my life. I hope her family sees it and knows how much she meant to me. Her legacy is something that everyone should strive for. She was a truly remarkable person.

To Marjorie Erikson and her family,

I know it’s been a long time, and our lives have taken different paths. I wanted to express my deepest gratitude for everything you and Majorie did for my mom during her illness and after she passed. Your support was invaluable to me and my brother. Mom couldn’t have asked for a better friend than Marjorie. Your kindness and generosity will always be remembered. 

Rev. Marjorie Eriksen Faithfully served churches throughout New Jersey Rev. Marjorie Eriksen, 74, a retired, ordained Elder in the United Methodist Church, went on to be with the Lord on Tuesday, Oct. 11, 2016, after battling cancer for three decades. A wake will be held at the funeral home of Burroughs, Kohr & Dangler, located at 106 Main St., Madison, N.J., on Thursday, Oct. 20, from 12 noon to 2 p.m., with additional hours from 5 to 8 p.m. on that same day. Marjorie’s funeral will be held the following day, Friday, Oct. 21, at 10 a.m., at Morristown United Methodist Church, 50 South Park Place, Morristown, N.J. Marjorie was born in Staten Island, N.Y., on Dec. 8, 1941, the day after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. Her beloved parents, Lewis and Edith Gott, named her Marjorie, which means “Pearl.” Marjorie earned her B.A. from Hunter College in 1964 and her master of divinity degree from Drew Theological School in 1984. During her years of active ministry, Marjorie faithfully served churches in Gladstone, Mendham, Elizabeth, Bayonne, Mount Tabor, and Bloomingdale, N.J., prior to her retirement in 2012. Marjorie is survived by her beloved husband, Neil; her son, Christopher; her daughter-in-law, Rev. Jean Arlea Eriksen, who is also an ordained Elder in the United Methodist Church, and her sister, Judy, and her son, Gregory. Marjorie’s family requests that donations in lieu of flowers be made to the ministry and missions of the Morristown United Methodist Church, where Marjorie assisted her friend and colleague in ministry, Rev. Dr. Brandon Cho, during her years of retirement.

Silent Whispers Turned to Dread

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Silent Whispers Turned to Dread

A tiny bud, a dream unseen,
Took root within, a verdant sheen.
My body bloomed, a vessel warm,
To nurture life safe from the storm.

But silent whispers turned to dread,
An empty echo where hope once tread.
The fragile bloom began to fade,
A hollow ache, a love betrayed.

Tears fall like rain on barren ground,
A symphony of sobs resound.
My arms reach out, a grasping plea,
For what I held, I cannot see.

The world moves on, a careless beat,
Oblivious to this crushing defeat.
But in my heart, a love remains,
A whispered name, etched in the rains.

Though grief may linger, sharp and cold,
A tiny seed in memory holds.
I’ll learn to dance with loss and pain,
And hope one day, love blooms again.

Whispers on the Breeze

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I write this poem with whispers on the breeze,
Of parents lost, too young to hold their knees.
Grandkids unseen, stories left untold,
A love’s sweet melody, forever on hold.

Though stars now hold them, distant, ever bright,
Their spirit lingers in the fading light.
In laughter’s echo, eyes that hold the sea,
A glimpse of them, forever lives in me.

We trace their features in each playful face,
The stubborn chin, the smile’s familiar grace.
In bedtime stories, whispered soft and low,
Their love unfolds, a seed begins to grow.

We build sandcastles where they walked the shore,
And sing the songs they hummed to me before.
Their absence hangs, a tear that won’t descend,
Yet in their memory, our love will transcend.

Mom

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I miss your smile, your laugh, your touch.
I miss your presence, your warm embrace.
I miss your advice, your guidance, your support.
I miss your love, more than words can say.

I know you’re in a better place now,
But I still miss you every day.
I wish I could talk to you, just one more time.
I wish I could give you a hug, one last time.

But I know that’s not possible.
So I’ll just have to cherish the memories we made.
I’ll keep your love in my heart, always.
And I’ll never forget you, my dear mom.

I love you always and forever.

Death is All Around Us

Seasons go by, leaves change, they wither and die.
Then flowers bloom, they grow standing tall and then die. 
Death is all around us. 

It seems strange for life to go on without you.
To make decisions, to be happy or sad. 
To live life when death is all around us. 

So much death, and yet we are expected to pick up and carry on.
When you are gone.

Seasons go by, leaves change, they wither and die.
Then flowers bloom, they grow standing tall and then die. 
Death is all around us. 

The years go by, and more death comes. 
The older we get the more death comes for us and our loved ones.

And still we are expected to pick up and carry on.
When you are gone.

Seasons go by, leaves change, they wither and die.
Then flowers bloom, they grow standing tall and then die. 
Death is all around us. 

Did You Hear My Words?

You didn’t say anything.
Did you hear my words?
Do you know?

Did you know that I prayed for you every day?
Did you know you were never far from my thoughts?
My heart ached for I knew you were in pain.

You stopped talking to me.
But I didn’t know.
If you could talk or
Was it just me?

Did I do something wrong?
Did you hear my words, or
Was I a bother to you?

You didn’t say anything.
But I kept praying
And now I am left with wonder.

And now you are gone.
And I will never know.
If you heard my words. 

Flight 532

grey skulls piled on ground
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There were five survivors: John, Abigail, Michael, Beth, and Lily. Flight 532 took off with 200 passengers with no issues. The flight crew went through their routine checks as they always do; but nothing could have prepared them for what was to follow. 

Without warning, the plane lost altitude and crashed somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. The scene was horrific as passengers struggled to unfasten their seatbelts and free themselves from the sinking plane. Those who freed themselves had to swim away from the wreckage as it sank, pulling the others under the water. The seawater filled their lungs; the pressure built as plasma from their blood filled their lungs, preventing them from breathing. They drowned not only from the seawater, but from their own blood that had filled their lungs. 

Bodies washed up on the shore, still moving and struggling, but only five stood and walked to the sand. 

Those five did their best to help the dead and injured to no avail. The smell of blood and death in the water attracted the local sea life. Sharks and others came to feed on the victims. Soon the water turned red as the sharks fed on the remains.  

Lily did her best to help. The blood and gore didn’t bother her as much as it affected the others. Oh, the bloodThe sweet smell, she thought as she wrapped the bodies for burial and placed them in the shallow graves the survivors dug for them. 

The others thought Lily was in shock or suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder; but, she wasn’t. Death excited her. 

They found shelter for the first night; but, that first night was when the winds came. A strong wind rushed through the beach and swayed the trees, calling to Lily. She moaned in her sleep as she heard the wind. “Lily…. Lily… come to me, Lily.” The voice grew louder; but Lily kept sleeping. The voice grew so loud that she put her hands over her ears to block out the sound, but still, the voice came. 

As much as she tried to sleep that night, the night the winds came, and she kept having nightmares. The same nightmare repeated all night. 

In her dream, Beth was sleeping when a figure appeared before her. The figure, a shadow of a man, appeared to smile as it stood over Beth. Beth woke with a start and screamed as the figure slit her throat. He continued to cut into her as the spray of her blood spewed from her body. When the figure left, Lily crept over to Beth’s body. She ran her fingers through Beth’s hair and moved her fingers in the blood, as if it were natural to do so. 

 “Sleep well,” Lily said with a smile. 

Lily woke panting with a sickening feeling coming over her. Then in an instant, screams filled the air as the others woke, “Beth, Beth!” the others screamed as they searched for her. Only a pile of blood lay where Beth once slept. 

Blood covered Lily’s hands. She looked at them and then ran to the water to wash them.  How could this be? I told myself it was just a dream. Why are my hands covered in blood? Where did Beth go? When Lily finished, she returned to the group and helped them look for Beth; but, they never found her. 

After a while, they had given up hope on finding Beth. Lily sat on the beach staring at the waves, trying to push away her feeling of guilt. I smiled and laughed as she died. What’s wrong with me? 

  The next night the demon killed John. Lily laughed and danced around the tree as his feet dangled in the air.  Every night the demon killed another person, and the excitement in Lily grew with each kill. The dreams excited her.  The demon strangled Abigail. That one didn’t excite Lily as much as the other ones had. She found she enjoyed watching the blood pour from the victims far better. He even let her cut off Michael’s head. Oh, how exciting it was to slice through his neck as the blood splatter upon her face. Why am I acting this way? Something or someone unlocked this – my want for blood and death. 

On the fifth day, the beach was silent when Lily woke. She was alone. The only sounds she heard were the lapping of the waves, the beat of her heart echoing in her ears, and the voice. Still, the voice called to her once again. 

“Who are you?” Lily called out. “Why are you giving me these dreams?” 

The winds stopped as the voice fell silent. Lily was the only one left. Was this demon coming for her now? What did it want with her?   

Lily walked into the woods hoping to find what was hunting her and kill it before it could kill her. She found a stick and took out her red pocket knife. She sat on a nearby stump and sharpened it, thinking she needed something to defend herself if she ran into this demon figure. She walked for hours as the sun rays burned her back; Lily knew it was late afternoon. She kept walking, thinking she should turn around and go back.. She could be back at the beach by nightfall; but, then she came to an abandoned cabin. It was a wooden cabin, and the stench of rotting flesh filled the surrounding air. It turned Lily’s stomach, and she turned away to vomit. The smell before had excited her; but, this was far too pungent. She growled, “Get it together.” Shame came across her face. This smell should excite her and not make her sick. She was not expecting the smell to be that pungent. After a few long moments, she regained her passion, her excitement, and explored the cabin. 

She grabbed the doorknob but pulled away as blood was covering it. The blood shocked her; but, it did not faze her. She entered the cabin and let out a gasp as she saw the bodies of her fallen peers hanging in various positions. Abigail sat in the center of the room in a rusted steel chair with straps confining her to the chair. Weapons of torture lay all around the workshop. Michael’s body lay on a wooden table with two clamps holding his head in place. Beth lay on another table, a metal one, and poor John. He dismembered John’s body and placed each body part in a glass jar. Her hands shook as she examined the jars. This is insane. Get out! Get out now! 

Winds came rushing in behind her as the door opened. She turned to see a figure standing there watching her. “Welcome home, Lily. Are you here to join me or just watch as you do in your dreams?” he asked. 

Lily froze in place. Part of her wanted to run – run back to the beach and away from this creature, but another part wanted more. Another part of her wanted to stay. She wanted to stay and explore, experiment, and kill. Holy God, she was becoming a monster. 

The shadow moved toward her, sensing her inner turmoil, “That’s a good girl. I can tell how excited you are. We’ve been waiting for you.” 

Lily smirked, for she knew this shadow of a man would not hurt her. He wanted her to help him. Help him, yes, I want to help him.  

“Now go home and dream of more victims for me,” he commanded. 

The next morning, she woke up back in her bed at home. Was this a dream? She walked into her living room and turned on the news. 

The reporter spoke, “Yes that is correct 199 passengers on flight 532 confirmed dead.” 

She gasped as she felt a cool breeze rush through her apartment. “Lily….” The voice was back. She turned around as the shadow figure was in her doorway.

Check out Nancy’s latest book:
Ramblings of a Chaotic Mind and The Shadow Realm Chronicles: Maeve
This is a collection of poems, thoughts, short stories, and art. I hope you enjoy them.

Ramblings of a Chaotic Mind- https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09YYKHG6S

The Shadow Realm Chronicles: Maeve https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GNBLGVR
The Shadow Realm Chronicles: Matthew https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08HKJ57FM
The Shadow Realm Chronicles: Justin https://www.amazon.com/dp/B092JPL3HP
The Shadow Realm Chronicles: Maurelle https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B8GW9SC8
The Shadow Realm Chronicles: Annabelle (Coming Soon)
The Shadow Realm Chronicles: Marius (Coming Soon)

The Creed of the Chronauts- https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B8WKXJSD

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If You Were Here…

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If You Were Here...

 I just need to talk to someone.
There is no place safe to talk.
Who won’t judge and won’t be hurt by what I say.

I know if you were here, I could talk to you.
I know I would be talking to you now,
And so many other times before.
If you were here.

I need someone to talk to,
A safe place where there is no blame.
A place where I can be honest and 
A place where you won’t be hurt.
A place where I can say whatever I need,
And you will just listen
And no one will be hurt.

I need you, your voice, and your wisdom. 
If you were here.
 
 

42

42, it rings in my ears at each age
Growing closer at each step
At age 11 it was a distant number
but now sitting at 41, the horror sets in.

An age that was once so far away,
now sits on my doorstep.
Will the same fate befall me?
Will my kids lose everything, all in one day?

One long dreadful day,
It felt like the sun would never rise,
and my heart would never mend.
The hole in my heart and
The despair that I would never
See you again.

All the things you missed.
All the times I needed you.
All the times I tell my kids.
Who you are, so they know,
And love you as much as I do,
But they will never truly know!

Oh, this horrid age,
The despair comes back and the fears.
Will my kids live without me,
As I lived without you.
A mother’s worst fear and a daughter's reality.
  

The Fear

mysterious child shining flashlight on face covered with blanket
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The Fear

 The fear of this reality.
The fear of life and it’s end.  
The fear it builds in us, and we don’t even realize it.
The fear we have, so we don’t live our lives. 

The fear we have that sits with us every day.
The fear that keeps us in doors.
The fear that keeps me from the hug.

The fear that we are not in control.
The fear no matter what we do, grabs us and binds us to it. 
The fear that all I do may not be enough.
The realization that it will never be enough.

I lift my fears to you my Lord. 
I lift them to you, please take them.
For I am not in control.