A Poem, Followed by Thoughts on Wonder and Family
This was published on my own web site on January 23, 2008, but I am just now posting it here on HomeSchoolBlogger.
In this issue, you will find my poem "Over Utah in January", memories of my grandmother Margaret Driggs, practical and inspirational thoughts about instilling a sense of wonder and building family memories, and finally a poem called "Parting" by my step-grandfather, Dr. Howard R. Driggs. Enjoy!
I am giving you the poem first without photographs, so you can focus on the words. Then I will give it to you again with the photos... And now, with pictures...
Over Utah in January
by Virginia Knowles
I am in the sky looking down on
Vast speechless stretches of frozen white
Curved round and round by
Slicing crevices and streams
And human roads abandoned though they be
Foothills then soaring mountains beyond
Majestic tall yet distant small
From the sky where I look down
Clustering pines (wilderness steeples)
Defer to barren ground below
Shedding to it cumbering, nurturing snow
Upright spires green
Evergreen over branches, trunks, rough and woody brown
Rooted deeply into ascending slope
Yet as living arrows aiming high
To the sky where I look down
Up and over mountain towers, fly
Peering through mottled fog outstretched
Amid earthy upturned layers, variegated ripples
Shadow clouds now upwisping sharply angled peaks
Oh! These are of no human construct or design
Not even marked by footprints in pristine snow
Just fingerprints, signatures divine
Where winter earth meets winter sky
Yet in the valley I see manly habitation
In patterned rows, casual curves beneath the mist
Nestled in yet beckoned to a deep and high communion
Only bold ones venture beyond certain fringes
Strive upward, breathe hard, ascending steep, behold
Some faithful cannot climb but still lift souls to see
To know and long to know
Others seem content merely to stroll in evenness beneath, below
Oblivious to wonder
I am in the sky looking down
Then gazing up in awe at Him
Who gazes down in grace on me below
On me, who sees and longs to know
Over Utah in January
by Virginia Knowles
I am in the sky looking down on
Vast speechless stretches of frozen white
Curved round and round by
Slicing crevices and streams
And human roads abandoned though they be
Foothills then soaring mountains beyond
Majestic tall yet distant small
From the sky where I look down
Clustering pines (wilderness steeples)
Defer to barren ground below
Shedding to it cumbering, nurturing snow
Upright spires green
Evergreen over branches, trunks, rough and woody brown
Rooted deeply into ascending slope
Yet as living arrows aiming high
To the sky where I look down
Up and over mountain towers, fly
Peering through mottled fog outstretched
Amid earthy upturned layers, variegated ripples
Shadow clouds now upwisping sharply angled peaks
Oh! These are of no human construct or design
Not even marked by footprints in pristine snow
Just fingerprints, signatures divine
Where winter earth meets winter sky
Yet in the valley I see manly habitation
In patterned rows, casual curves beneath the mist
Nestled in yet beckoned to a deep and high communion
Only bold ones venture beyond certain fringes
Strive upward, breathe hard, ascending steep, behold
Some faithful cannot climb but still lift souls to see
To know and long to know
Others seem content merely to stroll
In evenness beneath, below
Oblivious to wonder
I am in the sky looking down
Then gazing up in awe at Him
Who gazes down in grace on me below
On me, who sees and longs to know
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.” Psalm 90:2
“In his hand are the depths of the earth; the heights of the mountains are his also.” Psalm 95:4
“For behold, he who forms the mountains and creates the wind, and declares to man what is his thought, who makes the morning darkness, and treads on the heights of the earth—the Lord, the God of hosts, is his name!” Amos 4:13
“I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1-2
“For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made.” Romans 1:20
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 I wrote the first draft of "Over Utah in January" on the airplane on my way to Salt Lake City for my grandmother's funeral. I hadn’t realized just how mountainous Utah is in areas! I tend to think of it only as the Great Salt Lake and endless miles of salt flats. I was so taken by the snowy mountains that we spent the better part of one day just driving around taking pictures. But even from our hotel and from the cemetery, and really wherever we went, we only had to lift our eyes to see the towering mountains surrounding us – and I think I gasped in amazement every single time. (Can you tell I am from Florida, where we have neither mountains nor snow?)
As most of you know, my paternal grandmother Margaret Driggs passed away on January 13 in Denver, Colorado at the age of 98. A week ago I flew to Salt Lake City for her funeral.
My brother, uncle, and father at the casket with the mountains in the background...
My sister Barb, who couldn't join us due to illness, sent the following eulogy to be read by my father:
 My first memories of Grandma Driggs are of visiting her in Bayside, Queens. We ate English muffins with jelly using the fancy china. She was always so elegant, even when feeding little children breakfast! Grandma was always the epitome of elegance and propriety, from the way she dressed to the way she spoke and carried herself. I believe that she valued reading and writing above all things. One of my prized possessions to this day is the hardcover set of Louisa May Alcott novels she gave me when I was a teenager.
I wish I could have known Grandma Driggs as a young woman, when she was a reporter in Kansas City, falling in love, as a young mother. I wish I could have known her when she was my age, in her 40s, working with Dr. Driggs, raising young adults, playing the piano. Of course I didn’t know her then, but my intuition tells me that this was the happiest time in her life. If your happiest age is the age you are in heaven, I suspect she’s there in her 40’s, playing ragtime with her newly nimble fingers. The last time I saw Grandma was when my daughter, Carrie, and I visited Denver years ago. At that point she called us "the girls", as she wasn’t sure who were. She did know that she loved us and that we loved her, and that was the most important thing.
 (My brother John played the ragtime version of "Just a Closer Walk with Thee" on the piano at her funeral in honor of Grandma. At the reception, he played other jazzy tunes while a Driggs cousin, Dan Christensen, sang along. What a memory!)
| 
Feb. 3, 2009 - Beautiful