In Memory Of Iris Marie McVicar Oct 6, 1976 The passage of time does little To soothe the emptiness left inside That arrived the day you left To the place it would reside The memories of so few years together Are left embedded on my mind God choose to take you home that day And leave us all behind The years at first passed slowly That sometimes happens when we are small Now they pass by quickly Yet the loss....not passed at all Grandchildren have been born Graduations & weddings went on But you were still remembered In every loving song I've always felt you with me Standing by my side Your spirit strong, unwavering In the place where it resides Always Loved, Always Missed, Always Remembered ~ Kristal Til We Meet Again One Day ---------------------------------- One more year has slipped away Into time's abyss One more year has passed on by Time with you we've missed Not so many left behind The day you left this earth Numbers now have multiplied With each new family members birth We've kept your spirit living With our tales from years ago Babies you never got to hold We've made sure they all know Don't think we have forgotten You're a part of them as well We've often gathered them together To hear the stories we love to tell This year we all did gather Back to the home you left behind You would have felt so proud to see We were loving warm and kind In groups & sometimes one on one We shared our stories of the past Your spirit alive within us all But how the years go by so fast Through memories you will always be Among us everyday Rest peaceful in death's slumber Til we meet again one day Always Loved, Always Missed, Always Remembered, Kristal My Mother's Kitchen ---------------------------- In Memory Of Iris Marie McVicar I'm not sure when I started At two or three or four To drag my favorite wooden chair Across the kitchen floor Determined in the task at hand I could sense my mother's grin As I pushed & pulled that wooden chair Til it stopped and we;d begin Donning a tiny apron she had sewn With loving hands & care So I would feel "A big girl" While working with her there She shared her knowledge of her art I learned to bake & cook But the memories we created there Could surely fill a book We talked & laughed throughout the days As we added, stirred & measured Life lessons I had come to learnm In my heart will most be treasured My Mother's Kitchen closed one day Abruptly without notice Leaving me to try her art Though I was still a young apprentice Though gone her memory lingered on So did her knowledge and her skill That kitchen never quite the same Her apron.....hanging still Kristal McVicar ©2008

Anonymous Guest post 15-May-03 11:37 AM I wrote a poem years ago about the McVicar Christmas experience and, until seeing this page, had completely forgotten about it. After hours of searching it has been located and I would like to leave it here. It's sentiment being the basis of my own family's Christmas experience. Iris Marie McVicar was a wonderful lady who worked hard to make Christmas an experience never to be forgotten. Christmas was not a day, it was a season, and that is the name of this poem. A SEASON ----------------- Christmas At Our House Was Filled With So Much More Than A Christmas Tree Or Presents Or A Wreath Set On The Door September Began The Season There Was Baking to Be Done Fruitcakes Lined The Cupboards But The Work had Just Begun Caught By Surprise, October Was The Month To Prepare The Pies Christmas Was Getting Closer With So Much More To Realize Christmas Songs began To Echo Through The Halls In Mid-November Mom Would Rush To Bake The Cookies Not Much Time Before December December Was Simply Magical The House Took On A Life Of It's Own Lights Were Hung Inside & Out Sweet Memories Carved In Stone Cabbage Rolls & Sausage Rolls Were The Next Thing Mom Would Do The House Was Warm & Cozy It Seemed To Call To You With Christmas Only Weeks Away The Girls Would Put Their Aprons On The Cookies Needed Decorating This Task Could Take So Long With Only Days Left To Go We'd Set Out To Find A Tree With Careful Consideration How Perfect It Would Be What Joy There Was In Decorating Our Trees Throughout The Years That Final Touch Of Christmas Could Fill Your Eyes With Tears Our Parents Made A Season A Time To Work Together Preparing For The Birthday Of Christ Creating Memories To Last Forever Christmas At Our House Was So Much More Than Just A Day Christmas Was A Season You Would Wish Somehow Could Stay In Memory Of Iris Marie McVicar November 8, 1934-October 6, 1976

His Chair In Memory Of Gilford McVicar Sr. I loved my Grampy....really He was brave & smart & strong But by the time my memories start He was suffering from black lung From aged twelve to sixty-seven see My Grampy worked the mines Picking.....shovelling.....moving That cold black coal along the lines He had heart attacks a time or two Strokes another suffered illness Sick most days...his breathing labored Chest never finding stillness On Sundays after church we'd go To visit Gramps & Gram Each week he'd ask where was I "I'm right here Grampy, Here I am" Slowly I would creep on in So he could see me there Then retreat as quickly as I could Back behind His Chair I always stood behind His Chair Close to the door we entered through So filled was I of fear of death If he died, what would I do? I had a plan in place you see That's why I stood alone I'd run so far & fast I would If he fell or gasped or moaned Wasted hours spent behind His Chair While the others laughed and talked The journey past His Chair for me A journey seldom walked If I could turn back time I know I'd venture further in Hold his hand, look in his eyes Touch his face, his hair, his skin Kristal McVicar ©2008

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