Lyn Cote's Blog, page 81

Craftie Ladies of Romance Thank Mothers & Mentors

I am fortunate enough to be a member of another blog The Craftie Ladies of Romance. Have you ever visited it? Here’s the www.SherriShackelford.com
And I’d like to thank Debby, Lacy, Pamela, Sandra and Sherri for sharing their experiences and thanks.–Lyn
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Lyn Reviews Author Deborah Raney’s Latest, After All

Lyn Reviews Deborah Raney’s Latest, After All

Author Sherri Johnson & The Unexpected Cause of an Untimely Death

My guest today is Author Sherri Wilson Johnson and she has a story to tell about her mother and her unexpected cause of death.  Here’s Sherri:

“Celebrating Life Instead of Grieving it

My mother, Doris, was my friend. First she was my mother and my disciplinarian, who had her hands full with this hyperactive, talkative second-born child. She was my Sunday School teacher, second mom to my friends (who called her Mother Wilson), and eventually my best friend. She made life fun. She decorated the house for every occasion, laughed a lot, and could tell the funniest jokes. She thought her sons-in-law were the cat’s meow, loved her two granddaughters and wanted many more. She was a Southern Baptist preacher’s wife who knew her Bible and never stopped giving even when she had little left in her to give.

The weekend of Mother’s Day 1993, my mother fell mysteriously ill. She had been plagued with health problems for most of her fifty-five years, but this was something much worse. She was one of the most faithful people in my life, giving me advice and, more often than not, just listening to me rattle on and on for hours. To see her struggling to make it through each day was very difficult.

Now that we were faced with this new leg of her journey, we did not know what to expect. My father didn’t think we had anything crucial to worry about—or maybe he himself was worried and didn’t want to scare us. The doctors were sure that her illness was not fatal, so we were all hopeful. However, I saw her go through a physical, mental and emotional deterioration in just a few months. When she passed away in August, it was determined that she died of a heart attack brought on by Sleep Apnea and we were told by the doctors that they had never lost an adult to the ailment. If only they had known the seizures and other symptoms she was having were from Sleep Apnea, then maybe something could have been done to save her.

On that last day with her, I had a very intimate conversation with her. She knew my husband and I were trying to have our second child. As I was leaving her house, she encouraged me to go home and make a baby—a brown-eyed grandson, to be exact. (We have mostly blue-eyed people in my family and one of the first things my mom had noticed about my husband when we started dating was his brown eyes.) I told her I’d do the best I could, in jest, and went home. At 5:00 a.m., I received a call that she had been taken to the hospital and it didn’t look good. So we rushed there only to find out that she could not be saved.

Two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. It was like a precious gift from God! About five months later, I found out I was having a son. What a surprise! Now, if I could only manage the brown-eyed part, all would be complete. I searched the Bible to find just the right name to name our soon-to-be-born son. In Genesis, I found the verses that told how Adam and Eve named their son Seth because he was the replacement for Abel after Cain killed him. My husband and I knew then that Seth was the name.

In May of 1994, exactly one year from when my mom got sick, Seth was born. What a wonderful gift from the Lord and proof that He provides us with a little rainbow after the storm. Joy always comes in the morning. Oh, and the added bonus: he has brown eyes! I know my mom would be madly in love with her grandson and ever so proud of her two granddaughters if she were still alive. One day, I’ll be able to tell her that I was fully paid back for my raising when God brought a second-born son into my life. It truly has been an adventure!”–Sherri

Thanks for sharing your story, Sherri. It’s frightening that sleep apnea, undiagnosed, caused your mother’s untimely death. And so happy you received your consolation, a brown-eyed son!–Lyn

Question: Have any of you lost someone to an undiagnosed disease? Let’s share so that we can be aware of these silent killers.

To read more about Sherri and her books, drop by

More Tributes to Mothers & Mentors

Here’s another reader’s poem about her mother.

Dedicated to my Mother Sandra (Ritchey) Scott

A Job To Do

Born to a girl who had no clue

That her child had a job to do

She decided to allow another

To become her child’s father and mother.

For this act of love the world says “Thank you.”

Raised to be a fine and proper lady

She married a man some said was shady.

Over the next forty seven years

She cried several thousand tears

Working her entire life to be

The best wife and mother she could be.

Wanting an easy life for her children three–

Two brother’s and me–

She was never known to have greed.

Always willing to give to those in need,

She found the opportunity to give to others

The sight to see through optical surgery.

Living her life with dedication,

She donated her body to science education

In hope that they may find the cure

To the cancer disease that took her life

Even in the end she gave one last thing.

She is helping someone in need

To my Mother I say with pride

Job well done. I know you tried….

Written by Karen (Scott) Mingues 2003

And now for two more tributes. One from an author Jane Myers Perrine and one from another reader, Peggy.

I really appreciate my sister-in-law, Diane Perrine Coon.  She spent many years taking care of my darling mother-in-law so my mil could stay in her home.   She always welcomed me.   She’s a brilliant and loyal lady, a respected historian.
Jane
Jane Myers Perrine

Tales from Butternut Creek from FaithWords/Center Street

Hachette Book Group

The Welcome Committee of Butternut Creek April, 2012

The Matchmakers of Butternut Creek November, 2012

The Wedding Planners of Butternut Creek 2013

Author Arlene James & What Influence Can a Grandmother Have?

My guest today is longtime and much loved author Arlene James. She has a special story to tell you about her grandmother, an extraordinary woman. Here’s Arlene:

“I was one of 13 grandchildren, fifth oldest and the second granddaughter. In other words, no reason existed why I should stand out, but that’s exactly how my grandmother, Violet, made me feel. I do not stretch the truth one bit when I say that she had a great deal to do with the person I am today.

Born in an era much different from our own, Violet suffered from Scarlet Fever at the age of eight, with a temperature so high that her hair fell out. Consequently, she would always have thin hair (her “cross to bear,” she would later joke). She was so ill that she couldn’t start school with the other kids. At the age of nine, she was finally deemed strong enough to attended school and did so wearing a bonnet with yarn braids attached to hide her nearly bald head.

Two years later, Violet’s mother ran off with a traveling piano salesman, leaving her seven children behind. The local church promptly tossed out the entire family. The courts never even considered the possibility of letting Violet’s mother take her younger children with her. Everyone expected Violet to throw herself into keeping house, putting meals on the table and minding the little ones, which she did wholeheartedly. It’s my understanding that during that difficult period, my grandmother actually lost weight and stature. (As an adult, she never quite reached five feet in height.) Those in the extended family began to worry for her health again and literally recruited one of her older brother’s best friends to marry her.

She married my grandfather, George, at the age of 13. Yes, thirteen. He was eight years her senior. They married on October 13. Consequently, she later declared that 13 was a “blessed” number for her. George volunteered to take responsibility for Violet’s three youngest siblings, so she came with a ready-made family. Over the years, they would add four more children of their own. Their long (50-year) marriage proved, against all odds, to be a very happy one.

Tragically, at the age of 17, Violet’s baby brother, Bud, was murdered in a knife fight at which he was one of many observers. Violet was crushed. She could not believe God had allowed this to happen and “hated with a cold, hard heart,” her own words, the man who had done this to “her Bud.”

Justice was much more swift in those days, and Violet’s need for vengeance still felt fresh when the accused murderer’s trial began. On that first day, she waited from daybreak in her Sunday best, complete with straw hat and white gloves, for a seat in the gallery. Finally, around eight o’clock, the bailiff let in 70 people, counting them off one by one. She was the first. While milling about the halls of the courthouse, waiting for courtroom doors to open, she paced. Looking over, she saw a “well barbered” young man in a suit sitting on a bench, so she went over to ask if he had the time. He answered her “very politely,” she would say afterward, and lifted his hand to check his wristwatch. That was when she noticed the shackles on his wrists. Here sat the murderer of her beloved Bud. He appeared to be, not some raving monster, but a handsome, polite young man. His guilt, frankly, could not be denied. He’d done the deed in front of dozens of witnesses in a drunken brawl. Yet, he was someone’s brother, someone’s son.

My grandmother did not attend the trial, after all. She walked home, and along the way she began to pray—as she had not done in her anger and grief. Soon, she found herself praying that Bud’s murderer would not hang.

He did. His was the last hanging in that county. Times were changing. Justice became less swift but, hopefully, more sure. And my grandmother learned something about forgiveness and God’s grace that she would teach each of her children and grandchildren, in turn.

When I was nine, my grandmother gently led me to the Lord. Later that year, when I was hospitalized with Rheumatic Fever, she told me why her hair was thin. When my first husband died, leaving me a widowed mother at 23, only two months after my grandfather went to sleep and woke in Heaven, she held my hand and wiped my tears and helped me believe that God had a purpose and a reason.

I watched her weather life’s ups and downs without wavering in her faith or her love for her husband, family, friends or, yes, her enemies. She taught me to endure, to keep on keeping on, to lean heavily on my God and my faith, to pray effectively and to obey, even if grudgingly. She was my confidant, my advisor, my rock, and her death shook me as nothing else had ever done. But she left me fully prepared to stand on my own as a wife, mother, daughter, writer, child of God and, now, a grandmother in my own right.

Violet became my template, if you will, for the aunties of the Chatam House series from Love Inspired. Their back-stories are entirely different, but at the core they are all her. Mags cannot be shaken by anything that life throws at her. Hard work is to be enjoyed, a source of pride, and life reduced to its most elemental joys. Hypatia, or Auntie H, never loses her dignity, is a stickler for life’s little proprieties and somehow manages to rule a motley crew with an iron hand while never raising her voice. She has a heart as wide as the world. Odelia embodies my grandmother’s childlike delight in all things unique and innocently fun, as if the 13-year-old remained, albeit cloaked in maturity and responsibility. Odelia is also the romantic. My grandparents were planning a honeymoon––not a second honeymoon because they’d never had the first––when my grandfather died. I consider their love––indeed, their passion––for each other second only to the faith with which they gifted me. (And everyone wonders why I write Christian romance! LOL)

I wish everyone could receive such gifts, and I pray that can give to my granddaughters some measure of what my grandmother gave to me. May you all know such women of strength!”–Arlene

Arlene’s story reminds me of why I never tire of hearing stories of strong women. Each one is a testimony of the love of God toward us.  Let Arlene know what you felt as you read her grandmother’s story and share a memory of your grandmother with all of us. And remember the MEGA May gift basket is builing up strong. Leave a comment so your name will be entered.–Lyn

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A Reader’s Tribute to Her Mother

Hey! Today I have something special to share, a reader Virginia Archer sent me a poem she’d written as a tribute to her mother. Here it is:
Hello,
I wrote this poem for my Mama.
Hope you enjoy it.
Virginia Archer
For Mama
She was the daughter of a poor dirt farmer,
….even so, she had her dreams.
She dreamed of having a loving family
…and they came true, it seems!
She fell in love with the farmer next door
and her dreams were now coming true.
Married just a year, the first baby came,
and she could hardly wait for number two!
Over the next seventeen years
…each one welcomed with joy…
there were nine more babies,
…four girls and six boys!
When people asked, ‘Why so many?’,
she’d just smile in her secret way,
knowing she had a heart full of love
just waiting to be given away!
Times were hard…I mean really hard,
but eventually the time would come,
when they’d find just the right place,
then knew they were finally home.
Yes, she was the daughter of a poor dirt farmer,
but all along she knew…
even the dreams of a dirt farmer’s daughter,
really can come true!
Virginia Archer
04 -12
What a lovely poem. Thanks fyou for sharing, Virginia.
Do any of you have someone you’d like to thank publicly? If so, please email me your tribute or thanks (doesn’t have to be poem or fancy, just speak from your heart) to l(dot)cote(at)juno(dot)com and I’ll post them on Thursday May 24th on this blog.
Question for you: Is there anybody you wished you’d thanked and didn’t? Take this opportunity to thank them in a comment today.–Lyn



PS-Author Arlene James guests on Thursday–don’t miss her personal story!!!




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Author Allie Pleiter & A WWI Heroine

My guest today is author Allie Pleiter. Her latest book Homefront Hero debuts this month. As you may recall, Allie is a champion knitter and will be asking a question about crafting in your life.

Also remember that in May, all the giveaways are collected into one big gift basket at the end of the month. So leave a comment to be entered into the drawing! Here’s Allie:

“World War I women were as strong as they come.  The whole culture was changing for women during that time.  New possibilities were opening up, the vote was on the horizon, and the fairer sex was discovering just how fierce she could be.

As a modern woman, I found it very satisfying to write about a young woman discovering her worth in 1918.  I never knew any of my grandparents, so this was my way of peering back into what would have been their world.  Turn of the century women fed the souls of the women who would feed mine.

When I uncovered the Red Cross sock knitting campaign during the war, it was like I felt a length of yarn stretching from my needles back to theirs.  I, too, use my knitting to serve–I knit prayer shawls that our church gives to those in need of comfort or healing–and have drawn strength from my own craft in times of crisis.  I spend countless hours knitting in my son’s hospital rooms and treatment centers.  I–like my heroine Leanne–find I can draw peace from the calm of stitching, can let the motions fill my stock of strength while I pray or talk or even teach someone else the craft I love so well.

Like my heroine Leanne, there’s a bond greater than stitching between myself and the women who knit with me.  Like the sewing circles of the past, my knitting groups (for I have several) gather friends around me so that I’m never doing life alone.  Many of us draw our strength from faith, but we never fail to draw strength from each other.

Can a man–especially an arrogant, self-assured war hero–learn the lessons I believe knitting teaches me?  That was the fun of HOMEFRONT HERO; taking a decorated war hero and forcing him to do something he sees as weak.  Something he discounts as “the territory of grandmothers.”  The fact that he discovers just how strong Leanne truly is?  Well, that’s what makes a great story, isn’t it?  I find God is especially good at taking those we call “heroes” and forcing them to learn a whole new kind of bravery.  David, Moses, Joseph–none of them knit, but they’d line up behind Captain John Gallows to tell you God’s heroism is as true as it can be.

Back cover copy:

Dashing and valiantly wounded, Captain John Gallows could have stepped straight out of an army recruitment poster. Leanne Sample can’t help being impressed—although the lovely Red Cross nurse tries to hide it. She knows better than to get attached to the daring captain who is only home to heal and help rally support for the war’s final push. As soon as he’s well enough, he’ll rush back to Europe, back to war—and far away from South Carolina and Leanne. But when an epidemic strikes close to home, John comes to realize what it truly means to be a hero—Leanne’s hero.”–Allie

Author Bio:

An avid knitter, coffee junkie, and devoted chocoholic, Allie Pleiter writes both fiction and non-fiction.  The enthusiastic but slightly untidy mother of two, Allie spends her days writing books, buying yarn, and finding new ways to avoid housework.  Allie hails from Connecticut, moved to the midwest to attend Northwestern University, and currently lives outside Chicago, Illinois.  The “dare from a friend” to begin writing has produced two parenting books, fourteen novels, and various national speaking engagements on faith, women’s issues, and writing.  Visit her website at

MEGA May-Our 4th Annual–What’s so SPECIAL about May?

Since the focus of this blog is real life and true to life ficitonal strong women and their brave stories, I chose May as the month for a MEGA May gift basket.

All the authors who guest this month will donate a book to the MEGA May gift basket. Your chances of being drawn as a winner increase each time you post a comment this month. So don’t be shy!

I have two readers who have written tributes to their mothers and will post them this month. Do you have a woman that you’d like to thank publicly for helping or mentoring you? If so, click Contact above and send me your short thank you. I will post them this month. (If you’re concerned about privacy, I’ll only use first names.)

So here are the first questions to comment on:

Why do you think I chose May as my MEGA month?

If you read my serialized story, La Belle Christiane, last year, you know she had several women who helped and mentored her. Who would Christiane thank?–Lyn

Two Winners!

Ann Richardson won Debra Clopton’s Her Lone Star Cowboy!

Laura Hodges Poole won Peace Like a River the book I handed out for World Book Night. Laura even knew that World Book Night falls on Shakespeare’s birthday, April 23rd!

On Tuesday we begin a new month and if you recall, this blog always celebrates Mother’s Day with MEGA May. Have you heard of it?–Lyn