"Sundays are Special"

Poem of the Day, Sunday, November 5, 2023

"Sundays are special"

Sundays are special—
When we know the reason why.
When we recognize our worth
and our divine nature!
When we ponder and reflect
upon our many blessings.
When we experience
the sacredness of the Sacrament,
each torn piece of bread
and cup of water, symbols of His Son
who was torn and broken
and who bled from every pore
for each of us.
As we sing the hymns of Sunday
that teach us doctrine and eternal truths.
As peace and comfort distill upon us
like the dews from Heaven.
As we feel the love of our Heavenly Father
enveloping us, touching our very souls,
especially when we feel
down and despondent, lifting us
from the abyss of darkness
through His Son’s infinite Atonement
that wipes away our tears,
soothes our fears,
and teaches us to hear Him,
His soft and tender voice,
always lifting,
always calming,
always filling us
with love, compassion, and mercy.
Still, we have to obey,
do what He asks, live like He did,
love others, strive with all our might,
and minister to all—
surely a small price to pay
to live with Him
and our eternal family
forever!

"Finding Solace"

Poem of the Day, November 4, 2023--"Finding Solace"

"Finding Solace"

It’s a shame to realize that the loudness
and cruelty of world pound us
from every corner of the earth today
and surrounds us with the thickness of dread.
Often, we think there is no safe place

where we can feel solace and peace.
I stay away from the news, hoping
I will not be singed or even burned
by the ugliness and pervasiveness of it all.
Instead, I seek solace in the usual places—

on the beach, listening the waves lap
against the gray sands, retreating,
and beginning again, never tiring
of the push and pull of seeping sand;
or sauntering through the forest and trees,

feeling the softness of the debris of leaves
as I walk along, listening intently
to the sounds of life all around me;
or maybe just sitting in my room, reading,
studying, hearing the tick of the old clock

that Dad made from a stump.
For me, the best place for solace is sitting
and contemplating in the Lord’s House,
the temple, where the Spirit distills it
throughout every room as lights beam brightly,

enlightening my mind and soul,
allowing solace and peace
to encompass me in eternal bliss.
For those brief and tender moments,
I feel I am in my real world,

from which I came and must return.
It is here in the House of the Lord
where we learn to listen to and learn
about solace, surround ourselves with it,
and then share it with others

until they, too, can feel the challenges
of the world weave their way out,
dissipating into the quietness of night,
finally filling them with soothing solace
they deserve and have felt before.

 

"The Profundity of Simplicity"

Poem of the Day 3, Friday, November 3, 2023

"The Profundity of Simplicity"


It’s odd when you really think about it—
the profundity of simplicity.
Most things in life reek
of a ephemerality and shallowness,
non-starters from the beginning.

People seem to be ever learning
but never arriving at the truth
about the simplicity of life.

They draw the things of the world
too close in their line of vision,
thus obstructing simplicity.

They make things too hard
as they overthink
even the simplest of tasks.

No wonder our lives careen
out of control because the simple
has been too distorted, too garbled,
for even simple contemplation.

Simplicity allows us to move forward,
unfettered with the overwhelmingness
of life’s challenges that engulf us
forcing us to spend far more time packing,
unpacking, and repacking non-essentials
and stuffing them away, hoarding them,
instead of shedding them forever.

It is past time to seek the simplicity
of life that will ultimately produce
a profound sense of becoming and being
seeing with utmost clarity.

Darrel L. Hammon

Poem of the Day: November 2, 2023

The Singing of the Leaves

Do you hear the singing of leaves,
the colorful incantations,
humming their way
along the valleys, in gardens,
throughout the forests,
even in city parks and byways?

Perhaps, their hymns jostle our minds,
reaching in and pulling out
other autumns when the leaves played
their serenades, sonatas, and symphonies,
their orchestras and bands

with their clamoring symbols

breaking through any silence
that may be lingering around us.

 

Their concertos of reds, yellows, golds

and repertoire of rustlings create masterpieces

that can only come from their Creator.

We all are beneficiaries, no matter
where we are scattered through
the congregations of believers and connoisseurs
of autumn’s majesty and magnificence.

I felt Thoreau today....

Today begins my November poetry month with Poem #1: "I felt Thoreau today..." A couple of years ago, I decided to dedicated the month of November--my birthday month--to write, publish, and then share a poem each day on my blog and Facebook. At the end of the month, I will have a poetry reading of some of these poems. Stay tuned for more information. 

Recently, my wife and I along with her brothers were able to visit some of historical sites in New York. One of those was Walden's Pond. As an English major, I read some of Thoreau's writings, including Walden. It was euphoric in a way, being there on Walden's Pond and remembering some of his thoughts. Later that evening at the VRBO, I downloaded a copy of Walden and refreshed my memory. From the reading came this poem. Please enjoy!

"I felt Thoreau today..."

I felt Thoreau today at Walden’s Pond.
Granted, it was some years later, but I was there,
standing giddy at the edge of his Pond,
hearing his lilting voice whisper
from all corners of the pond, “live life simply,”
as the sun was setting, spewing rays of sun
across the pond until it slipped for a few moments
behind huge gray clouds that hung sheepishly
yet magnificently across the sky,

creating reflections in the water,
now blackened because of the shadows.

 I thought of my dreams, their directions,
sometimes swerving in and out of the simple path
that I thought I was leading, and how I was living my life,
which I had imagined, even beyond any imagination.

I, too, have met success “unexpected in common hours,”
thankful for the blessings that have seeped into my life
at opportune times, some truly unexpected but appreciated.

Often, along life’s way, I felt the tug and pull
of the “tonic of wilderness”—Montana, Wyoming,
Dominican Republic, and the isles of the Caribbean.
I enjoyed tromping around the islands,
along their sandy beaches and their lapping waves
and through the jagged mountains in the west,
taking photos of everything around me,
always clamoring for more because I could not
absorb “enough of nature” and its majesty.

I, too, learned to “reawaken and keep myself awake…
with an expectation of dawn” 

and what the beauty the day would bring.

While contemplating these things, Thoreau’s loon
swooped in, landed on the pond, stretched its neck
and then dove when a swimmer approached.
Soon, it emerged from the water many feet away and launched
itself against the sun and disappeared over the woods.

I did not want to leave, so I lingered just a bit longer,
basking in the solitude for just one more moment.
Then I turned away and headed back to the road,
thinking to myself “What price would I exchange
for a moment of contemplation and self-realization”

to live as one who advances confidently in the direction
of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life
which he has imagined?

2023 Sunset Court HOA Picnic Extravaganza!

We attended the HOA Summer picnic on Saturday! What a treat! I guess when you combine more than a thousand years of cooking experience and potluck specials, and you put that all on two table, you have a gourmet meal served up for a glorious dining experience and worth going back for seconds! 

From several types of pasta salads to homemade macaroni and cheese to meatballs, to baked beans to rhubarb/strawberry crisp to cinnamon rolls to corn salad—all deliciously divine. 

It was a challenge to choose which dishes to try, so I started at one end and had a spoonful of each. 

By the time I arrived at the end of the table, my plate was more than full. 

For dessert, I had to use another plate to grab a cinnamon roll before they all fled to someone else’s plate. 

It was a delightful afternoon for all 29 of us! 

A special welcome to Dick and Barbara Veatch and Pauline Crump!

Thanks to all of you for the delicious food, wonderful conversation, enjoyable and happy atmosphere, and a beautiful overcast afternoon.

See you all in September for our annual meeting and picnic!

Essentials of Fatherhood: What My Father Taught Me!

"Essentials of Fatherhood: What My Father Taught Me"

My father: Dean Hammon and eight children

Becoming and being a father can be both a scary and wonderful thing. Unfortunately, there is no undergraduate or graduate program in fatherhood. Fatherhood is a learned art — often on the job after the children come. Some of us have had exceptional fathers. Others do not care to talk about theirs. Still others say their fathers taught them a few things, not necessarily through what they said but by their actions.

My father was one of those whose grounding emerged from being the youngest of 12 siblings. When my father was 11-years-old, his father passed away. Thankfully, he had plenty of grown-up brothers and sisters to help him toe the line although the line sometimes blurred. He entered the military at an early age and learned hard things on ships and being stationed in Japan.

My father was not the type for sit-down conversations and flowery dissertations. Rather, he taught us through a variety of methods, probably gleaned from several sources, including his older brothers and my mother. But taught he did.

Here are five fatherhood essentials my father taught me through his example:

Fatherhood is being a leader through example. My father spent time in the Army as a drill sergeant and often we felt we were part of his platoon. He liked to see things accomplished and done correctly. Consequently, he often showed us once how something was supposed to be done and expected us to learn quickly and carry on after he was gone. Granted, he did check up on us periodically to make sure we had completed the task. Often, he had to re-show us how it was to be done, but he did not hover over us.

Fatherhood is helping others and teaching your children to do the same. Some time ago, my wife and I were reminiscing about our fathers. Both of our fathers have passed away. What impressed us both about each of our fathers was the fact that they would help anyone with anything.

Joanne's father would be the first one out on a snowy day and shovel all the walks and driveways down the street. Although he had to drive almost 40 miles to work each morning, he always took time to get up early and do what the neighbors needed done.

My dad and my sisters

My father taught me the same thing. I remember getting up early and going with him to shovel the walks of the widows and older people in our neighborhood or working in their yards and pulling weeds. On his days off, my father would go and help others with their roofs and fences. He did not ever expect to be paid, and he taught us that helping others was just part of the service we performed as good neighbors.

Fatherhood means spending time with your children. What a revelation this is! Whatever event that happened in my life, my father tried to attend even though he worked shift work most of his life. I suspect there were times when he did not have much sleep before he left to go to work. The former drill sergeant who I thought was the tough guy was really a marshmallow underneath. He teared easily when he talked about the achievements of his family. I remember when I received my doctorate from the University of Idaho, my mother and father journeyed almost 600 miles so they could be with me and share in my success.

Fatherhood means teaching children how to work. One of the challenges I have heard numerous leaders lament is the lack of work ethic in recent college graduates and young people. My father would probably cringe if he heard that. He believed in a strong work ethic — true hard work. His favorite line was "No one is going to give you anything on a silver platter!"

One thing I learned early was never complain because my dad would always find more work for us to do. He specifically built a home in the country so we could have animals — cows, chickens, horses, pigs, and sometimes bum lambs. Plus, we had a big garden, which became one of my responsibilities in the summer. From these many projects and chores, I learned to rise early, work hard, and be responsible. I still rise early, even though I do not have outside chores to do. I love rising early, reading and studying, and exercising. 

Fatherhood is being happy. My father loved to tell jokes, and his laugh was contagious. I remember going to one of the Call Me Trinity movies with him and some of my friends, and I thought my friends and I were going to die laughing not at the funny scenes in the movie, but at my dad laughing at the funny scenes.

One of things my dad loved to do was yodel. He said he learned to yodel while tending sheep in the high mountain meadows. One of the treasures we have as a family is a short recording of Dad yodeling. My siblings and I have compiled “Deanisms,” and our children now often pan when we use one, “Sounds like he is turning into Grandpa Hammon.” So be it!

Fathers are natural leaders and examples. Mine was no different. Often, though, his teachings never came from a direct conversation. Rather, they came through working with him and watching him help others as if it were just part of his normal, everyday life. I can only hope I can continue teaching my children and grandchildren by being a good example.

My father with my two daughters in 2004 in Quartzsite, Arizona.