Welcome to the unveiling of my newly revised blog, under “new management” so to speak – new name, new purpose.
You’ll find this on my “About” page, as well, but it seemed appropriate as my first NEW post:
I decided to revise this, my very first blog, and dedicate it to my beloved Dad, Ben Willis, who lost his battle with lymphoma on Sept. 2, 2002. He was a giant of a man, loved by all who knew him, and one of his greatest strengths was his ability to encourage people. That, therefore, is the goal of this blog – to encourage others through stories, verses, thoughts, and other bits of inspiration.
The header, created in collaboration with my wonderful friend Becky of Stone Alley Hosting, is symbolic of several things. First, the brick background represents the fireplace at my parents’ home; many family occasions took place as we gathered in front of that fireplace in their livingroom.
Second, the photos in the header all represent special moments in his life and our lives with him:
*The blue chair – identical to “his” chair in the livingroom at my childhood home in New Hampshire, where my Mom and brother still live; the chair from which he shared so many of his words of wisdom and encouragement.
*Dad’s photo – on the left, this was from happier, healthier times, during one of the many camping trips he and Mom enjoyed.
*Our photo – in the center, this is my Dad and me; I edited this photo from a much larger family photo from about 15+ years ago, to create a new one specifically for this blog.
*The rowboat silhouette – on the right, this picture was from another camping trip; this one has my Dad and my oldest daughter in it, fishing at dusk.
This blog is my attempt, in some small way, to honor my Dad’s memory and carry on his legacy of encouragement and inspiration, to help others as he helped all of us in his family, extended family, church family, and so many others during his lifetime. This is for you, Dad – I love you.
He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance. ~Ruth E. Renkel
The words that a father speaks to his children in the privacy of home are not heard by the world, but, as in whispering-galleries, they are clearly heard at the end and by posterity. ~Jean Paul Richter
Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes. ~Gloria Naylor