Wednesday, May 11, 2016

THE WHITE LIGHT



My dad had told the story all my life. He was working the farm back in the early 50’s. A plow point had broken, and while repairing it, the tool slipped and went UNDER his kneecap. Being the hard working sort that he was, he elected to borrow a needle and thread from mom, sew it up, and return to work. Yes, that’s how tough my folks were! A week or so later, he became deathly ill from what later tested out to be tetanus.
Still working he became so ill he just HAD to lay down a moment. He chose the coolness inside an old tobacco barn close by. His words, “I suddenly stopped hurting, and felt myself hovering over my body, being drawn to a white light that can only be described as LOVE. I have never felt such peace in my life! Then a barn swallow fluttered in my face and I was instantly back in my body and HURTING again.” He managed to hobble home, was taken to the emergency room and treated for tetanus. This, incidentally, was before I was conceived, so I always told pop he had important work to do!
I had always assumed the whole family knew this story, but several years after my dad passed, my Uncle Jimmy had a heart attack and I went to visit him. He said he almost died, but was comfortable with that and ready at any time. I asked him if he knew my dad’s story of an after death experience, and he did NOT! After hearing it, he told ME a story about my grandmother having the same experience during childbirth back in the 20’s. She was pronounced dead and covered in a sheet. She later described looking down on the room, watching everyone rush around, trying to save her. Then looking up at a bright white light..and GOD whispered in her ear that she had more children to bring into the world. She instantly was back in her body and kicking that sheet OFF!
The next day I visited my brother, Bob, who had heard NEITHER of these stories before. Upon hearing them he told me our oldest brother, Carroll, incredibly, had the very same experience in the hospital days before passing from emphysema. He expressed the greatest sense of peace ever while moving toward a bright light, but was resuscitated by the ICU staff and returning to pain and labored breathing. He complained bitterly to them and immediately signed a DNR form.

Is there a great meaning in having three immediate family members experience the peace of death, but live again to tell about it? I certainly think so. The commonality of such peace and love upon passing makes ME strive to eschew things that KEEP me from that feeling in life, and to embrace all the people, activities, work and things that produce that feeling in life. It is my prayer that everyone reading this will experience a taste of that peace, and make future decisions accordingly.

Friday, January 9, 2015

The Big Idea

THE BIG IDEA - It's the name of a book I got for Christmas.  All about the life changing ideas through the ages that effect our lives everyday...wheels,  bowls, light bulb, microwave, etc. My job is having, then selling ideas to companies. The best idea is no good if you don't sell it. So I have hoards of ideas for designs, songs, and products, so I need to improve my salesmanship. But it all got me thinking...what IS my big idea? What is YOUR big idea? Great food for thought...

Monday, November 26, 2012

The Good Old Days

I turned 57 this year. One of the things I have noticed about this life period is more trips to the funeral home. Tonight my wife, Tonda, and I slipped out to dinner and learned that a lifelong friend had passed and tonight was family night. Even though I was all scruffy (Tonda was perfect as always), we dropped in to pay our respects and hug the family. I was standing with another friend, nephew to the deceased, watching the video of old family photos, and had the epiphany of how alluring the "good old days" are. So on the ride home it clarified in my brain that our todays are tomorrow's "good old days".
      I, like I suspect most of you, tend to rush from one project to the next without truly pausing to appreciate how precious every moment is. So I am going in now to hug Tonda, and spend some quality time smiling...
Happy Thanksgiving!

Friday, August 24, 2012

Parental Praise




I recently (July 2012) lost my 99 tear old dad after losing my 92 year old mom 3 years ago. They were married 72 years! This is a statement about their goodness. Both services were held in the church (Motley United Methodist) that my parents both physically and spiritually help build mid century. My memories during the services were fragmented. Some were obviously spiritual, as this is where I learned my faith, which is a major part of who I am today. Some were musical, as this very church is where I learned to sing, which has also become a major part of who I am today. There were remembrances of lifelong friends made before, during, and after services here. And, yes, some recollections were culinary, because these folks can COOK!

  My mom had a special skill for food preparation, concentrating in the homegrown vegetables just outside our back door.  But my favorite dish was a sweet potato casserole she made using fresh sweet potatoes, sugar and about a pound of butter. This was not only MY favorite dessert/meal, but a favorite at our church. If you never tasted this delicacy, you just have to BELIEVE it was heaven. If you did taste it, you knew! So this brings me to the point of this story…the fine line between believing and knowing. Our home was an environment where we did not just BELIEVE in God, we KNEW God. My parents talked the talk of faith and spirituality, but they also walked the walk, always (to my knowledge) doing the right and Christian thing at every opportunity. I thank God for my parents, but I also thank my parents for my God, for they led me to him as surely as they gave me life.

Jodie Davis Aug 2012

Sunday, April 17, 2011

The Interview

So I became friends on facebook with Jean Jadhon, the CBS affiliate Roanoke WDBJ 7 news anchor, through a mutual friend. Jean posted one day (about time I signed on), asking if anyone had heard of, or tried eating local honey as a way to fight spring pollen allergies. I had just started this, after hearing about it through  local bee keepers, Raymond and Linda Rice. Short story made even shorter, Jean asked if she could come out with her cameraman and film a short segment about my efforts. She did (a very nice, friendly person) and we recorded me playing and singing "A Song For The Life" to talk about my music passion and how allergies can lead you to sound like Willie! The editing was superb, as I was a little nervous during the interview. I have attached a link to their website, where the video is up for a while. Just another episode in my charmed existance of making new friends by being open and friendly...learned that from my folks!
PS- The honey seems to be helping this spring!

See ya soon,
Jodie
http://www.wdbj7.com/news/wdbj7-allergy-suffers-find-sweet-relief-20110415,0,3029698.story

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

The Pencil

This is my first blog. I am looking upon this as a diary, of sorts. I have made most of my living using a simple pencil, and paper, (ok, so NOW it's a computer mostly) so this info I found today in my Writers Almanac from Garrison Keeler, was quite interesting. As a child I was always entertained by simply having a pencil and paper to doodle on. Then I learned to design furniture, write songs, and take good notes using these same basic tools. Life does not HAVE to be so complicated...

Writers Almanac Mar 30, 2011...
On this day in 1858, Hymen Lipman of Philadelphia patented the first pencil to have an attached eraser. The eraser-tipped pencil is still something of an American phenomenon; most European pencils are still eraserless. The humble pencil has a long and storied history, going back to the Roman stylus, which was sometimes made of lead, and why we still call the business end of the pencil the "lead," even though it's been made of nontoxic graphite since 1564.
Pencils were first mass-produced in Nuremberg, Germany, in 1662, and the Industrial Revolution of the 19th century really allowed the manufacture to flourish. Before he became known for Walden and "Civil Disobedience," Henry David Thoreau and his father were famous for manufacturing the hardest, blackest pencils in the United States. Edison was fond of short pencils that fit neatly into a vest pocket, readily accessible for the jotting down of ideas. John Steinbeck loved the pencil and started every day with 24 freshly sharpened ones; it's said that he went through 300 pencils in writing East of Eden (1952), and used 60 a day on The Grapes of Wrath (1939) and Cannery Row (1945).
Our common pencils are hexagonal to keep them from rolling off the table, and they're yellow because the best graphite came from China, and yellow is traditionally associated with Chinese royalty. A single pencil can draw a line 35 miles long, or write around 45,000 words. And if you make a mistake, thanks to Hymen Lipman, you've probably got an eraser handy.
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See ya soon,
Jodie