November 11, 2008

If anyone visits and has facebook I am trying to learn new tricks........Annette updates and photos are there since joining around Halloween.........however, this old dog is aging and the body and mind are certainly proving that theory...........odd, tonight someone posted a comment about my poem The Old Oil Lantern...........if you are reading this, thank you............

The Birthday Boys.......Clay, Brandon & Raleigh

A Hooter's Happy Birthday for Clay

Explanation of Photos

Can you believe that after dropping in on the SC Lutheran Synod Assembly last Friday afternoon with his dad, (Clay who feels he wants to also be a Presbyterian) the two ended up at HOOTERS? of all places to meet one of Dad's coworkers?????????????? About six of the gals came and sang Happy Birthday to Clay but somehow DAD only got a picture of primary cutie (main waitress) below? Wonder if she got a good tip?.........probably, I recommend you attend Presbyterian church?...........this after wanting his dad to purchase a cleric shirt at assembly?..........Clay certainly is warped.....takes after his mother. On Sunday we got the following birthday photos of Brandon (26 on March 7), Clay 23 on Monday, and Raleigh rescued on Clay's birthday by Brandon from a Charlotte highway a year ago..............Raleigh being the exact duplicate of Brandon at age 5 with four legs..........payback Brandon!............Montco is Brandon's dream self created production company......he has grand goals.........Clay asked for a 'Christ necklace' so you see the one he chose at Family Bookstore on Saturday, and Raleigh is momentarily still just before jumping in Brandon's truck to return to Charlotte. It was next to impossible to get all three looking in the same direction (that would be at the camera lens!) at the same second.........but, this is how they turned out. So, now you know what my four legged, furry grandson looks like, and please pray for us as they think they will be home for the weekend sometime tomorrow. We will be blessed to have Brandon home during my surgery and recovery as he is able to assist us hopefully some of that time. The gray haired 52 (72? ha, per Clay) year old father is the one shooting the photos thereby explaining his absence in appearing as the four most special males in my life..........oh, I forgot Kleckley, Clay's deaf white cat!!!!!!!!! Sorry Kleck.....................love and hugs, Annette

The Hilton Protective Association (aka my daddy)

The above sign is posted beside our kitchen door. Funny thing, a few visitors have asked about it recently. I tend to forget that folks come to my door and read the sign that hangs alongside. It has been there about two years now. There is great history in the sign. When I was a little girl, Lake Murray was often just a weekend and/or summer retreat for most people who did not actually live in the local areas prior to the lake's formation. The lake is very large and the 'building' of it was quite an accomplishment. Many families moved to other areas as their land was cleared for future water. It would be amazing to be able to fully look back at the before, the during, and the now after. Many million dollar mansions now occupy the exact spaces that modest 'weekend' cabins once stood. There are those that still stand and date way back when, but for the most part, old has been torn down over the years, and luxury, high end homes have replaced the original ones I vividly recall in my memory. Some things still exist I am glad to report amidst the mental decline. G Richard Shafto, a wonderful man who shaped much of my childhood memories, had a lake home below my parent's home. Jake Meetze Road, the physical address of the Falls family, is virtually surrounded by Lake Murray. The area where hwy 76 turns onto Wessinger Road, Chapin has always been referred to as HILTON. If you travel past our home, (and the home of my parents very close by........a stone's throw if you have a great arm) you must come back unless you depart to a different location through floating passage. It is amazing the number of homes that now occupy the acreage that was basically pine wooded everywhere, as little as thirty or so years ago. I can accurately recall that Jake Meetze (Metts) for those of you who call it Meet-zee Road, was hard topped the summer of 1964............I know this because in late June, that same year, my baby brother was born and joined our household. A phone call to the next door neighbor (could not even begin to see it next door) prompted my older sister and I to come running home when my parents returned with him. I remember still the dark, very hot, sticky asphalt as I ran (it felt like the speed of lightening) the distance to behold for the first time, my baby brother Lee. Funny, I do not at all recall him............but I vividly recall the 'pavement'.........funny thing isn't it? Years and years later I can also vividly recall that often our summer entertainment was popping huge, swelling tar bubbles with our toenails under the hot, relentless sun. I think it took a consecutive 365 days to wear off the tar plastered upon our bare feet. Oh how much fun Lee and I had, trying to out do the other in finding and defeating the largest of boiling tar bubbles............that explains my size 5.5 foot............not sure how Lee's grew so much longer! Obviously, I suffered more severely than he did..........could not let my baby brother out do me, could I? Mr Shafto was basically the founder of WIS radio and WIS television......channel 10 in the old broadcast days. He and Mrs Shafto, Treva, often spent weekends and longer spells at their beautiful lake home. My father became a valued friend of Mr and Mrs Shafto. Daddy helped keep up their yard and also was considered by many to be the best fishing guide on Lake Murray. Mr Shafto often depended upon my father to guide him to the best black bass in the state. He would bring up other business men, lawyers, doctors, educators to enjoy a day or more on the lake under the careful and skillful guidance of my dad. Governor James F Byrnes loved to fish under my dad's supervision. Mrs Shafto would almost always stop by our house and include Lee and I in 'errands' out to the Hilton stores.........Slices and Haltiwangers. She would take us to one and then faithfully the next trip, take us to the other store for 'treats'........jigsaw puzzles, crayons, coloring books, perhaps a little candy here and there. I will always smile at the memory of a miniscule "Stuart Little" scooting across the crowded, piled on top of everything else, store floor under our feet and Lee exclaiming........"I want one of those!" Mrs Shafto made honest attempts to teach me to swim off the dock but I never mastered it........to this date, I still wonder if I can float. I look out at my bird feeders and constantly argue with the squirrels that refuse to earn their sustenance honestly and I recall she despised them also, calling them rats with fancy tails. Mr Shafto loved photography, and many of our photos from the 1960's were taken and developed by him. Because their home was relatively 'isolated' back then, Mr Shafto depended upon my dad to supervise the security of the dwelling and land. He was so inventive that he ran some kind of alert through the phone line (remember party lines?) to our house and if someone 'broke in' an alarm would go off in our hallway outside my parent's bedroom. Daddy would grab his shotgun and off in his truck he would go. Sometimes my two older brothers went with him as backup. The sign pictured above was posted in numerous spots throughout the lake's point in and around the Shafto residence. Mr Shafto had them made and I suppose in many ways the signs 'thwarted' some attempts from others to make themselves welcome at the time. Over the years as I have driven by car, no longer by bicycle nor stunted foot, to reminisce my childhood years, I have noticed many of the signs from then, bare of words and weather worn. I shared with Fred the story of the signs and one day, soon after my parents made the decision to move to the Lowman Home, assistive living facility, I began to ache to 'own' one of the remaining warning signs.........I contacted a retired doctor who still owned one of the original farm houses where the signs were posted. He has a couple still on his property and I asked him if I might be able to take one. To my delight, a few weeks later, the sign at my door was left at my parents front porch. The doctor had decided and taken upon himself to give me the sign that was the best preserved and hanging upon his farmhouse side. Fred did not have to climb the tall tree for the beaten up one; the doctor had gifted me greatly with a physical memory. I immediately, after basking in the surprise of it all, placed a nail at my kitchen door and hung the sign that is not that much younger than I am, and likely aged more gracefully with a wonderful history to tell. It is the sign pictured above. I forget that other people must wonder what the heck the sign means. No hunting, fishing or picnicking?.........A couple of weeks ago when Clay's new love seat was delivered, the younger delivery man asked me......."do you have trouble with people picnicking?"...........it took me a moment to realize he had read the 'sign'..........and then the explanation. Oh let me tell you..........my daddy was the Hilton Protective Association a long time ago............. The second photo shows a wreath that used to hang on my door until the neighbor's cat realized birds liked to nest in the bottom curvature. It was relocated to the motion light early last year out of harms way. This is already the third brood of baby finches this year........they simply keep building new nests on top of the 'poop' filled older nests. So I guess they eventually decided they were not hunting, fishing or picnicking; or just maybe, they already knew the rest of the story. Love and hugs, you are always welcomed at our kitchen door! Annette 5-14-2008

Time Away

Hard to imagine that it has been nearly three months since I took time to post a new blog entry. A quick comment today sparked me to come back for a while, so I appreciate your sincere interest in the things I somehow put words to. I am still feeling like a worn out lantern, as my previous post explained; however, careful preservation over the next several months should allow new energies and strengths to find a way back to my personal vessel. I honestly admit that I am actually scared with the coming health interventions and protections.........I thought I had enough of those kind of things performed on me already. Yet, I seem to need to rid myself of unnecessary parts that will hopefully bring more energy and spring to a gal rapidly approaching an old bitty. Finally, the decisions have been made that such surgery has become a necessity in the now instead of somewhere down the road. I sometimes like long roads, but hopefully, prayerfully, this sojourn will grace us with calm and healing moments. My greatest concerns are keeping up with Clay's daily needs and fear of going through another strenuous, lengthy round of adhesion conflict. If I could just be assured it will not be as tough as my surgery in October last year..........I, yie, yie........no fun at all. Clay will become 23 on May 19..........a young, brilliant and handsome adult man who was never to live out his first breaths. How he blesses all of us whom he pours his love and mischief upon so eagerly. How his face lights the dark in our days and nights when life gets muddled and tough and non cooperative of late. He is the glue that keeps our sanity.......and believe me, God gave him a very tough assignment in keeping us sane.........not always 100%, but often close enough to pass. This mother's love of this child is immeasurable and he returns it to me so exuberantly it wells tears of pure joy and love spilling down my face. Sometimes I wonder which of us is truly the strongest of the two............I think it is in reality a complete toss up. Sometimes it is heads up for mom and the next day it will be that for Clay and vice verse when our heads fall down time to time. The incredible potential in Clay keeps us going as a family unit. We strive and we advocate and educate to any one we can straddle in of his incredible life journey right here in our very midst of our community. The grandest thing is when Clay has increasing opportunity to be out and about with peers, he really starts to shine and show others who he really is on the inside..........a brilliant, warped, comedic, all loving disciple of Christ. The face of Clay shines as the face of Jesus..........brilliant, loving and uncondionally compassionate towards others. How did I get so lucky? Brandon celebrated his 26 birthday on March 7. He was born in Tulsa Oklahoma, nine and a half months after I lost his brother Taylor prematurely on May 21, 81 at about 26 weeks. ...a 2 pound 14 inch perfect adorable baby boy sleeping. Another tiny baby boy, Brandon was 5lbs and 15 oz and was 18? inches tall...........NICU for four weeks, then came home at five pounds to our new home and we becan to learn how to be a family of three. Oh the bliss of having Brandon home and growing and happy and oh so loving and gregarious, yes, even then! Our cat named Megan was our only nursery monitor at the time and she did a very great and dedicated service to Brandon by always letting us know, YOU need to go check on the boy. She would run from his room to us, to his room to us, over and over again...........Finally we got our acts together and she decided we were becoming worthy of her precious sweet smelling, squirming little bundle of something......a boy? Brandon was the perfect baby and toddler...........friendly and almost always demanded acknowledgement from people whoever they may have been, at least just take a second and acknowledge him in some manner.........much successful with his tactics.........he was just so incredibly cute. Time took us to Boulder Co a couple of years later. Clay was conceived late summer to early fall and was a good pregnancy compared to the prior two. Boulder was absolutely beautiful background to our home and it was peaceful serenity. At 36 weeks, I began to go into tremendous pain, so on that Sunday afternoon we arrived at the hospital worried and scared. He was a big baby, but he had gotten much too still..........never was he that still inside of me. Upon parking our car, he stirred as if everything was okay but we went on to labor and delivery for reassurance. Physical exam showed that my uterus was teetering on complete rupture, so they rushed me into my third emergency c section within a couple of hours. He was a big baby at 36 weeks...........6 lbs 15 oz and 21 inches long. He was absolutely beautiful and looked so healthy. But in a moments turn, he began to distress with his breathing and was rushed to the intensive care room at Boulder Community Hospital. He had a torn lung after breathing his first couple of breaths and he was spiraling downward horribly. A group of doctors and nurses from Denver Childrens Hospital were at the community hospital evaluating a three day old little girl who had been deemed non viable.......she was still alive three days later when Clay was born. Eventually both Anna and Clay were transported with much trepidation to Denver and they lived in the NICU together for three to four months. Anna weighed just a pound of butter plus a pat on top..............she was teenie, and she was strong willed and beautiful. So much time has been placed away in our memories, sometimes placed in an overwhelming returning nightmare that puts you right back in the very midst of such sorrow and fear. We have come such a long, narrow road together. During my time away from posting, I have been fighting tooth and nail for some improvements for Clay's continued life at home with mom and dad. Equipment needs cycle around in fairly predictable time tables and that is much of what has occurred of late. He has been growing wonderfully and remains quite healthy which is a tremendous blessing to all of us. We have been tied up with battles for lack of other expression, with agencies who are dedicated to helping our individuals be in our homes and our communities. The kick in the you know where is.............legalities have overtaken common sense approaches, compassion and empathy provisions for such families as our own. How I wish my family could just go and do and procure any and all things that would make Clay's life the best it could possibly be.......in all ways. But, the reality is we have no adequate resources on our own to assure the dreams and visions we have for Clay and friends just like him. So deserving, so contributing, so loving........these precious disciples are God's greatest teachers. We need to find ways for them to teach the things they hold true in faith and perseverance of their shattered physical characters. Seems like my surgeries will be rapidly approaching scheduling around mid June. Will just have to get there day by day and try really hard to keep my composure, somehow some composure, please? I keep trying to tell myself that once it is all gone and done, that I may just transform into the pretty little, light on her wings butterfly I've always dreamed of being. I don't know where things are leading, but my life is an open book to many I have not yet met, who still ask me to write something. So here is something, rattled but honest with my battled physical self wanting to bust free to be borderline deliriously happy in all things. High Calling.........But I know if I trust then I will eventually experience the dainty, sparkling, glittering flight of a butterfly skipping from one beautiful flower to the next beautiful flower...........just visiting........just taking it all in............forever saved in my heart's deepest chamber of best joys. Much love and hugs to you all...............I treasure you.

The Old Oil Lantern

The Old Oil Lantern

An oil lantern used well in earlier years,

Brings back to mind moments lit with happiness and tears.

Now dimpled and bent from former usage and age,

A calm faint fragrance reminds me of sage.

It looks dull from the buildup of tarnish and dust,

Yet the sticky trace of oil smells sweet, not of heavy musk.

Why is it hidden as if ashamed?

Didn't it once produce a wonderful flame?

It has long been set off to the closet’s darkened side,

Other things taking place where life and distraction now commonly reside.

But rediscovered this day it soon becomes clear,

This offers great treasure as it is cradled once again near.

Upon closer inspection it still has good form,

Even though it looks quite tattered and worn.

Get out a cloth, coat it with paste,

Rub it tenderly, without haste.

What is that shine trying to reappear?

The sparkle is returning, look it is here.

Wow, look at it now, how can we miss,

The beauty it imparts now back in our midst?

Bring out fresh oil, we'll refill it again,

Ignite and share the flame burning from within.

Why did we hide it because it was old,

Why didn't we realize it glowed of gold?

Annette Monts Falls

Words given Friday, February 8, 2008

During moments last night again fighting insomnia, words began to take shape, a visual was forming. God calmed me and spoke in gentle whispers. Annette, Dear Child never give up. Your value remains, even if hidden for a while. You have always had a light deep inside. Troubles caused you to want to hide. The vessel remains. Rediscover it, study it then understand, the light can be rekindled, it need not disappear. The fragrance left with you will always smell bittersweet, very often you feel overwhelmed, used up and worn; often the bitter seems to overtake the welcomed sweet. Yet struggles have provided the best cloth to use for polishing your treasure held within. Passion and fragrance grow and fade. Times seem dark and thick sometimes, covered over by gray fog. Make use of this “paste” wisely, and you will find that your vessel again can begin to shine. Fill your heart, let it freely spill. I live inside you. I feed your heart with special, life giving oil. Good things, bad things, it can take a toil……….just remember I will always be with you, supplying the nourishing light from within your heart with abundant oil. Isn't God wonderful to supply our oil? We can use the struggles as our very best paste. We can turn them into polish that brings forth comfort and light. We are all vessels to His use. Some of us are resilient like metal, some appear fragile and broken like Clay, yet we all are put through fire to become who He intends us to be. Both can be strong and withstand, side by side, made by God’s hands used together to the Glory of His Name. love and hugs, Annette

WORDS on WORDS

As the middle of the night continues I silently converse with self and with God. Wanting to soundly sleep, yet it eludes me. Words, some connected, some out of the blue invade my thoughts and attempts to pray with focus. How do they connect? What do they mean? So until I believe my eyes will rest and my soul quiet these are words I am pondering, questioning, wishing, and praying. Faith, wisdom, patience, understanding, prayer, perseverance, quiet, whisper, listen, share, believe, love, hope, plant, harvest, joy, fulfillment, talents, gifts, belief, doubt, fear, family, friends, discernment, encouragement, forgiveness, repentance, acceptance, denial, anger, joy, temptation, success, shout, witness, waiting, wanting, questioning, sorrow, life, death, easy, hard, weary, rested, respite, nurture, nature, numbness, pray, answers, beauty, evil, good, bad, white, black, gray, shape, covenant, promise, sin, overcome, weak, strong, happy, sad, good, bad, knowledge, friendship, family, Heaven, Earth, Hell, calm, storm, wild, meek, loud, quiet, blame, guilt, memories, desires, needs, provision, health, healing, sickness, worry, concern, virtues, spirit, awareness, enemy, survival, mother, father, brother, sister, friend, enemy, harm, intent, perception, dream, work, heart, soul, knowledge, understanding, character, information, justification, affirmation, service, loyalty, devotion, affection, failure, strive, accomplish, attempt, resolve, deny, trust, healing, passion, tears, joy, apathy, prejudice, heartbreak, jubilance, work, play, earn, owe, care, mercy, grace, resolution, cause, ramification, inclusion, exclusion, young, old, indifferent, offering, admit, bend, break, recover, broken, renewed, confirmation, trial, testing, challenge, reward, goal, win, lose, tie, confusion, strict, stern, convinced, kind, soft, mold, clay, rock, salvation, jealous, rival, contempt, sorrow, fire, rain, sun, moon, stars, infant, regret, learn, teach, show, give, take, gift, talent, fuel, smile, frown, quench, thirst, hunger, feed, unconditional, perspective, lessons, rest, sleep, renew, enlarge, multiply, conquer, divide, unite, freedom, slavery, injustice, shame, disciple, follow, lead, remember, proclaim, achieve, carry, restore............................more than an hour later the focus becomes blurred and I may very well have repeated the depths and the shallows of my mind, yet my eyes will not help me remove or edit words for now. Clay is stirring, Fred and Kleckley are snoring, and Gracie is loving and concerned. She will make biscuits on my pillow if I give in and allow quiet to overcome my restlessness. Perhaps she can purr me a lullaby.

CAPTIVATING

Mid January, already? For many seasons I have been longing and searching. I recently received a wonderful gift during recovery from my unexpected surgery. It was given in hopes that it would help with my healing. I have been praying for healing of many things. Much of it has centered around my little girl's heart and life experience. The gift is a book called Captivating.......unveiling the mystery of a woman's soul. The book was written by a married couple, John and Stasi Eldredge who do Christian counseling and writing. In a brief sentence from the back cover of the book it reads: The desires you had as a little girl and the longings you still feel as a woman-----they are telling you of the life God created you to live. Wow. It is amazing the things it helps me to understand. It is amazing the renewed hope it provides that my heart is exactly the heart God meant for me to share and live fully. I am, I will try to put new perspectives into action. Funny, a recent brief note from my husband said that I had captivated him the night we met and that I still captivate him nearly thirty years later. I had never heard him say that before. I have not felt captivating for a long time. Then I pick up a book I had only taken brief time to peruse, having become overly distracted with day ins and day outs, and it hits me on the head at the perfect timing for me to pick it back up. CAPTIVATING. I had forgotten the title. I am nearing the last chapters. I am learning that God made all women captivating. It was His Divine plan and His will that we see ourselves as very special. He made us this way regardless how confusing it is to deal with the particulars of femininity. We often feel we are marked with all sorts of flaws that rob us of loving ourselves and seeing ourselves as captivating in the eyes ~ lives of others. Captivating to our own eyes. In the eyes and will of God. It is mid January and I will work on becoming more captivating in a still new year with a newer understanding. God made me this way and He would not have me any other way. How I long to become increasingly captivating to His Glory in ways I have not understood.

our snowball fight

for a humorous look at how my siblings imagined Christmas check the link below...... not sure it will work, but we can give it a try.................. http://www.jibjab.com/sendables/view/eXxOVzhecC6uuNUsmHUx91Da

Melancholy Faith???

It's been quite a while. What is up with me? What is up/down in me? The last couple of weeks, maybe a little less, I have just been in a stupid state of mind. I have been very introverted. I have been extremely, did I say EXTREMELY, moody. I have been sad. I have been pensive. I have been deep. Of course, I have acted shallow. As I fight my way back to a more user friendly, updated and improved being, words travel across the confines of my partially functioning brain. The word melancholy sits in my mind. So that's it? Often when I am driving, my conversations with God overcome the stereo and the traffic. (Good thing I am in His hands and that HE is the distraction instead of other things) My faith has become melancholy faith. It is there, but it is in a saddened, depressed refrain. How, Why is it so easy to slip into melancholy faith? I will try to decipher some of it as words form from somewhere inside. I am encouraged that in the last year we learned that Mother Teresa had moments of melancholy. I have not taken the opportunity to learn more, I just remember it being on the news that she had moments of darkness, extreme sadness, disappointments, poor self worth and constant questioning of her life experience. We start a new Bible study tonight at Mt Horeb. We will be doing Beth Moore's A Woman's Heart.......God's Dwelling Place. She asks that we make the following prayer a constant plea, especially over the ten weeks of fellowship. "Lord, open my mind that I might have understanding." I often think this has been a portion of my melancholy faith. I want understanding. I have always pursued it yet it eludes me much of the time. 2007 was an extremely rough year, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I guess it is common that as a year comes to a close we tend to relive and try to evaluate and pray for understanding. That is what I have been doing, basically finding myself in a trance as 2008 has turned the calendar page. Is my faith really still in place? Was it strong enough in 2007 or the years prior? Has it ever really been strong enough? How do we know? Lord, please give me understanding. I suppose I really need to ask Him to open my mind more. Take the cobwebs away. You know, you knock them down, throw them away, but in no time at all, there they come back again. I have had a lot of cobwebs overtaking my emotions this past year. Yet while driving this morning and praying for 'something' GOOD, Lord, please......... I flashed back to a little blonde haired girl on an early Sunday afternoon. I remember the little girl coming home from church, changing clothes and skipping outside while my mother likely was frying incredibly tasty chicken. (Often I would find myself sneaking inside the kitchen to 'snatch' a tiny morsel of fried chicken liver and try not to get caught in the act....) I would take off to my daddy's pond, yards away, yet visible from the kitchen door. I would run across the worn and well used dam into the sunshine speckled from the trees that stood guard nearby. I would marvel at the leaves, especially the star shaped gums, marvel at the shimmer of light across the rippling water, scurry to spy a turtle or a frog and tadpoles in the murky depths. The minnows would always make an appearance; all one had to do was pop a crumb of old bread at them. The little girl would stand there, then sit there, crouch there taking everything in to the greatest details. She would sing the hymns and congregational responses from the church services. Create in me a clean heart, Oh God..........Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise Him all creatures here below, praise Him above you Heavenly hosts, Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost...........Jesus loves the little children................. And then I've remembered and buried inside the darkness that sometimes was there with me. The darkness in many ways that came from childhood molestation that often happened there. That is all that needs saying for now. My praising and loving was taken advantage of. My faith and innocence was intruded upon. The cycle of melancholy beginning at an early age that I would not accept healing until approaching it this past year. It is a work in progress and I ask HIM for understanding. I ask for forgiveness for whatever faults I played in misguided affections. I ask for the returned freedom that the little girl be released to be who she was intended to be at that time.........happy, joyful, naive, and trusting in dreams. To be, and to remember a little girl with the huge praising and pure faith of a child.

What I desire is for that degree of first faith to return to me. I believe that unless we are truly a child, we lose objectivity in the miracle and trust in God's presence. It dulls with age and experiences, gets questioned by the influences of different surroundings and by other people around us. It is the faith that is born into us when He first thought of us; unique to each individual and just maybe it (that inborn, inherited faith of first breath) eludes us until the hour He calls us back to His open arms in the Heavenly realms.

And so the posting has gone long. But, it gives me new hope that in the first days of a brand new year, I can become 'new' again in a lot of ways if I accept and allow it to happen. The prayer I need from you is that I can look forward optimistically instead of lingering with hurt and guilt over things past. That a good harvest is coming after many longstanding trials for our family. That the time has come for sunshine to overtake shadows if I will let it light a new path to finding Annette, with blessings for all the Falls family, present and breathing.