Happy Birthday, Frodo and Bilbo. I love you!
I haven't been around much lately, but I had to come today because it's a birthday!! It's a very special birthday. It's the birthday of two little folks who are very, VERY important in my life.
Frodo has taught me so much. Perseverance, tolerance, courage, and most of all love. His kindness and humility put me to shame at times. I've wished I could be as accepting and gentle as he is when faced with crisis or even just annoyances! I've wished I could accept my tasks in life with just HALF his grace and dignity. Would *I* have volunteered to take that Ring to the Cracks of Doom? I doubt it. I doubt many of us would. But I've had my own rings to carry in the course of my life. And my beloved Frodo has been my inspiration and guide through many of those journeys. I love him. And I admire him. And I'm so very grateful that he walks by my my side on this journey we call life. I can't think of a better companion... though I CAN think of one who is just as good. ;)
And what would I do without Bilbo? Without his guidance and inspiration I would probably still be sitting in Michigan, alone and miserable. He was my teacher. He was the one who's voice was in my ears on the day I got in my car and pointed it Westward, never to look back. He was the one whose song rang in my ears as I dug up all my roots and began a completely new life at a time when most folks are digging in for the long haul. I'm so grateful to this kind, courageous, adventurous Hobbit.
And on this day most of all I want to offer up my love to both of them. I honor their lessons. I honor all the taught me and all they inspired me to achieve. And I wish them the happiest of all possible birthdays. I can't think of two little souls who deserve happiness more than they.
Happy Birthday, my dearest Bilbo and Frodo Baggins... and thank you.
And to celebrate... here are a few reposted mathoms. Enjoy!
Also I would also like to repost three tribbles I wrote to honor this important birthday, one from Sam, one from Frodo, and one from Bilbo. I wrote it to honor my beloved Hobbits on their birthdays, and to remember Sam who was beloved of both of them. Frodo and Bilbo have been as important in my life as most people in it. They have taught me courage, determination, and most of all from dearest Bilbo - a spirit of adventure which led me to Seattle and the happy life I now have here. I hope I carry the spark of their spirits with me always. Thank you, birthday boys, for all you have given to ALL of us... and thank you dear Professor Tolkien for giving us the work, and the characters, who have changed our lives on levels and in ways too deep and profound to be expressed in words.
Sam's Mathom
Sam bent to ease the rose from its bed in the garden. Tenderly he wrapped it in a damp cloth and carried it into Bag End. It would be a gift for Rosie… a pretty flower to brighten her table at breakfast.
As Sam eased the rose into a vase he sighed quietly. “Tis a Mathom,” he murmured. “But no one but their Sam will know or remember.”
He filled the vase with water and sat it in at the center of the table where Rosie was sure to see it when she woke.
Bag End was quiet. It was too early for Rosie or the children to be up and about, and Sam was content to sit on a bench in his garden and smoke his morning pipe as the sun rose over the fields of the Shire.
’Tis your birthday, my love,’ he thought. ‘And Mister Bilbo’s too.’ And as his eyes burned with tears and the familiar ache of longing filled his heart he wondered if, from far across the endless sea, his love thought of him at that moment just as the thought of Frodo filled his mind and heart.
“I send my blessings to you both,” he murmured, wiping his eyes. “Long life, joy and peace. I wish these things for you.” Sam sighed and thoughtfully blew a smoke ring. “And one thing more I wish, my treasure,” he whispered. “I wish that you remember me and not forget your Sam who still loves you so dearly and who longs to be with you.”
This day always brought special pain to Sam’s heart. But he also rejoiced that his love had lived and continued to live. For this thought renewed his hope that one day they would, as Frodo had promised, be once again… together.
Frodo's Mathom
Frodo Baggins walked alone upon a sandy shore. Now and then he stopped to gaze yearningly toward the sea whose waves rolled to his very feet.
He had spent the morning finishing a Mathom, for today was his birthday. The Mathom was a special one, a book of Elven songs that Frodo himself had hand written to give to his Uncle Bilbo. They had been taught to him by one of Galadriel’s minstrels who had assured him that Bilbo had never heard them before. It would be a grand surprise which the old gentle-hobbit would greatly enjoy.
But Frodo hadn’t thought of Bilbo as he carefully inscribed the beautiful words. He had thought of someone else. Someone who loved Elven songs. Someone who would sometimes sing them to him in the night in a voice soft as velvet after they had…
But here Frodo faltered... his throat tight and aching with sadness. ’Will it never end?’ he thought. ’Will I never be able to think of him without feeling this terrible sadness tearing at my heart?’
“My Sam,” he whispered, as he stared with tear-filled eyes across the sea that sundered him from the one he loved most dearly. “Do you think of me?” He wiped his eyes. “Oh, I so want you to be happy, dear heart. And yet… I can’t deny that I also want you to remember me and long for me as I long for you.”
There would be a party tonight for Frodo and Bilbo. Gandalf would be there as would many other friends. But only part of Frodo’s heart would attend this celebration. Most of it rested in the study brown hands of a far-away gardener who had once sung Elven songs to him in the night… in a voice as soft as velvet.
Bilbo's Mathom
Bilbo Baggins didn’t think about age. No one on Tol Eressea thought about age… a fact which Bilbo found immensely gratifying, even on a day as auspicious as his birthday.
“A bit of shading and it’s done,” he muttered, carefully touching his pen to the parchment before him. Then, satisfied at last, he set the pen aside and looked closely at his creation. It was a drawing... a Mathom for his nephew, Frodo, with whom he shared his birthday.
Bilbo had been worried about Frodo lately. Though healed of his wounds and the darker memories that had once tormented him, his nephew still seemed deeply unhappy. Often Bilbo would see him walking alone by the shore, staring out at the waves.
He had asked what was amiss, but Frodo always steered the conversation into safer waters. Nevertheless, Bilbo was certain he knew the reason for Frodo’s distress and hoped that the Mathom would help to lift his nephew’s spirits.
Later, as their celebration began, he handed Frodo a package. “For our birthday, my lad.”
Frodo removed the paper then stared in silence while his eyes slowly filled. “Oh, Uncle….,” he choked in a voice thick with tears.
In his hands he held a framed drawing. The picture was of a sturdy Hobbit dressed in simple workmen’s clothing, his hands clasped shyly behind his back. His plain, honest face seemed to exude both a quiet strength and a gentle, yet powerful, love.
“Sam,” Frodo whispered.
“I thought this might brighten your room,” Bilbo said quietly, “and, perhaps, your heart.”
Weeping, Frodo embraced the old Hobbit. “How can I thank you?”
“By remembering that Sam is also a Ringbearer. He would not want you to grieve, my boy, but to rejoice in the knowledge that one day… you will be together again.”
Frodo has taught me so much. Perseverance, tolerance, courage, and most of all love. His kindness and humility put me to shame at times. I've wished I could be as accepting and gentle as he is when faced with crisis or even just annoyances! I've wished I could accept my tasks in life with just HALF his grace and dignity. Would *I* have volunteered to take that Ring to the Cracks of Doom? I doubt it. I doubt many of us would. But I've had my own rings to carry in the course of my life. And my beloved Frodo has been my inspiration and guide through many of those journeys. I love him. And I admire him. And I'm so very grateful that he walks by my my side on this journey we call life. I can't think of a better companion... though I CAN think of one who is just as good. ;)
And what would I do without Bilbo? Without his guidance and inspiration I would probably still be sitting in Michigan, alone and miserable. He was my teacher. He was the one who's voice was in my ears on the day I got in my car and pointed it Westward, never to look back. He was the one whose song rang in my ears as I dug up all my roots and began a completely new life at a time when most folks are digging in for the long haul. I'm so grateful to this kind, courageous, adventurous Hobbit.
And on this day most of all I want to offer up my love to both of them. I honor their lessons. I honor all the taught me and all they inspired me to achieve. And I wish them the happiest of all possible birthdays. I can't think of two little souls who deserve happiness more than they.
Happy Birthday, my dearest Bilbo and Frodo Baggins... and thank you.
And to celebrate... here are a few reposted mathoms. Enjoy!
Also I would also like to repost three tribbles I wrote to honor this important birthday, one from Sam, one from Frodo, and one from Bilbo. I wrote it to honor my beloved Hobbits on their birthdays, and to remember Sam who was beloved of both of them. Frodo and Bilbo have been as important in my life as most people in it. They have taught me courage, determination, and most of all from dearest Bilbo - a spirit of adventure which led me to Seattle and the happy life I now have here. I hope I carry the spark of their spirits with me always. Thank you, birthday boys, for all you have given to ALL of us... and thank you dear Professor Tolkien for giving us the work, and the characters, who have changed our lives on levels and in ways too deep and profound to be expressed in words.
Sam's Mathom
Sam bent to ease the rose from its bed in the garden. Tenderly he wrapped it in a damp cloth and carried it into Bag End. It would be a gift for Rosie… a pretty flower to brighten her table at breakfast.
As Sam eased the rose into a vase he sighed quietly. “Tis a Mathom,” he murmured. “But no one but their Sam will know or remember.”
He filled the vase with water and sat it in at the center of the table where Rosie was sure to see it when she woke.
Bag End was quiet. It was too early for Rosie or the children to be up and about, and Sam was content to sit on a bench in his garden and smoke his morning pipe as the sun rose over the fields of the Shire.
’Tis your birthday, my love,’ he thought. ‘And Mister Bilbo’s too.’ And as his eyes burned with tears and the familiar ache of longing filled his heart he wondered if, from far across the endless sea, his love thought of him at that moment just as the thought of Frodo filled his mind and heart.
“I send my blessings to you both,” he murmured, wiping his eyes. “Long life, joy and peace. I wish these things for you.” Sam sighed and thoughtfully blew a smoke ring. “And one thing more I wish, my treasure,” he whispered. “I wish that you remember me and not forget your Sam who still loves you so dearly and who longs to be with you.”
This day always brought special pain to Sam’s heart. But he also rejoiced that his love had lived and continued to live. For this thought renewed his hope that one day they would, as Frodo had promised, be once again… together.
Frodo's Mathom
Frodo Baggins walked alone upon a sandy shore. Now and then he stopped to gaze yearningly toward the sea whose waves rolled to his very feet.
He had spent the morning finishing a Mathom, for today was his birthday. The Mathom was a special one, a book of Elven songs that Frodo himself had hand written to give to his Uncle Bilbo. They had been taught to him by one of Galadriel’s minstrels who had assured him that Bilbo had never heard them before. It would be a grand surprise which the old gentle-hobbit would greatly enjoy.
But Frodo hadn’t thought of Bilbo as he carefully inscribed the beautiful words. He had thought of someone else. Someone who loved Elven songs. Someone who would sometimes sing them to him in the night in a voice soft as velvet after they had…
But here Frodo faltered... his throat tight and aching with sadness. ’Will it never end?’ he thought. ’Will I never be able to think of him without feeling this terrible sadness tearing at my heart?’
“My Sam,” he whispered, as he stared with tear-filled eyes across the sea that sundered him from the one he loved most dearly. “Do you think of me?” He wiped his eyes. “Oh, I so want you to be happy, dear heart. And yet… I can’t deny that I also want you to remember me and long for me as I long for you.”
There would be a party tonight for Frodo and Bilbo. Gandalf would be there as would many other friends. But only part of Frodo’s heart would attend this celebration. Most of it rested in the study brown hands of a far-away gardener who had once sung Elven songs to him in the night… in a voice as soft as velvet.
Bilbo's Mathom
Bilbo Baggins didn’t think about age. No one on Tol Eressea thought about age… a fact which Bilbo found immensely gratifying, even on a day as auspicious as his birthday.
“A bit of shading and it’s done,” he muttered, carefully touching his pen to the parchment before him. Then, satisfied at last, he set the pen aside and looked closely at his creation. It was a drawing... a Mathom for his nephew, Frodo, with whom he shared his birthday.
Bilbo had been worried about Frodo lately. Though healed of his wounds and the darker memories that had once tormented him, his nephew still seemed deeply unhappy. Often Bilbo would see him walking alone by the shore, staring out at the waves.
He had asked what was amiss, but Frodo always steered the conversation into safer waters. Nevertheless, Bilbo was certain he knew the reason for Frodo’s distress and hoped that the Mathom would help to lift his nephew’s spirits.
Later, as their celebration began, he handed Frodo a package. “For our birthday, my lad.”
Frodo removed the paper then stared in silence while his eyes slowly filled. “Oh, Uncle….,” he choked in a voice thick with tears.
In his hands he held a framed drawing. The picture was of a sturdy Hobbit dressed in simple workmen’s clothing, his hands clasped shyly behind his back. His plain, honest face seemed to exude both a quiet strength and a gentle, yet powerful, love.
“Sam,” Frodo whispered.
“I thought this might brighten your room,” Bilbo said quietly, “and, perhaps, your heart.”
Weeping, Frodo embraced the old Hobbit. “How can I thank you?”
“By remembering that Sam is also a Ringbearer. He would not want you to grieve, my boy, but to rejoice in the knowledge that one day… you will be together again.”