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For Better or For Worse - volume 4

by Didrick Gerhard Douglas Jacobson

120 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #03-1462; ISBN 1-4120-1093-4; US$17.00, C$19.99, EUR14.00, £10.00

A book of spiritual poetry based on the life experience of a Saskatchewan farmboy and his wanderings through the late 20th Century.

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about the book      about the author      sample excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book Back in December 1984 Upon realizing that I could no longer be gainfully employed I decided to channel my efforts into writing poetry, as long as most of what was written could be meaningful and written with purpose. I write according to my convictions in the hope that through such I may be of some benefit to others. Whether I have achieved this or not, or to what degree I trust will eventually be realized. It is my purpose to convey the right message, therefore much of what I write contains Bible references. I take all of my Scriptural topics from the (K.J.B. or N.K.J.B.) I use a bit of comedy on occasion as well as a few items about incidents, also a few people I have known or know presently who are or who have proven to be very important to me. No one can always be right but if one follows the dictates of one's heart and relies on Spiritual guidance as well, this is what is the most important in my view. Written July 7 - 2003. D.G.D. Jacobson.

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About the Author Didrick Gerhard Douglas Jacobson was born at Shaunavon, Sask. Dec. 14/1930. In August 1931 the family moved to the Glenbush area, approximately thirty miles north of North Battleford, Saskatchewan. Dick was raised on a farm and did this type of work until June 1950, at which time he went to B.C. and obtained work at Taylor's Construction on the Dollarton Highway, between Lynmour and Deep Cove. He worked on a rock crusher there for three years. He then went to Colony Farm near Coquitlam and worked there for a short while. In the fall of 1953, Dick returned to farm life in Saskatchewan. In February 1955, he joined the army. He was stationed at Work Point Barracks in Victoria until November 1955, at which time he was transferred to the R.C.H.A and spent two years stationed at Deilinghoffen, Germany. He returned from Germany in December 1957. Dec. 30, 1957, Dick married Annie Chugg of Grande Prarie, Alberta. He remained in the army until June 1959, received an honorable discharge from the army and returned to Grande Prarie to farm. In the later part of November 1959, Dick and Annie purchased a farm near Elk Point, Alberta. They farmed there until June 1964 At this time Dick becamed employed at Canadian Salt, at Lindbergh, just eleven miles east of Elk Point. The Jacobsons have two children, a girl born May 14 1965 (Kathleen Anne) and a boy born August 28 1966 (Carl Peter). In August of 1967, Dick quit Canadian Salt and the family moved to Surrey B.C. Dick obtained work at a brass foundry, at 1909 Franklin Street in Vancouver. He was laid off that Fall due to the brass foundry being shut down for the winter months. Dick sold Fuller Brush products that winter and following spring the family moved to Vernon B.C. in answer to an ad for a dairy herdsman. They spent just two months at that dairy and then moved to Lumby where Dick obtained employment at a saw mill. Later on that fall of 1968, he went back into dairy work, a milk parlor operation for miles easy of Lumby. The following spring the family moved back to Vernon and Dick found employment north of town, boat building for Sangstercraft. The boat building job was to last just until the Consumer Glass Plant at Lavington started up in September 1969. He worked at Consumer Glass until November, 1974, at which time he quit Consumer Glass to take over a dairy farm. This venture did not turn out very well and so went back to Consumer Glass for a while, then returned to Colony Farm for about a year and a half. He also worked at Dominion Glass for a short time, but was laid off due to cutbacks and union seniority. The family then returned to the Okanagan and Dick worked at various jobs, including some sales work, till June 1978, at which time he started work at White Western Star in Kelowna, but was forced to quit that job due to Uticaria (giant Hives). In September of 1978, the family started their own janitorial service, which they worked at until December of 1984. At this time Dick was forced to quit work and go on C.P.D. (later C.P. and O.A.S.). Most of the author's writing has been done since December 1984. NOT SUCH GOOD OLD DAYS (The Winter of 1947-47) Into the teeth of a North wind Blowing with the force of a gale, A basket rack and a big team of clydesdales We plow through the snow a new trail. It is ten miles we need to be going Ere we arrive at the stack And I'm frozen right through to the marrow God knows I may never get back. Yes, in truth 'twas a fight for survival, Many times I could just have laid down To be frozen to death on that hay rack Or maybe ten miles out there on the ground. Every day all that winter I battled, A mere sixteen years was my age, Through that whole winter I battled such weather, Ten dollars a month was my wage. Although some still work hard for a living And many obstacles I know must be faced, Oft' time so many bad situations Into which one may tend to be placed - But in this day it is a rare situation That oen would need to diligently strive And battle those elements each winter In an effort to merely survive. Now and then tho' I do hear a statement Of those days long ago, oh so good, I think memory gets confused just a little Or some folks just lie more than they should. Although it's true along with our many pleasures There's still a good deal of trouble and strife Yet it's been years since those elements I've battled In a day to day struggle for life. D.G.D. Jacobson. The Jacobson's presently reside in Victoria B.C. Copyright 399259.

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Sample Excerpts

Terrace Place / Cobble Hill B.C.

Our Mobile Home at Terrace Place
Leaves with me many a memory
For 'twas here o'er several years I penned
Much of my Prose and Poetry.

Oh I commenced in Eighty Four
Often in the middle of the night,
Before we moved to Cobble Hill,
Yes, back then I'd sometimes rise to write.

But 'twas in the Spring of Eighty Nine
When we moved out to Cobble Hill,
My writing then did much increase
And since that time I several books did fill.

Thus when I consider where I've been
It always seems to be the case,
My thoughts go back to Cobble Hill
And our Mobile Home at Terrace Place.

Just Passing Through

Of illness I have certain fears,
Like most I'm sensitive to pain,
But I have no great fear of death
For I believe there's much to gain.
We've all been taught and I believe,
While here we just are passing through,
As pilgrims here we journey on,
Each one is thus destined to do.
Tho' none of us are all that good,
Not near so good as we deserve
The future held in store for us,
If from our faith we do not swerve.
No, not one is nearly good enough,
Not one shall earn that life to come,
Not one could ever pay the price,
It would require far to great a sum.

I've watched some people as they left
For Realms Beyond, to us unknown,
A few had fears they'd have to reap
Results of many bad things sown,
But some these fears did not abide,
These were the ones who did believe,
Who gloried in the life to come
As they this life on earth did leave.
So death ought then hold little fear,
I accept that it shall come to me,
But as this mortal life I leave
I shall gain immortality.
Thus as this road of life we trod,
With trials more than just a few,
Take courage in the faith and know
That we are all just passing through.

Life is But a Day

I recall when I walked in the morning
With the fragrance and the scents of the dew,
The imagination of childhood days
Yes, the world was a place bright and new.
Everything held its own special meaning,
Each flower and each bird that sing,
These were the days of my morning,
Could as well be considered as spring.
Then as the time drifted onward,
I was nearing the noon of my day,
My age was now fifteen to forty,
Without a doubt the best part of my day,
It could as well been considered as summer,
The time to produce and expand,
'Twas a mixture of hard work and romance,
With another to share hand in hand.

I'm now nearing the years of my evening
And altho' I know not what's in store,
As I reminisce my life's been worth living,
I just could not have asked for much more.
I feel throughout I've been directed
By a power far superior to mine,
There's little doubt in my mind of my guidance
By my Heavenly Father Divine.
And still falls into place as I journey
And as autumn or evening draws near
He assures me all is as it should be
And that I've really nothing to fear.
Yes, the evening shall come, it will vanish
And as the night or the winter does come
I'll arrive at my walk through the valley,
He'll bring peace as to death I succumb,

But this shall only be the beginning
For the morning shall dawn bright and fair,
And the day that I knew in my lifetime
With this new day could never compare.
For there shall be no death or no sorrow
And time then shall be nevermore.
All the friends and relations I've known o'er the years
I shall meet at that Beautiful Shore.
And my Lord shall forever be present
In that place where there'll never be night.
A reward beyond what I'm deserving
But do anticipate with delight.
Lord, I pray for the strength and the wisdom
To live my life as I ought day by day,
That some others due to such may be present
In that land that is fairer than day.

Our Life Span Is So Short

While walking through the Mall one afternoon
I saw a man with faltering step so slow,
As to his age I'd not attempt to guess
And of his past I really could not know.
He would doubtless have a story he could tell
Relating to incidents 'way back in the past,
Of battles which he may have won or lost
And some fond memories which for him did last.

Well life is such and so 'twould seem to me,
The game be played for what it may be worth,
In just a fleeting moment life is gone,
Our life span is so short upon this earth.
So many may be cut down in their prime,
So many never reach that golden age,
In many instances their life is so short
Their history could be written on one page.

And even those who live three score and ten
Seems but a moment fleeting by in time,
Therefore if this were all we mortals had
'Twould be hard to see the reason or the rhyme.
I think one lives life so one may prepare,
Must meet one's own commitments here on earth,
One's destiny in life must be fulfilled
In one short span for what it may be worth.

So therefore one must always bear in mind
"It matters very much the life we lead"
And how we feel toward our fellow-man
If for that future life we would succeed.
We would all agree that life's extremely short
And that it could be very miserable indeed,
If all we humans had, "No other goal,"
To acquire just in this life what one may need.

While walking through the Mall one afternoon
I saw a man with faltering step so slow,
In contemplation deep considered I,
The shortness of our life span ere we go.
So poor or rich, what e'er the case may be,
Makes little difference it would seem to me,
But rather what we've done while we've been here
In preparation for eternity.

Scenes From the Past

There's a broken down wagon and a sagging roofed barn,
There's a grain bin in need of repair,
A lone tree with the leaves long since blown away
And there's a chill from the frost in the air.

This is only a picture that hangs on my wall
But a tale from the past it does tell
Of those cold prairie winters in those days long ago,
With the hardships that many knew well.

But there were as well good times that I can recall,
Many things to remember now gone.
So many changes since then, some for better, some worse,
Through my lifetime journeying on.

That old broken down wagon was back then strong and new,
And the barn then stood sturdy and straight.
The grain bin was added that fall long ago
In the year of Nineteen-Forty-Eight.

Yes, these scenes from the past I oft' love to recall
Though our lives are much easier now,
Yet as I reminisce of those days long ago
I just feel rather lonely somehow.

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Catalogue Information

National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Jacobson, Didrick Gerhand Douglas, 1930-
For better or for worse / Didrick Gerhard Douglas Jacobson.
"Volume 4".
Poems.
Includes bibliographical references.
ISBN 1-4120-1093-4

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