Run Fast Little One

 I have always cherished the beauty of the Easter season.  As a child Easter meant going to the garage sales with my Godmother to get a frilly dress, girdle, and “clicky” shoes.  Not to mention getting my hair pressed to set the curls in the right places.  I can still smell the rolls rising, deviled eggs, as the Ham baked for our after-church Easter Meal. 

In church, Easter meant bright colors came out of their hiding to usher us into a new season.  The hope of resurrection filled the world with a cacophony of risen life in both flora and fauna.  Easter is the time of resilience and re-beginnings. 

"There is Jesus"

Yet, before we get to that time of celebration there are the deep, dry, and cold parts of winter.  I am not comfortable in the dark, and this year Dark invited strange high winds that seem to stay on the Panhandle stage for encore after encore.  The trifecta of cold, dark, and windy means there aren’t many chances of running or biking outside, but I still didn’t welcome the winter blues this year as I have in the past yearning to be outside.  I am better when I can be outside. "When It Don't Come Easy" I don't think I am the only one struggling to not pick up the pent-up yuck of winter.

This year, I am coveting the starkness of Lent, and the simplicity of giving away what weighs us down.  As much as I relish the chance to love an unadorned church, I revel in the beauty rolling into the fully dressed church on a tide of colors. As simple as the church is when She is in Lent, She is just as surprisingly complex during Easter Tide. That contrast is part of my own emotional, physical, and spiritual rotation.  

 The more I am coming out of my Grief fog, the more I am realizing what is better for my whole self. That means I am finding time to be outside or get into the pool for laps- even if it is in short adventures. 

Easter and all of the beauty that comes along with Spring feels like I’ve been charged with glorious enlivened growth.  We’ve even had several little teasing spots of rain and even the dirt is wearing a “Spring come here to me” smell. Last week, 3/22, I had a doctor's checkup and afterward, I gleefully took myself to Palo Duro Canyon.  I had three hours before I had to return to school; I took a half day.  What beauty did I find?  No longer is the Canyon wearing the almost simple pallet of winter yellows and grays.   She is wearing lots of copper red and infantile greens as she gears up for the seasonal change.    

I saw all these beautiful friends and sang my way down the trail.  Then I saw the most amazing gift: I stopped to look at the stream and saw an adolescent Coyote across the stream.  I didn’t get a picture because she was looking right at me and I began to cry…  She stood completely still and then nodded her head as she sniffed in my direction. She was shedding her winter fur, as am I. Then I realized that her muzzle had red specks in her fur. 

 Libby was always the Wolf, the Coyote, the Fox: all the Canid.  I just kept singing “Hi Libby- Hi Libby- Hi Libby.”  I uh may have tried to follow that coyote for quite a while, and I could not keep up.  I couldn’t keep up with her.  

I choose to believe that Liberty needed to see me as much as I needed to feel her presence. I choose to believe that Liberty was letting me know that she is eating after so long struggling to eat.  I choose to believe that she is growing in her new realm by running fast as did so long ago.  I cannot say that I don’t miss her physical presence every day, but I am grateful that she is free of physical problems.  She has shed her body, just as the coyote is shedding blood-stained fur.  Every Easter we can clean out the negative and water the positive; we too can shed what doesn’t serve us.  

"Hold My Hand"

As everything is dynamically changing, and growing in this Eastertide I pray that we can be refreshed in this season.  I know that I am surrounded by love and support and for that I am grateful.  Please continue to say her name and keep her in our hearts.  Pray for her other family members and of course, for her amazing sister and Derrick.  We are all running in our own ways.  We are all learning and growing in our own ways.  As stark as parts of winter have been, Spring can be a fantastic race of growing and shifting into a better and stronger version of ourselves.  Run fast little one- I will always be cheering you on.

 

Thanksgiving Letter to Liberty and More -2022

Thanksgiving Letter to Liberty and More- 2022

This is a mottled grab bag of love, grief, and gratitude. 

It has been 295 days since your homegoing.  Some Days it doesn’t seem real, and other days I wear your passing like a shield. Much has changed, much of it is good.  I live in Amarillo in a tiny apartment with only Monkey (Frankie) as my companion.  I find that I have much to do and yet there is nothing to do except to get lost thinking about you.  Taking care of you was a blessing that definitely kept me busy.  In hindsight, I realize that the most painful part of letting you go is what I am most grateful for today.  I rarely wake up on a pill schedule any more, though I still reach out for you in the middle of the night.  Loving you through all of your medical needs is one of the greatest beautiful and hard things I’ve ever been a part of.  I am grateful for the long hard road we tripped down. 

I wanted to write to you during this time of thankfulness. 

 

 I am grateful for the chance to be your Mom especially since I wasn’t supposed to be able to conceive a second time.  I am grateful that you made Mariah a Big Sister. You must be so very proud of the woman your sister has become.  She is a truly amazing person who is kind, strong, determined, hard working, and hard loving.  She is the other half of my heart.  I am grateful for the times that you teased then loved your sister and your cousins.  I am especially grateful for the time you put the tarantula in your sister’s bed. 

I am grateful that you are exactly who you are throughout your life.  I am grateful for your laugh- even when it changed. I am grateful for how you love Rachael and your grandparents.  I am grateful how you love all animals and are going to be our very own  Steve Irvin. I am grateful for your love of being outdoors. I am grateful for the movies you will watch with us over and over.  

I am grateful for your memory and love of music. I am grateful for your love of art.  I am grateful for your love of hawks and wolves. I am grateful for the way you love your aunts and uncles. I am grateful for the community you created who love and support you.  I am grateful for how you cried and laughed when you need to.  I am grateful that I was able to hold you most nights in those last months. I am grateful I got to hold you when you began sundowning. I am grateful for the hospice caregivers we brought into our lives.    I am grateful for the time you were with us as a healthy Liberty, and after your body and brain changed. I am grateful that I have a memory of all of this and so much more.  I am grateful for my friends and family who let me talk about you, and those who don’t make me talk about you.

I know I was and am  blessed in so many ways for loving you.  Thank you.  Libby, please keep coming to visit us.  Please.  

https://youtu.be/KiypaURysz4 “Holy Now”

In case you are wanting to visit with Liberty, or want to sit in peace she now has a tree planted.  It is perfectly  planted in the south side of St. Andrew’s church grounds.  I am deeply grateful for David Stidham who heard what I needed and took care of getting it planted. It is a hybrid of four different kinds of apples that will pollinate itself.  Praying that this tree flourishes.  I need it to, so very much.  

 

The time around Thanksgiving has always been my favorite part of the year. In the last few years it has been a bit of a struggle.  Even with multiple stumbling blocks we’ve always been able to come together, or mostly together and celebrate.  In a year of firsts, my Thanksgiving will be in Amarillo.  It will be hard, different, but it will also be blessed.  I know some of the changes I have made have been hurtful, and for that I am sorry. As so much has changed, I needed to change as well.  I am grateful for my loving and accepting community.    

Now about the food…

I am going to share some of our favorite things.

Today would have been the 106th birthday of your GG (AKA Great Grandma/ Geneva Farley Bumpus).  The month of November belongs to her as all the fun we shared creating the Thanksgiving meal together.  She reminded me often to enjoy my time with both you and Mariah as our time will be short- much too short.  One of our favorite times in her kitchen was making the yeast rolls. You and Mariah would dip the hot buns into the mashed potatoes and gravy. We all loved those rolls. Sadly, I was not given that recipe, but I believe I have one that is close.  This first Thanksgiving I will be having the bread. Here is the closest recipe I could find.   Grandma's Old Fashioned Yeast Rolls

My godmothers, Aunt Gina and Aunt Verna, my fraternal Great Aunts loved to make different twists on family dishes. Most important was finding and crafting different recipes to share with their community of church ladies.  I was lucky to share weekends between my Grandmother and my Great Aunts, and sometimes with my cousin Tammy. One interesting variety I remember was being in the kitchen and perfecting a cranberry chutney recipe.  It was an interesting departure from the canned cranberry that I enjoyed.  This recipe is similar to what I remember.  (They may have made this for their Christmas meal; I can’t remember for sure.) This chutney is so good and you mix and match many of the spices to meet your tastes.  

Cranberry Chutney

I adore sweet potatoes.  I like them baked.  I like them fried.  I like them in the can or straight  out of the garden.  I will put them in salads, soups or as lovely sides.  I LOVE THEM!  Oh the happiness when I found this wonderful recipe for a casserole.  You can alter how much of the pineapple you add in, or you skip it all together.  It can also be altered into a souffle.   You can adjust to make it less sweet for your needs.  I love the crunchy and savory addition of the chopped pecans.  Almonds work as well.  I just wanted to share some of my favorite things along with the memories.  

Sweet Potato Casserole 

Libby loves Pecan Pie.   Loves it.   That is one of the pies that she would let me have the crust and she would ravage the innards. Both she and my Grandmother loved this pie even though it is always terribly sweet. They loved it.  There are many places that offer a great Pecan Pie, but I like the ones I have found at Sam’s.  They have a good bakery and offer huge pies.  Between holidays, I would buy her the little individual pecan pies and it never took her long to eat it all!  This last few years when Libby didn’t chew or swallow very well, I’d throw a piece in the Ninja and away she’d go. Especially when I was trying to keep weight on her.  Sweet stuff for my sweet little stuff.  

Pecan Pie

May you eat your fill and love more.  

Be blessed my friends. Until later, know that you are loved.