Fly High

Fly High. Sing Loud. Be Brave.  

Tomorrow, 30th of January, it will be the 2nd anniversary of Liberty’s Home Going.  I don’t have a lot to share.  It’s been a Achielean feet in this last two year.  Some days Liberty’s passing was many years ago, otherdays, the loss of her leaving is screaming in my heart. I can let pity come by, but it cannot stay.  Then there are the gift of feeling her dancing, and hear her singing.   She is with us in her own ways.  

I am grateful for a great therapist who has guided me to unravel my grief.  Having her on my journey has been a gift. 

I wanted to thank of you who have surrounded me with kindness and support during this month and all days.  I know I have a pack of people who also love Liberty: I share my love with you.  

The Wisdom of Wolves

Found this book and had to share it with all. 

https://www.livingwithwolves.org/about/about-the-founders/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ygmhbi6PtdM

“Working Wild U”

https://www.elli-radinger.de/the-wisdom-of-wolves/

Libby’s Music to Share

https://music.apple.com/us/playlist/libbys-celebration/pl.u-11zBXDbfN4LPANq

Thank you Rachael Collins for your beautiful words for our sweet girl.  I will always be grateful to you. 

Obituary

Liberty Alaine Farley Jennings, 25, of Happy, passed away on January 30, 2022. She was surrounded in love by her family as she broke from her Earthly bonds into the arms of God. 

Born on January 9, 1997 in Ruidoso, New Mexico, Liberty was welcomed into this world by her mom and older sister, Mariah, who was their birthing coach. Mariah never stopped being Liberty’s coach, best friend, and protector. They had a fierce bond that only grew stronger as the years passed by, a duo seldom separated. Shortly after birth, Liberty, her mom, and Mariah moved back to Amarillo, Texas so they could be closer to their Grandmother Geva and Yaya Helen. 

Always an active and inquisitive child, Liberty loved all things outdoors. She spent countless hours trying to save spiders, baby bunnies, snakes, and any stray animal she could find. She earned the nickname “eagle eye” for being able to spot what others couldn’t when outdoors. She wanted to be the Crocodile Hunter when she grew up as Steve Irwin was her hero. For more than a year she wore a Steve Irwin Crocodile Hunter outfit daily and ran around yelling “Crikey” at everything she found outside. Around the same time she also wanted to be a paleontologist because she loved dinosaurs or a rock star. In her best version of adulthood, she really wanted to figure out how to be all three. In 2005, she began helping her moms at Elkins Ranch in Palo Duro Canyon as a Lil’ Ranch Hand, and for the next four summers, she helped to welcome guests for the jeep tours or serve chuckwagon breakfasts. She loved Palo Duro Canyon and camping trips. Often she could be found atop a rock staring into the distance. When asked what she was doing, her reply was simple: “meditating.” Her other love was the mountains of New Mexico. Nothing brought a smile to her face quite like seeing “her” mountains. When at home, she could be found in the trees that lined the property of her house in Happy. She loved and adored her cousins Jasmin and Xavier and they spent so much time exploring the lots around the house. Even once Liberty became too sick to play, one of her greatest joys was being with her cousins who could always make her laugh and smile. 

Sing Loud. Music was an important part of Liberty’s world. She and her mom had a playlist for anything and everything. Even in her sickest moments, a favorite song would play and Liberty’s eyes would light up. Even once she lost her voice, she would still sing the words to her songs with perfect pitch. She always had a song in her heart and loved to dance. Liberty’s go to dance was lovingly dubbed “Libby’s Happy Feet” dance by her family. In 2003, she started singing in church and in 2005 she played Caiaphas in her church’s ASL rendition of Jesus Christ Superstar. In junior high, Liberty proudly played the trumpet for the Happy High School Band. Around this time, she could also be found with a book in her hands. Her favorites were the Harry Potter series, Lord of the Rings, and any of Janet Evanovich’s books. She loved that series so much that she began contemplating becoming a bounty hunter. 

Fly High. In 2010 in the middle of her 8th grade school year, Liberty was diagnosed with Lyme Disease. Even after her diagnosis and her body’s slow decline, Liberty was the life of every room she was in. Her smile and bright and beautiful blue eyes drew everyone to her. Her spirit was infectious. She attended and graduated from Caprock High School. While there, she was an active member of the Key Club, the National Honor Society, and the choir. She became very involved in the art program and painted and painted and painted some more. As a senior, she was elected prom queen by her fellow students and later was met to a standing applause on graduation night when she walked across the stage. Upon graduating from high school, Liberty went to Amarillo College to continu painting in the art program for as long as her hands let her hold a paintbrush. For her 21st birthday, her parents held an art show at a local art gallery. Liberty and her art work were center stage. She was positively radiant as friends and family came to admire her art. 

Be Brave. Liberty was and continues to be an inspiration to everyone who met her. One could not see her smile and not be changed for the better. She loved everyone intensely and completely and tended to collect people who were drawn to her beautiful spirit. She bravely faced her illness and when given insurmountable odds told others that she didn’t need to “be brave” because she’s “got this,” but she wanted others to be brave. Liberty was a bright light and the embodiment of pure love. Her memory will continue to inspire others to be brave. 

Fly High. Sing Loud. Be Brave.

Liberty was preceded in death by her great grandmother Geneva Farley Bumpus; her Papa, Terry Collins; her Grandma Yaya, Helen Jennings; her grandfather, Bert Jennings, and great grandmother, Bernice Jennings.  She is survived by her mothers Ileana Jennings and Rachael Collins of Happy Texas; her sister and brother-in-law Mariah and Derrick Neusch of Amarillo, Texas; her Grandmother, Linda Collins, of Happy Texas, her Aunt and Uncle Jennifer and Caebhin Howell of Amarillo, Texas, her beloved cousins, Jasmin and Xavier Howell of Amarillo, Texas, her Uncle and Aunt, David and Mirtha Beveridge, of Garland, Texas, and so many dear friends and family members whose lives she has touched. 

Coming Clean

 Coming Clean- 1/15/24

Happy New Year! Hoping everyone has had great holiday. For many, this is the time to make promises, resolutions, and goals.  Something like eating less, or better.  Workout more.  Read more books.  Reach out to more friends.  Even goals of cleaning out the garage.  Whatever your flavor of resolutions I hope they are going well.  We are all trying to be the best human we can be.  I’m certainly giving it a go.  

This blog update is not easy for me.  I have prayed for several weeks about sharing this part of my life.  Deep breath- Here we go.   

I am sharing the timeline for perspective.  

In May of 2021, Liberty and I were in a wreck when dropping her off at her aunt’s house.  The Libby Van was totalled, but gratefully Liberty was not hurt.  Within another week, Liberty had a small seizure and she bit her finger down to the bone.  These events are not huge except I felt a shift in my heart.  I knew that I could not voice this to anyone until several months went by. I knew that Libby’s time with us was short. 

I started drinking heavily during that month. For me, it was heavy drinking every night after Liberty was in bed.  Before this time, I was a social drinker. No problem.  But then…

  By July Liberty was starting Palliative care.  My mother passed away in that same month. Libby was in Hospice care by October 2021. We were blessed with a wonderful group of amazing people throughout Liberty’s care, but these Palliative and Hospice care people were truly a Godsend.   Liberty passed away with all of her loved ones seeing recently.  She is so loved.  

Many changes happened after Liberty passed away: several of them were orchestrated by me.  I apologize for all I hurt during that next year.  

After moving to Amarillo, I kept drinking, never so much that I couldn’t be the teacher I could be. Just enough to be “numb and dumb” and to guarantee sleep. Now I know that alcohol helps me fall asleep, but not stay asleep.  

This is my truth. On September 27th, I had a small wreck leaving downtown.  No one was hurt, thankfully.  Within that week I also got my heart hurt.  I thought I needed to be even more “numb and dumb”.   On October 7th, I drank too much and had a terrible fall in my apartment.  I was alone. (Well Monkey my cat was there).  Luckily, I wasn’t hurt very badly. Did get some dental damage that cost more than I wanted or needed to pay for my stupidity. 

This incident was a bell ringer for me.  How could I be so stupid?   How could I risk hurting myself?  All I could think was how selfish I was being.  I should never put myself in a position that would risk me not being HERE for Mariah, my family, my friends, and all my students.  

“This is How I fight my Battles”

https://youtu.be/NoAqymNcBTk?si=nGxVA5xFTqppzve5

I have not had any alcohol since that day.  It has been 100 days since I have had any.  At first, it was a little challenging, as all my emotions were overflowing, but I didn’t miss the drinking.  Emotions of the past two years began spilling out.  Oh, my friends, you know it’s been a helluva ride, but with grace. I am still standing.   

I am not going to apologize if this is too much of my truth.  Grief is a mighty sword that can lead us to healing.  Grief can also drown your emotions and move into your heart like a bad smell.  For these last 100 days, I am inviting my truth to carry me to healing.  Whatever your goals are, Please be kind to yourself.  

So, this is a chapter of my story. “The Story”

https://youtu.be/o8pQLtHTPaI?si=V3dg_x0C64jC7tpM

Going forward, I am following the mantra from Libby’s Home Going: Fly High. Sing Loud. Be Brave.  I have come clean.  Thank you to all.  

Advent

       Advent for Us    12/7/23

We are rolling towards winter in a three wheeled cart. In Amarillo, we are warm, cold, blustery, dry, and somewhat wet in alternating moments.  There seems to be so much to be done every day.  In education, we have been in the chaotic time of re-testing students who were not successful on their previous tries on these tests.  These re-tests have joined my world as much as the season of Advent has. 

https://music.apple.com/us/album/light-of-the-world/1560658894?i=1560658895

Much like the realm of secondary education, this is a time of testing in a multiple of ways.  We are testing the students, and we are testing our faith.  We are testing our teachers, and we are testing our patience.  We are testing our curriculum, and we are testing our ability to prepare for new growth.  Advent for me is a call to grow my testimony of what comes next.  Advent is a chance to join the respite of waiting for the blessings to come.  Advent calls us to be busy in spirit and physically resting.  Advent is a chance to breathe deeply collectively as we extol the opportunity to embrace the newness gifted to us all.  This time of year is my chance to breathe new opportunities and growth. I know some tests are out of our hands, but this one is within our reach.  We need to believe that above all, we are each loved infinitely just as the tests in education seem to keep coming: infinitely. 

 And why not? Next month I will celebrate Liberty’s Earthly birthday on January 9th.  Then on January 30th, I will remember Liberty’s beautiful home-going and the imprint she left in our lives.    Because of our waiting and faith, we get the chance to believe that immense love will come to us.  We are born to be loved.  

Blessed  Advent to all.  

Great Podcast about Advent. https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/stuff-you-missed-in-history-class/id283605519?i=1000637435248

Grateful for our opportunity in Adult Formation and Susan WIllis at St. Andrew’s and their lovely information and history on Advent.  We learned about the Advent wreath, the candles, and the Jesse Tree. Thank you all for the opportunity to learn more about this season. 

Liberty’s Alter

Happy November,

Here’s to a  beautiful love and shared grief of the Day of the Dead/ Dia de Los Muertes.   In so many ways we can tend to hold our grief  in locked areas in our heart instead of wearing it as a badge of beloved testimony of our love.   The idea of creating a heart safe place in your home, church, workplace, and digitally is a gift. In 2023 we have many way to do this remembrance.  For me, the gathering and putting  together is a grace-filled mission for my own testimony. Thank you visiting her ofrenda and loving us.    We all need to carry on and on with our love. 

 https://music.apple.com/us/album/on-and-on/532314017?i=532314022

This one is in my classroom.  

The following are at St. Andrew’s.

Such a lovely opportunity.  Many people on our church family worked together to make this a momentous time to share our love, grief , and stories of our loved ones. There are grace filled with hope and love.   May we all reach out to our  beloveds and carry on the conversation and the love.  Love doesn't leave with their body, it stays with us.   May we all know we are loved on both sides of the veil.  

https://music.apple.com/us/album/that-wasnt-me/523220959?i=523220967

I have to admit that from October 3- November 3 have been  days with a pained heart.   I am trying to move on and let myself heal, but it’s not easy.   Also, it’s important to not move too fast.   I have also begun the work to approved for a mortgage so that I can have a home of my own.  

As I continue to grieve in a myriad of ways, I am truly loved and supported by church and school families.   I am so blessed.   

Beginning Again 10/25/23

The Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd  1996

This is a memoir of a spiritual treatise of learning, focussing on our inner need to be our own.  Monk encourages us to look into our spirit to reassure, question, and heal from the world as a whole, our systemic patriarchy, and our own lack of belief in our own strong, capable selves. This is a text that I need to read every year- in gratitude like a checkup with my heart.

https://youtu.be/_rvexfQLDsM?si=7-W_OlLydpfWHywa

Joy Oladokun

"someone that i used to be"

 Part of my love for this book comes from my own fledgling attempts to embrace who I am instead of what others expected me to be.  This book came out while I was pregnant and living in Capitan, New Mexico.  Mariah and I were living in the New Mexico mountains which became our duala.  Liberty was the baby that I wasn’t supposed to be able to have.  I was surrounded by several “Mountain Mothers” who welcomed Mariah and me into their loving acceptance before, during, and after the delivery.  That definitely tracks when thinking about the life Liberty lived.  Betty E Shrecengost was a stalwart part of Lincoln, New Mexico.  She invited me into her family and taught me many things about living alongside the mountains.  Including how to ride a horse while big and pregnant.  The women of the Salazar clam ran the museum for decades and they enveloped me with their wisdom and acceptance.  They also taught me how to cook like New Mexico. Grandmother Salazar talked about this book together after Liberty was born, including that as mothers we needed to accept ourselves, grow, and heal.    

  

”We must wake up, journey, name, challenge, shed, reclaim, ground, and heal. “ 

”I recall that whenever I struggled, doubted, wondered if I could pull my thread into this fabric, someone or something would always appear--a friend, a stranger, a figure in a dream, a book, an experience, some shining thing in nature--and remind me that this thing I was undertaking was holy to the core. I would learn again that it is all right for women to follow the wisdom in their souls, to name their truth, to embrace the Sacred Feminine, and that there is undreamed voice, strength, and power in us. And that is what I have come to tell you. I have come over the wise distances to tell you: She is in us.”

I needed this book at this time again to find my way back to who I am and can be.  In some ways, I feel lost, and discarded, and in others: I am awakening.  It is okay to be both.  “You can create a path of your own by looking within yourself and listening to your soul, cultivating your own ways of experiencing the sacred and then practicing it. Practicing until you make it a song that sings you.”  Now as we move into the holidays, please share your love with those around you.  Have a conversation, share a meal, and maybe a genuine hug.  All of us are on a journey, our fuel is the love we have for ourselves, and the love we choose to share with others.   

https://youtu.be/qXuPyE7CKZQ?si=Wk5dyFD0o57rl2W4

Patty Griffin 

"When It Don't Come Easy"

More of my favorite quotes from Sue Monk Kidd: 

“If someone should ask me, 'What does the soul do?' I would say, It does two things. It loves. And it creates. Those are its primary acts.”

“The ultimate authority of my life is not the Bible; it is not confined between the covers of a book. It is not something written by men and frozen in time. It is not from a source outside myself. My ultimate authority is the divine voice in my own soul. Period.”

“The symbol of Goddess gives us permission. She teaches us to embrace the holiness of every natural, ordinary, sensual dying moment. Patriarchy may try to negate body and flee earth with its constant heartbeat of death, but the Goddess forces us back to embrace them, to take our human life in our arms and clasp it for the divine life it is - the nice, sanitary, harmonious moment as well as the painful, dark, splintered ones.If such a consciousness truly is set loose in the world, nothing will be the same. It will free us to be in a sacred body, on a sacred planet, in sacred communion with all of it. It will infect the universe with holiness. We will discover the Divine deep within the earth and the cells of our bodies, and we will lover her there with all our hearts and all our souls and all our minds.”

“The truth is, in order to heal we need to tell our stories and have them witnessed...The story itself becomes a vessel that holds us up, sustains us, and allows us to order our jumbled experiences into meaning. As I told my stories of fear, awakening, struggle, and transformation and had them received, heard, and validated by other women, I found healing.I also needed to hear other women's stories in order to see and embrace my own. Sometimes another woman's story becomes a mirror that shows me a self I haven't seen before. When I listen to her tell it, her experience quickens and clarifies my own. Her questions rouse mine. Her conflicts illuminate my conflicts. Her resolutions call forth my hope. Her strengths summon my strengths. All of this can happen even when our stories and our lives are very different.”

Lost Birds

 Haven't written since May.  In the blink of an eye since school got out, then it was Summer School, and now we are already into the 2nd Six Weeks.  Time is slippery: going oh so fast while simultaneously crawling by.  It has been 604 days since Liberty moved on.  

The oddest thing happened two weekends ago.  I came home from Saturday School and saw that the floors on the way up the third floor were gross.   The floor was covered in powdery white ickiness all the way up to my apartment.  There was a slight smell as well.  But the worst was the sounds: like something banding against the walls and something picking at the walls and ceilings.  Finally found the culprit: a juvenile Grackle. This little guy was lost in our stairwell and couldn't get out through the skylights.  I tried to help this confused little bird out of the building using tapping the broom on the rails.   This bird was flapping and flapping to try to get out.  Over and over I tried.  After thirty minutes I had to get back to Caprock, so I left for about an hour and a half.  

That bird was still struggling when I made it back home.  This time I put some water out and changed my clothes then back at it.  

That bird was yelling at me for sure.   How none of my eight neighbors didn't come out.  The bedraggled birdy was hurting and not moving very well.  He was more chaotic, and scared.  After more practice and over an hour longer, with my Swiffer and my dustpan I started saying out loud, "You are not going to die today." over and over.  At some point I was talking to Libby , because I needed her to help me get that bird out safely.  I never touched that bird with any of my cleaning instruments until he finally followed the little noises I was making, and I pushed him out of the door.  https://music.apple.com/us/album/ill-fly-away/269440847?i=269441201

The little guy flew away immediately.   I checked over and over throughout that afternoon and evening and I never saw him again.  I heard it squawking across the courtyard at my apartment.  

Years ago, when the girls were under ten Libby brought in a little bird that had fallen out of the nest. She had brought all sorts of critters which Libby would place somewhere on her sister's bed.  Whatever Libby was trying to rescue usually got left of something of Mariah's stuff.   Oh, the squeaking and squawking by all!

Trying to think through this earlier memory and the great bird experience, I found this article. "Many cultures believe birds bring important messages, so a bird flying into your home may be trying to tell you something. Unfortunately, it won’t necessarily be obvious whether the news is good or bad – we’ll leave that up to your interpretation.

If a bird flies into your house and appears restless, but doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to get out, it could mean the presence of a spirit. Again, this isn’t always a bad thing, as the spirit might not be of the evil kind, but may simply be trying to guide you through a difficult time in your life."  

Broken Horses

Libby's little birdie did not make it very long.  They rarely do.  I hope that my little bird lived on telling the story of the crazy apartment lady promising and arguing that it WILL live.  

But my little birdie, my little liberty did not make it through her illness, but she damn sure fought against every single step as her illness fought back.  I believe we have had ongoing interactions since Liberty's body quit.  I do.  I am grateful for every feather I see.  She is in every sunrise and sunset.  She dances to her own weird music coming clearly through the wind.  Libby made us warriors in everyday life.  Her stubbornness shines through Marigh and her perseverance.  All of this and the date is 605 since she left this life.   Here's to many more.  

Time is slippery and I am blessed by every memory that comes through me. 

Counting On

In 2015, Liberty was a graduating senior at Caprock.  That was eight years ago. On Senior Day, we enjoyed the Pirate ship, the Hymilayan, and a few more rides that were Liberty accessible.   We tried to ensure that Libby got a genuine experience in her Senior year.  It was harrowing getting her into and out of the rides, but her smiles were worth it.  

Her senior year was wonderful for her. And like many other parents, it was harder on all of Libby's family. There was a fear of the unknown, excitement, and trepidation. She wanted to graduate with her friends- so she did. I didn't have a plan for where Libby would go while I was at school. We didn't have a plan at all. Stubbornness won, as it usually did.

Against my requests, Libby wanted to walk across the stage. It took a gait belt, leg braces, a principal, and several Special Education Aides flanking her through her journey across the stage. I handed her a diploma with tears running down my cheeks. I will never forget that day. It took her 14 hard and slow steps to get across to get that diploma. I am grateful she wanted to walk with her friends. Grateful it counted.

I count.  I count everything. And many things. I used to count every step on my walk after school.  No reason except I wanted to know exactly how many steps it took me to get home to Grandma.   For years I would count the time between breaths.  Count the breaths.  The time between medications.  Counting my grief with every breath.

It is a blessing and a challenge to continue to count the days since her last day: 471 days as of 5/17/23.   Counting the last time she ate. Counting the last time she laughed.  Counting back to the last times she sang.  I don’t need to keep counting, but it is a balm at times for my heart to count these moments and days. Instead, I can count the inches on her tree has grown, how long I’ve been living in my apartment, or how happy Mariah is.  I can count on the end of my 19th year of teaching.

 This is a monumental passage in my life.  Until now, I have never before lived alone.  I have never had my own bathroom. Never had my own closet. I have found that I am better with less.

Until now, I have always shared my space in some way.  I have very few items in my tiny home, and that is good. 

 I don’t need things.  I need time and healing peace. I need Libby’s tree to continue to grow.  Today, I have Monkey, my Siamese cat, and he is enough.   

( I do miss my dogs, but there’s no way for me to have them now.)  

There is no internet and no tv in my apartment, and I love the solace and quiet. I lose time in peacefulness as I count my days. I am humbled to have each and every day to carry on. It is a gift to have the time to carry on, as I grow into my own independence.

Mariah continues to flourish and become more and more of a force in her own world. She is kind, thoughtful, honest, and fierce. Mariah is everything I could have wanted her to be and SO MUCH MORE. Derrick and Mariah's understanding and support are a true gift. Cannot say thank you enough.

More and more I cleave to my faith for all of the opportunities and

challenges ahead.  

You are loved.  You are important. You count. Every bit and breath counts. This time is not guaranteed, so we are all graduating in our own ways. And it all counts. For that, we are blessed. "Didn't Know My Own Strength"