Montana Vacation

We just returned from a vacation to Montana.  We did things a little differently this time.  This trip wasn't so much about visiting people but rather about visiting places.  It was also an unstructured vacation.  We didn't plan too far ahead, sometimes only minutes!  I'm a planning kind of gal so I had to let loose of the reins a bit, but I really enjoyed it.

One of our stops was to Big Timber Waterfall in the Crazy Mountains.  When we last lived in Montana we went there from time to time for a little day trip.  I love that place!  The last time I remember being there was 22 years ago.  Our son, Sam, was only 2 weeks old and Ben and Maria were only 8 and 12 years old. This return visit was overdue!

Do you ever try to imagine yourself back to a favorite spot? Well, this is a place I go to in my mind sometimes.  That visit 22 years ago, for some reason, was special. Part of it was that we had a new baby and I remember feeling that our family felt just right, complete.  I just remember feeling a strong sense of peace and joy.

I took this photo of Mike at the waterfall on that visit 22 years ago.  He had just been sitting there relaxing and looking handsome.  One year I framed it as a gift for him.

Years after that, Maria did a painting for him, based off that photo.

And then, her painting became the cover for one of his CD's.

Of course, I wanted him to recreate that photo.  You wouldn't believe how many times I took his picture, making him move this way and that way, until I settled on this one.  It isn't perfect but close.  It makes me happy!

After that "photo shoot" we just hung out there. We saw a few people early on the trail but seemed to have the place to ourselves after that. It was so lovely! It was so perfect.

Early in our marriage we lived on a farm in Montana and had most of our hours spent together.  It was one of my favorite times for just that reason.  Now, with both of us working, it isn't that way.  Like most couples, we really have to be intentional about making time for each other.  I loved this day because it was just us, reliving memories and making new ones.  Such a day is a gift, nothing less.

We talked about our sons and our daughter and their childhoods. It went by so quickly.  It was fun reliving those memories, just a little bittersweet.  Still, it made me think about how precious a memory is! We can go back to those times whenever we wish, as long as we have our memories.

But then, as long as I have Mike it is as though I still have a child, right? Get off that log before you fall in, Mike!

This man... I know that I am so blessed to get to go through this life with him. I better stop with the mushy stuff, though, or I will embarrass him. 

Water! I just love being near water!

I have aged in the 22 years between visits to Big Timber Waterfall.  So many things have happened in our lives, mostly good things.  We could not have dreamed of how our lives would be, all the places we'd go, the new people added to our family during those years. It makes me wonder what new experiences are ahead for us.  Now matter what lies ahead, I'm certain I will look back at this visit to the waterfall as one of my favorite days.

This last photo was one of my favorites. Sunshine through the trees in the mountains always makes me feel closer to God somehow. It is almost as though his love and caring is coming down with those rays. Peace.

Retro Post... Homesteaders

This is day 3 of my retro posting. In case you missed my explanation, I am going through posts from my first year of blogging. This is another from February 2011.

Homesteaders

This is a picture of my great grandma, probably taken in the 70's.  This is pretty much how I remember her.  I was a teen-ager when she died.  I remember being sad but as I think back, I don't really remember having a lot of interaction with her.  I saw her only as she was then, an old lady.  I don't remember her being terribly cuddly or warm but she was always nice to us.  I do remember her Southern accent with a voice that stood out in a crowd.  We didn't have any cute name we called her.  In fact, I remember that we called her, "great-grandma".   It seems strange now that we didn't call her anything warmer or shorter.  I wish we'd called her Grandma Rhoda.  Too late now.  I'm sure at the time she was wearing this dress,  I probably just thought of it as an old lady's dress.  Today, as I look at this picture, I'm thinking, "Is that Orange Paisley?!"  

This is her in her younger years.  She and my great-grandpa were Wyoming Homesteaders.  They left North Carolina and arrived in Wyoming on an emigrant train.  My Grandma Rose was just a baby at that time and the homestead was so far out in the boonies that Grandma Rose was an adolescent before she ever got to come into town! 

Now, I am awed by what they did and how their life was.  I wish I'd had sense enough as a child to ask her questions about her life.  I really know nothing of her life before Wyoming.  I've heard stories of their homestead years but not from her point of view.  What was it like to live in a drafty log cabin on the Wyoming prairie?  How in the world did they provide food for all their children during the long winters?  Was she ever scared?  Did she ever have a moment to herself?  Did she have a chance to have fun or was her life always a struggle to keep up?  What about her faith?  How much contact did she have with her family in North Carolina?  Who helped her when she gave birth?  What was her grocery list like when my great-grandpa went to town maybe once or twice a year?  How did they make money?

So many questions.  Too late.

Joyful Melancholy

Tonight I ran downstairs on a little errand and I got distracted by a basket of old photographs. I'd pulled the basket out Sunday afternoon, thinking I should go through those old photos and get them sorted. I suppose I'm the only one long on good intentions and short on follow-through?  Anyway...

Like I was saying, tonight I wandered past that basket again. I didn't really go through it but I picked up one little batch of photos to treat myself to a walk down memory lane.  It took me back to when I was working as an oncology nurse. It was a time when I felt close to a lot of patients, knew many of them over an extended period of time. I loved my co-workers and enjoyed my days working with them. I've been gone long enough that I don't very well remember the bad days, mostly just the good.

The photos were taken the day we were having a big whoop-de-do outdoor party honoring our patients.  It had been arranged for a patient to cut my hair off for another donation to Locks of Love. I won't go through that story again now but you can read about it here on Maria's blog.  Her version makes me seem like some kind of hero, so of course I'm hoping you'll read it. I'm not a hero. I do admit to being  a fast hair-grower, though.

Tonight I looked at these photos and I realized I was standing there all alone in the basement, smiling widely with the memory of that day.  I remember the patients there getting chemo asking me about my weird hairstyle that day. I'd put it into a series of ponytails in preparation for the cutting. It was goofy but I felt I had permission to be silly that day. That's actually a pretty good feeling; it makes a person feel kind of free.

When I was called outside for the cutting, I was surrounded by onlookers and even reporters.

What a weird experience that was!.

It wasn't really about me, though.

It was about Sharyn and all the other patients.

I remembered how it felt to see Sharyn getting into the fun.

I'm sure she didn't feel well, but for that moment, I don't think she was thinking about her troubles.

This was my favorite photo, though.

Look at her eyes!

She was working those big chocolate eyes for the cameras!

Then, I thought of Sharyn and all the other patients that also became friends.

I still see many of them when I'm out shopping and such.

In fact, at mall lunch just today I shared a happy hug with a former breast cancer patient.

I'd spent so many hours with her during her chemo days.

I was so happy to see her!

Sunday night, when we were out for Mother's Day, I shared a hug

with the spouse of one of my favorite patients from the past.

I love that feeling, knowing that I was a small part of their family history.

Then, the melancholy...

So many people who are no longer living.

So much sadness.

So many families with holes in their tapestry.

How do people deal with that when they do not believe in a life after this one?

My faith does not stop my grief, but it gives me hope.

And after I wallow in the melancholy,

I come out the other side with

a sense of peace.

I feel gratitude for the relationships I've experienced.

I'm happy for the time with those special people, the patients and my co-workers.

I realize my memories, both joyful and melancholy, are a lasting gift.

Christmas Day 2013 in Photos

Is there anything cuter than a baby with a baby?

Sam, snuggling Miss Jane, while wearing a new hat.

My husband is such a fun Grandpa.

The girls adore him!

Our son-in-law, Eric.

You can't really tell but he's wearing his new

49er's jacket.

Elise enjoyed carrying the gift bags around as if they were purses.

In this photo she was settled in, waiting for me to give her and her

"purses" a ride on the wheeled kitchen chair.

Maria and Cordelia opening up a special surprise gift. 

It was a box of vintage My Little Ponies from one of 

Maria's friends in Montana (thank-you, Robin!) to Cordelia

That girl loves those My Little Ponies!

Mike has been talking about getting a new mandolin

for some time but always talks himself out of it.

I decided it was time for him to have a new toy!

I received such lovely gifts, but

none more precious than 

memories of these beautiful faces.

I hope your day was memorably sweet as well!

A Walk down Christmas Memory Lane

I was looking at some of our Christmas decorations last night and I realized many of them are sweet reminders of their givers. Let me show you.

This star was a gift from some church friends.

 I guess I don't know where this one originated but I think  it came to us

from Mike's Mom. It was one that Mike knew from his childhood and that makes it special.

I am really appreciative that it has held up over time

(and that I haven't squished it).

Ben made this one for us.

Wasn't he a cute little guy?

This one is all the more special as Ben is far away

from us this Christmas.

This is one of many hand-painted ones that originated in Harlowton, MT and were

give to us by our friend, Evelyn. She gave us a new one each Christmas we lived there

and she even continued sending them to us for several years after we moved away.

Evelyn is gone from this Earth now but she is not forgotten!

When we moved from Harlowton to Alamogordo, NM we made another friend who

purchased fancy ornaments from Hallmark for us each year. This was one of my favorites.

Her name was Laura and she also has moved on from this life.

Our memories of her make us smile.

Sam also gave us an ornament featuring his own sweet little face.

For the record, that was the year he tried trimming his own hair.

Even so, he was pretty cute!

I really like this rag angel. Our friend, Kim, gave it to us about 15 years ago.

Kim was a young mom who volunteered to babysit Sam when I first went back

to college. She was very sweet and so generous with her time. We went on quite a few excursions

together with our little kids. She was always ready to have some fun!

The last time I talked to Kim she handed the phone to her husband so he

could tell me about the rare disease she had developed, the one that was robbing 

her of her personality and eventually her life.

Well that was mean of me to start out with a happy-go-lucky type of post 

and then to throw the sadness of loss in your face. 

I feel kind of bad that I did that but I wasn't really expecting to take that turn myself! 

Sometimes my posts take on a life of their own.

Even with the sadness of loss, I am so grateful for these and so many others

who have been a part of our lives over the span of many Christmases.

We've been blessed.

Anything But Love

You know how some scents or maybe a song can take you back to a different place and time? For instance, the smell of Dove soap takes me right back to my Grandma Rose's house. I love Dove soap for that reason! Do you have things like that?

Well, lately Mike and I have been taking miniature trips back to 1989 and on into the early 90's. We lived in Montana and Mike was pastor at his first parish. Our first year there I was able to stay at home. It was an especially sweet time with Ben, our second oldest. He was 4 years old and I loved that year of getting to focus on time with him. Several years later I was able to stay at home another year when Sam was a baby.

During those stay-at-home years I also got to see more of Mike. We were living in a church parsonage, only a block from our church. One of the nice things about that was that Mike could easily walk home for lunch. Before he went back to the church for the afternoon, we'd turn the television on and watch this show:



Do you remember that series? For Mike's birthday this year, I ordered some DVDs of the show. Holy Cow! There are a LOT of episodes on just a couple of DVDs. Mike and I are chipping away at them a little at a time.

I'm not going to tell you this show is especially edifying or anything. However the characters are quirky and fun and we are entertained. The best part of watching them again, though, is just spending that time together and walking through those memories of a different time. Those weird little strings of shared memories are part of what is sweet about growing older (I'm not saying "old" yet) together. I like that.

Come To The River

(click on title to hear song)

Rhett Walker Band

from the album Come To The River

  

I'm torn between myself and your truth

These cursed memories, forever seeping through

My thirst for myself left me wanting more 

Till I found myself face down on your shore 

You say

Come to the river

OH AND Lay yourself down 

And let your heart be found 

You say come to the river 

Drink from the cup I pour 

And thirst no more

My restless heart, led me astray

To my selfish pride, I became my own slave 

But you placed a thirst in me, with no drink in sight 

Cause I could not see, till I saw through your eyes

Mother's Day Gift Ideas Day 2

You are going to love this idea!

One year, Maria took a round tin (vintage?) and turned it into a treasure for me.  I am sure a variety of containers could be used.  I loved this one.

 She filled it with 356 little slips of paper.

On each slip of paper was one of her childhood memories involving me.  How could she even think up that many memories?

Isn't that cool?  Each was folded in half just once.  It took restraint to read just one a day, but that made it a a gift to last all year.  Truthfully, it will last a lifetime.

After I read each one, I folded it accordion style, just so I could tell which I'd already read.  Of course I saved every single one.

It was so much fun to read through them.  Some of her memories were things I also remembered, but some were thoughts she had that I never even knew about at the time.  It was fun to read all those memories from her point of view.  I knew this took a lot of thought and time but oh my, what a treasure it was, and still is, for me!

Life in the Hood

Do you know what you are looking at here?

You are looking at fond memories!

This is a hood off an old vehicle.  It has been undisturbed now for years, hiding in the grass on a Montana farm, about 10 miles from the Canadian Border.  This is the farm where my husband, Mike, grew up.  This is the farm where he worked hard but played hard as well.

This hood was used for a magnificent sled for Mike and his sisters.  I'm guessing some kids from neighboring farms enjoyed it as well.  Mike's dad would hook it up behind their pick-up, let the kids climb on, and pull them around for a ride!  That sounds kind of dangerous to us now in our safety-conscious world, but I'm sure he was careful... pretty sure.

Mike looks at that hood and it instantly brings him back to a precious time in his life.  It was a time when he didn't have the responsibility of a whole congregation resting on his shoulders.  He didn't have people come to him in distress, unable to pay their rent or buy groceries for their children.  It was a time when no one looked to him to help them recover a damaged marriage.  It was a time when his Dad was alive and Mike's goal of each day was to have FUN!    It was a time that built him up, gave him roots and prepared him for his future work.

This makes me think about the responsibility we have as we raise children.  I'm afraid I didn't "play" enough with our kids.  If I had it to do over, I'd be a lot more fun I think.  That time of childhood goes by so quickly, but those memories, if they are wholesome and good, can be called up and give strength many years later.