Unbroken

I have spent more time than I should this week thinking about broken-ness. I usually say "Everyone has a story." Each has tales of death, destruction, hope, fear, love, winning, loss, pain, grief, happiness...you get the picture. 

One of my favorite movies is We Are Marshall. Based on a true story, IMBd says;

 "On November 14, 1970, Marshall University's football team, its coaching staff, and many fans were killed when the airplane they were traveling on crashed on the outskirts of their hometown of Huntington, West Virginia. Virtually everyone in the community is in mourning and university president Don Dedman is torn when one of the players who did not travel with the team due to an injury pushes to have the team reinstated. Dedman eventually agrees and they hire Jack Lengyel as the new head coach. Building a team from scratch is a daunting exercise requiring many in the community to examine their values."

It is said by Kate Mara (a fiancee of a player that died):

"The sun rose and set, but the shadows remained. When once there was sound, now there was silence. What once was whole, now was shattered."

Our resilience can be astounding. With every fall, we rise. Covered in blood, sweat, and tears - we rise. We gather unimagined strength and rise.

My thoughts turn like the Tasmanian Devil on the Looney Tunes cartoon. And...and..and... I will spare you my lawnmower thoughts.

Everyone has a story. That much is true. We each share a story of courage, strength, even intelligence. That's OUR glory. We rose. Sometimes again and again. But rise we did.

Be proud of yourself. Feel accomplished. Feel strong. 

Jack Lengyel said to his players:

"How you play today, from this moment on, is how you will be remembered. This is your opportunity. To rise from these ashes and grab glory."

Grab it. It's yours. You earned it.

Peter Rothas penned in The Author's Endnote of the book A Slow Regard Of Silent Things:

"I cannot help but wonder how many of us walk through our lives, day after day, feeling slightly broken and alone, surrounded all the time by others who feel exactly the same way.

 

I am one of you. You are not alone. You are all beautiful to me."

Yep. Everyone has a story. Choose your ending. I choose strength, although I feel weak. Courage, although I feel insecure. Resilience, although I feel like I might crumble. And hope though, at times, I feel hopeless. 

I choose lots of hope.

My Joshua Tree

Super Bowl is this Sunday. I absolute-without-a-doubt love the game, gathering, food, and fun. My birthday is on the 2nd of February and I ALWAYS pretend the party is for me. 

One of my "kids" and Tyson's bestie is Josh Holms. He resides in Wyoming and makes it down every year for our shin-dig.

Josh isn't big on hugs, yet, since I am a HUGE hugger he reluctantly gives in to my demands. Don't get me wrong. It is NOT how you visualize a hug. It's more of a grab, turn your head, QUICKLY move forward, release kind.

At least I get one. AND it makes me VERY happy.

Josh and his sister Jenna have not had the easiest of lives. We have laughed with him. Cried with him. Mourned with him. Celebrated with him. And never, ever, EVER stopped believing in him. I used to worry about that kid. Not so much anymore. He is now DOCTOR Holms and is a professor at a University in Wyoming. I am VERY proud of him.

I have thought and thought and thought what to say about this boy. We are lucky to have him in our lives. I love him. I respect him. I honor him. I cherish him. I know every member of my family feels this way. I know his sister and her cute family feel exactly the same.

Maybe, just maybe, we are in charge. Fate doesn't reign. I think - no I KNOW - strength, power, kindness, fortitude, honor, intelligence, perseverance - everything positive - lies within. WE are the master of our destiny. Josh taught me that.

According to the .gov site of the National Park Service the Joshua Tree is:

"an important part of the Mojave Desert ecosystem, providing habitat for numerous birds, mammals, insects, and lizards. Joshua tree forests tell a story of survival, resilience, and beauty borne through perseverance. They are the silhouette that reminds those of us who live here that we are home."

Meet MY Joshua Tree.

 

Perfectly imperfect.

One day Shelby said "You have got to see our problems too. Your kids are not perfect." Ummmmmm. Sorry Shelby, I beg to differ. I am fully aware that they cry and moan and fight and can be lazy and can not believe in themselves. Yeah. I get it. I see it. However, I choose to see the healthy, strong, loyal, smart, compassionate, giving, beautiful side of them at all times.

There is a "joke" in our family that Goose is the favorite child. Let's put that to rest. He is. 

Goose is the kindest soul I know. He loves each member of the family immensely (carrying that love to extended family and friends) and takes care that each knows to turn to him if anything is needed. His laughter is contagious. He is kind. And handsome. And loyal. And giving. And loving. Honest. True. Beyond all? Good.

Except Tyson is my favorite. He is the most giving person I know. He provides for everyone. And NEVER asks for anything in return. His sense of humor is intense. He is smarter than smart. Everyone knows that if help is needed, Tyson is the first to show as well as the last to leave - and doesn't stop in between. Best of all? He listens. And cares. And smiles. Is handsome. Loyal. Honest. True. Beyond all? Good.

Except, maybe, Tanna is my favorite. She is the strongest person I know. She cares for her family without boundaries. She helps without asking for herself. She sees light. And goodness. And laughs when she finds something funny. She cries when it's not. She is fearless. And beautiful. And kind. And loyal. And true. Beyond all? Good.

Shelby just might be my favorite. She is the most honest person I know. She constantly studies what is needed to improve herself and others around her. She genuinely wants the best for everyone and will teach any who will listen. She lights up a room simply with her presence. She is a force beyond description. She is fearless. Beautiful. Kind. Loyal. True. Beyond all? Good.

Jaden is my favorite. There I said it. It's a fact. Don't question me.

Jaden is the most loyal person I know. He fiercely defends the underdog. His smartness is unrivaled. He loves his family and when he hugs you? I swear it is a gift from heaven above. He is handsome. Kind. Loyal. True. Beyond all? Good. 

In 2010, Pink released her hit song "Perfect".

...Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel

Like you're less than perfect.

Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing

You are perfect to me...

My family IS perfect. Agatha Christie said:

A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crashes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.

I remember saying to one of my children that was doubting themselves "Just see yourself through my eyes."

Perhaps Tom Petty crooned it best in "Wildflowers":

You belong among the wildflowers. You belong in a boat out to sea. You belong with your love on your arm. You belong somewhere you feel free. 

 

New Year. New ME.

2020 brought triumph, tragedy, sickness, health, quarantine, gatherings, funerals, births, happiness, tears, joy, pain, motorcycle rides, and loneliness. I watched television this last month more than I have in my entire life. I cried. I smiled and I laughed. I set goals. Some I kept. Some not so much.

I hear people saying they are excited to give the year the boot. Sayonara. See ya. Bye-Bye. But maybe, just maybe, I'll miss some of it.

My family worried beyond worry that I would get COVID. Guess what? I did. My ENTIRE family was sick. I was very sick. I worried that I'd die. Then, I WANTED to die. I didn't die. I always tell my kids, "Quit being dramatic." SOMEONE needed to follow their own advice. I took my vitamins like a champ. I ate. I drank tons of water. My work was BEYOND patient with. It has been over a month. I'm not 100% yet, but I'm on my way and feel ever so much better.

Christmas came and went. My family was magical. I cherished my kids and shared the grand babies excitement. This year I designed shirts and placed the years pics in a movie to the song "Run" by Pink. 

Here's the bloody, bloody truth 
You will hurt and you will lose
I've got scars you won't believe
Wear them proudly on my sleeve
I hope you'll have the sense to know
That sadness comes and sadness goes
Love is hard and play life loud
It's the only thing to give a damn about
Take the best of what I've got
And then you know no matter what
Before you walk away
You know you can run
Run, run, run
Back to my arms, back to my arms
Run, run, run
Back to my arms
And they will hold you down

All year I have worried that my family truly doesn't realize how much I love them. Love is a strange word, isn't it? It's so small with a huge meaning. I love my family. I love them. I LOVE THEM. I do. So I movied, and designed and bought them each the board book "Wherever You Are My Love Will Find You" by Nancy Tillman. It's a beautiful book. EVERYONE should read it and feel that kind of love.

Spring was beautiful. The birds reappeared and sang to me. We have a bird feeder in our backyard. It's right by a tree. The birds fill the tree and eat to their pleasure. If I open the window above my desk, I can hear them chirping. One day, Mark and I were sitting in the hot tub. The bird food was out. 50 or more birds flew to the bush by the tub and stared at Mark until he finally got out and filled the feeder. 

Summer brought sunshine, sprinklers and motorcycle rides. Mark had put a wow-its-so-amazing motor in my bike. He COULD NOT wait to ride it. He gasped and grunted in HE-MAN style when he pulled it out of the garage. Honestly, I just rolled my eyes at him. 

I'm not a big Autumn fan. I do like the colors. I always say that "I hate Sunday because I despise Monday and I hate Fall because I despise Winter." This year, I decided to embrace each season and see the beauty and wonder of each. Fall brought warm days, cool nights, popcorn, movies, drives, and peace. Mark and I took a weekend and rented a cabin by Zion. He pushed me in my wheelchair on a path by the river. It was warm and sunny and beautiful.

One day we took off in the truck and he drove me up a canyon. We stopped by a creek. The sun warmed my shoulders, the scene was beautiful, the creek bubbled and gurgled and Mark read to me from the book we were reading at the time. I left refreshed and rejuvenated.

Winter has brought snow and the peaceful evenings in the silence of the snowfall. My world feels like a snow globe. I look out my window to see the flakes on the trees and grass. Instead of cursing and bemoaning misfortune, I see wonder and magic.

I keep a candle on my desk. "BEAUTIFUL GIRL, YOU CAN DO HARD THINGS." I can. You can. We can. I keep it as a reminder to fight hard. Remember the good. And to ALWAYS know that I will win.

Welcome 2021. I hope the year brings peace, family and love beyond measure. This year has big steps to fill. Better get started.

Well Done....

It's official. I need to change the name of my blog. Something about doom, destruction, death. Any ideas?
August began wrapped in sadness. Donald Shomaker passed. When I think of Donald, I think of that scripture. You know the one. From the bible. Matthew 25:21

"His lord said unto him, well done, thou good and faithful servant..."

Donald was a sweet, funny man. Years back, he was in a mining accident. He hurt. All the time. Every bump in the road, every slight movement brought moans of pain. Then just as quickly as the agony left his lips came a statement. "You're doing good." Never, ever, EVER did he make you feel you weren't enough or trying as hard as you could. He was the kindest man.
I love Mr. Rogers. I like how he talked TO kids and taught in such a way that children understood and grasped the message. He vocalized that emotion is good and that letting it out releases anger, fear and frustration while instantly gaining inner peace.
According to Insider.com:

"You may know him simply as "Mister Rogers" but Fred Rogers, the man behind the beloved children's show "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" that ran for 33 years, was more than a TV personality. He was also a producer, writer, musician, puppeteer, show runner and Presbyterian minister."

Donald lived simply. He furloughed his goals and dreams to raise 3 wonderful children and never regretted a minute of that decision. I met Donald when I was 14. He had just "found" religion, gave up all his ghosts and demons and remained a faithful member of the LDS church until his last breath. To me, that showed his strength, his integrity, his perseverance and his loyalty. He was way smarter and stronger than he ever let show.
I guess my take-away from his life is this: Get to know the "insides" of people. The ticking in each of us that makes the pieces whole. Be kind. Always.
Mr. Rogers said it best. "I'm proud of you. I hope that you're proud of you too."

Keeping My Head On A Swivel

I work from home, therefore, I listen to many, many, MANY podcasts. I gravitate toward True Crime but the solved ones. I like it all wrapped up in a nice bow with the bad guy/girl caught; convicted; behind bars.

Drives Mark crazy.

"Why do you listen to that crap?"

"I'm taking notes so that when I kill you I won't get caught." Duh.

The stated mantra from each podcaster is "Keep your head on a swivel."

The Steel Horse Family jumped on our motorcycles and rode again. This time we went to sunny California to see Yosemite and the Redwoods. We made our way along the coast through Oregon and landed at Crater Lake.

Maybe it's a "rider thing" but I tend to keep my head to the right. Therefore, I see most of the views off on that side. This time I made sure that I looked BOTH right and left. This time I kept my head on a swivel.

I had my left foot bungied down.

I smelled the fresh mown fields, ocean air, forest trees, wildflowers and the stink of dairies along the roads.

I saw trees - HUGE trees that were dated back thousands of years.

I cooled in a river at Yosemite (fully clothed).

I ate the best-est breakfasts I have ever had, yet my favorite meal was at a park outside Crater Lake where Jan and Theresa cut up gas station sandwiches, opened chips and poured lemonade.

I was heated beyond my stamina and faced bone-chilling cold.

I laughed with family-friends.

I missed my kids fiercely.

I saw birds and dogs and kitties and elk and squirrels and deer and cows and horses.

I DID NOT see Sasquatch.

I stayed in an absolutely amazing cabin.

I was turned down to stay at the Traveler's Lodge because (I didn't know this was a real thing) I was with a group on motorcycles. DO NOT give them your money.

I sat in the sand and heard waves crashing on the shoreline.

I rode through beautiful clear skies, fog, rain and wind.

I lost my crap when we went on the Old Coast Highway and each bump nearly ripped off my head.

I cried as Uncle Ron was taken away in an ambulance.

I saw millions of crickets covering the road.

I saw waterfalls and rocks, and streams and boulders and lakes and trees and mountains and snow and...

I hugged my Uncle Bobby.

I laughed when Randy left Jan at the gas station.

I NEVER asked for anything. I'm not kidding. There was always a helping hand reaching toward me.

As usual, Mark took excellent care of me. He packed/unpacked the Harley. He kept me hydrated, fed and always happy.

See our world. Truly see it. Smell it. Feel it.

You don't have to go on a huge trip to enjoy the wonders of our mother Earth. Simply look in your back yard or out the front window.

Oh. And keep your head on a swivel.

Broken Halos

I should be doing some Freelance design. Trust me, I have clients that are holding. I think that they might want to be holding around my neck, but I have had this blog on my mind for over a week and it is driving me nuts, so I'm writing first. I guess clients will wait.

Seems like lately all I write about is gloom and doom. Death follows me like a rabid dog.

My intent from the beginning was to use my words to write about my life. Therefore, here is another blog about the horrid horrible.

I read that Kenny Rogers died. What? I LOVE Kenny Rogers. Was he really THAT old? My very first 45 was of Kenny singing "The Gambler." It was a Christmas gift from Diane Brown. Does Diane even remember gifting me that record? I do. I'm so grateful she did. She gave me a gift of new music I had never experienced before. Country music. I listened fervently to every word sung to me, and filled the air with my own singing. I absolutely loved it. Thank you Diane.

Later that day, I received a text from my cousin Ronda. "Lexi passed away yesterday". What? Ohmygosh, WHAT? Do you remember "Ashes To Ashes"? It's a blog I wrote a while back about Cory Jo. Yep. She was Ronda's daughter. Lexi was her big sister. Both girls, all of Ronda's kids, are gone.

I don't know how Ronda is keeping it together. I would lose my mind. Alas, keeping it together, she is and I hurt for her. Terribly.

This morning, Mark was showing me a song by Chris Stapleton. Broken Halos. I thought of Lexi Marie.

Lexi fought battles that many of us are not able to understand. They were hers. Nobody, I mean NOBODY gets to judge or use my ever-most-hated-statement beginning with "If it were me...".

Many would say that Lexi had a broken halo. I would argue. Vehemently.

Lexi was kind - beyond a normal-kind kind. She genuinely cared about those she loved. She NEVER let me pass without hugging me and asking about my life. Her laughter was contagious and her beauty within combined with her outer beauty. She was a force that forgot to seize her own power. Nor did she hold on to that amazing-ness to see her through the bad times.

I wish I had told her more often. I wish she knew. Why don't we believe in our own uniqueness? Why not grasp that power?

My new favorite television show is "A Million Little Things".  It's on ABC. Mark sat watching it with me for all of 5 minutes. He got up and said "It's way too sappy." And left.

He might be right.

The premise is:

Set in Boston, a tight-knit circle of friends are shocked after a member of the group dies from suicide unexpectedly. The friends realize that they need to finally start living life as they cope with their loss. The title is a reference to the saying "Friendship isn't a big thing - it's a million little things."

A couple of episodes back, the friends gathered for a dinner to celebrate Jon.  A toast was given by Theo, who is 10. He was studying Egyptians at school. He said "The Egyptians believe you die twice. Once when you take your final breath and then again the last time someone says your name."

I'm here to tell you, I have not forgotten. So let me say loudly "Uncle Wendell, Cousin Sheena, Cousin Randall's wife - Cherie, Cousin Tonya's baby, Grandma Caroline, Grandma Elizabeth, Grandpa Pete, Grandpa Lyn, Aunt Jean, Uncle Lyn, Aunt Marie, Aunt Joy, Aunt Mel, Aunt Charlene, Uncle Paul, Aunt Charlene (yes, there are two), Cousin Lori, Cousin Rebekah, Cousin Stephanie's husband Kevin, Cousin Rick's wife Lori, Pat Nakai, Jared Nakai, Denise Jeppesen, My-Best-Friend Ray, Rebecca Hoyt, Max, Cory Jo, Korby's mom, Celeste's mother, Cousin Monicas husband Cory, Aunt Norma, Uncle Henry, Granny, Grandpa Jack, My Dad - Bob Allen, Keith, Lexi Marie.

I know I forgot to mention someone. As per my addled brain, I can't think. I'm relinquishing to you. Say the names of everyone in your life who has died. Keep them alive.

My names may or may not mean anything to you. However, the people bearing those names affected my life. I'm happy to say that with joy.

Thank you Lexi for giving us your sweet spirit to keep in our hearts forever. Yours was not a broken halo. According to Chris Stapleton:

Angels come down
From the heavens
Just to help us on our way
Come to teach us
Then they leave us
And they find some other soul to save