I'm Trying

Faith is not something I have always had.  I mean, I guess I have had it, but I never really felt it.  So, I guess that means I didn't really have it.  It's funny how when you lose someone you are so very, very close to, like the two people who created you and brought you into this world, you start to feel like you have to have faith, you have to believe.  You have to believe that there is something greater that their souls go to when they leave this world.  That their bodies don't just rot in the ground or in a coffin and that is the end.  I can't believe that, I won't believe that.  What is the point to our lives if that is all there is in the end?

There have been few times when I have really felt like I needed to have something bigger to hold on to.  When I had to believe or I could simply not carry on.  I begged for there to be more and for a second chance once when I was looking death in the face and I have begged for there to be more when my mom died.  Now that my dad has died also, I have decided that simply begging isn't enough.  I have to believe.  I have to commit.  I have to not doubt that which I cannot see.  How can I expect there to be more when I won't commit to believing that there is?  And more importantly, what do I have to lose?  If there isn't more, then i will never know the difference.  But if there is more, oh my goodness, why would I want to miss out on that simply because I wouldn't believe?

It will be a process, it will be a time of learning and questioning.  It will be a journey but one I am willing to take.  I am so blessed to have people in my life willing to teach me, to walk beside me and help me.  There is something bigger.  I have to believe it, I have to live it, I have to let it into my heart.  If I ever want to stop not allowing myself to see the joy in the Holidays and the birthdays that come along, the Mother's Days and the Father's Days that I no longer can celebrate, the anniversaries, the start of the new Seasons, then I have to believe that there is something MORE!!!  That God IS. That my mom and dad are exactly where they BELIEVED they would be when their spirits left this world.  That they are together again, maybe not as husband and wife, but as something even more amazing and wonderful.  That I will see them again.  So this Advent Season, I am beginning my journey.  I may stumble along the way, I may have my doubts, but I will stick with it and I will find  my way.  It may not be by this January, when dad and mom would have both celebrated their birthdays, it may not be by April, when they would have celebrated another year of marriage, but it will happen.

Remembering and Reflecting

My Mom hated having her picture taken and she probably hates my whimsical rendition of her even more.  But if she can see this painting, I hope she sees what I was trying to capture were the things that made her my beautiful mom.....her beautiful blue eyes, her gorgeous white hair and the gentle smile and look she could have when she was letting her guard down and just letting herself feel loved.  The pearls around her neck represent the beautiful gift my dad gave her when they married.  Pearls that I have the honor of owning now but find myself to scared to wear for fear of losing them.

Three years ago today I lost my mom.  A quick, swift blow to my world and the rest of my life.  She was snatched from us in a blink of an eye, clearly a decision God made and was certain of, for there was no doubt she would not return to us in any form.  Regardless of how much my heart hurts because of that swift swipe of her life, I am so thankful for her that it happened that way.  It's how she would have wanted it.

The past three years have not been easy and try as I may, moving forward seems to happen at a snails pace.  My dad was my inspiration to move forward everyday because somehow, he, the person who loved her more than anyone, found the strength to get up everyday, accomplish what needed to be done in the day, care for himself, be productive and carry on.  If he could do it, then surely I could do it.  One month and 26 days ago, Daddy left me and went to be with Mom, ironically at just about the exact same time of day as she left us.  Actually, it's really not so ironic at all, they were one.    I guess he just didn't feel like getting up and doing it "all' everyday anymore and I can't say I blame him. You did an awesome job daddy, and I am so proud of you!!!!  I know you were tired.

Some people deal with death really well,  I am not one of those people,  Many people find comfort knowing their loved ones are in a better place.  I may believe that they are in a better place for themselves, but my selfish heart believes that the better place for them is here with me.  But I am tired of being sad.  I am tired of yearning for someone, or now for two someones, to come back to me or answer the phone when I call.  I don't want to be sad anymore.  I want to create art that is happy art, not art that is helping me work through DEATH.  It's enough already and surely people are tired of me still grieving.  But the thing is, just about when I thought I was going to be able to move on with mom's passing, daddy had to go and die.  Damnit!!!!!!  And as if losing your first parent isn't bad enough, losing the second one is worse.  It's final.  I have no more parents.  I am an orphan.

The best I can hope for is to find a way to keep moving forward.  My art is how I best express myself these days.  As pitiful looking as it may be, I keep putting myself in classes with super inspiring artists, real artists.  My work compared to their's is juvenile and messy.  But, it is mine and it is helping me express what I need to express.  My hope is to start focusing my art on something new and different.  Something inspiring and refreshing for me.  I have some tough days ahead with clearing out and closing up my childhood home and letting go of my attachment to it.  But I will keep my daddy's strength and determination in the front of my mind and will move forward and hope to make mom and dad proud.

Mom, I love you and miss you so much, but I know how overjoyed you are that daddy is there with you now.  I promise I will try and find comfort in that.  Halloween will never be the same ever again for me.  But hey, I just thought of something........you lost your mom on Halloween and yet every year you still insisted on going and getting candy to hand out at the house, knowing very well you would probably only have a handful of trick-or-treaters.  You wanted to be sure you had candy for whoever may come to the door.  I guess I should let you be my role  model and learn to celebrate this Holiday again.  I hope for you, there are trick-or-treaters in Heaven and you get more than a handful come to your door.  I love you and if you want to ring my doorbell tonight just to let me know you are happy, I promise to answer and have a frozen Snickers bar ready to hand you.                      

Happy Halloween Mom!!

Three Weeks Later

It's been three weeks since we said our final good byes.  The days go so slow and finding purpose in my days is a challenge.  I still go to cal you, morning and night, checking the clocks to see if it is time or if I am late.  Sometimes I still call, just to hear your voice on the message saying you can't get to the phone.
Last night I had such a vivid dream, though I know not of it's meaning.  It was Easter, a Holiday of celebrating re-birth.  I was home in my childhood neighborhood.  The church that was once across the street on the hill, that is now a Masonic Lodge, was a church again.  Crowds of people were gathering for Easter services and activities.  Family  members hiding Easter Eggs for a hunt that would happen later.   So many people gathering to celebrate a Holy Day.  I drove around the block, over and over again, past our house, but no one was ever home.  No car in the driveway, no main front door open and you standing at the storm door awaiting our arrival, no sign of life at all.  What struck me though was how bright WHITE everything was.  Everyone was wearing white and there was such a brightness and clarity to everything.  It frightened me, it was all so familiar but yet all so strange.  I just continued driving around the block, waiting for something to change, for some sign of life at my childhood home.  I watched everyone else and marveled at how happy and at peace they all were and wished I could stop, get out of my car and join them.  But I couldn't, I didn't belong.
I finally woke from that dream and remembered it so vividly.  All day I thought of  it and thought I had best write it down in hopes it would then leave my conscious and subconscious being.  It's clarity has haunted me all day and made me uncomfortable.
Three weeks have passed since I said my last good byes to you.  Three weeks of trying to understand that I will never see you on this earth again, that you will never be coming home to your things, will never complain to me again about all the solicitors that call you and all the junk you get in the mail.  Three weeks of not having been able to say good-bye the way I would want to say good-bye when I know it is the last time I will ever be able to say it again.  I wish you had come to me in that dream, i wish you had been standing in the doorway or driven up in your car.  I wish you never left and I wish I never had to say good-bye.

PS......please tell mom I love her and miss her oh so very much.

Using my Art

Everyday the mail brings more forms to fill out and mail back.  More ugly ways to remember my dad is no longer here with us.  When my mom passed, this didn't happen, but now that they are both gone, the paper work doesn't end.  Reading a Will that is written in the first person and hearing my dad's voice as I read words he would never actually speak in the real world is something I just can't bring myself to do.  I made it through less than half way, of the first paragraph and broke down sobbing. Not sure I will ever go back and read that paper......instead I handed it to Robby and asked him to just tell me what it is I need to do.

Through it all, I turn to the things that help me the most, my art and my family.  I am trying really hard to stay on top of my emotions and not let myself slip into a state that requires medication to get me out of.  Been there, done that, really don't want to re-visit that ugly place again.  Today, I made this entry in a journal I am doing for an on-line art class called "Kingdom Come".  I love the words to the song that accompanied the lesson and decided to include them in my journal entry.  This song continues to play over and over again in my head.  I believe it may just help.

 Oceans

Where Feet May Fail

Tiny, Small Steps

One week and two days ago, I lost my daddy.  I spoke to him on the phone early on a Friday morning and 30 minutes later, he was gone.  Just like that, in a blink of an eye, poof.  Just like my mom almost exactly 3 years ago.  And poof, just like that, my life, and that of my three brothers, has been changed forever.  How to move forward is the struggle I am dealing with now.  My daddy and I were always very close, but after the death of my mom, we became even closer.  He understood the pain in my heart from losing my mom, and I in return, understood the complete emptiness that he felt in his entire being, from losing the woman he had spent 58 years of his life beside.  I told him all the time, I did not know how he got up every morning and continued to move through his life and be productive.  But he did, day in and day out.
Some days, all he did was walk over to his workshop, turn on his Bose Radio that he was so proud of, listen to country music and sit in a chair.  No woodworking would be done, just reminiscing of a better time, a better life.  Other days,  he would be very productive, working for tedious hours on his clocks that he had become famous for.  Beautiful, wooden clocks that he made with love for friends, family and no one in particular.  They were a huge source of frustration for him, but also a huge source of diversion.  With his mind fully engaged on the building of the clocks, he had little room for thoughts of a love lost.  Though I am sure, she was always there, waiting in the wings for a moment to slip into a thought or two.  Perhaps there was a gentle nagging from her that he shouldn't be in the shop working with  power tools all alone.  Or perhaps she reminded him that he hadn't stopped to eat lunch and that it was getting late.
I called my daddy everyday, twice a day and on occasion, a few extra times in between.  I go to the phone to call him even now or realize I haven't called him and know he is going to be worried.  Then it hits me like the sting of freezing cold water when you plunge into an ice bath, he isn't there.  There is no one to call.  I call his phone anyway, just to let the answering machine or voicemail answer so I can hear his voice.  His voice that tells me he can't get to the phone right now, but if I leave him a message,  he will get back to me when he can.  It isn't true, but I listen anyway and then I weep.
There is a lot to be done still.  Things that didn't need to be done when my mom died.  There is an estate to handle and close up.  There are items to be divided and given away.  Soon, the only home I ever knew growing up, will be sold to a total stranger and I will never have that home to go back to.  The home my parents loved and cherished will never be the same.  No one could possibly love that home as my parents did or take care of it as well.  It will be sad to someday drive by and see that it is in need of work or that the lawn has grown full of weeds and in need of mowing.
I don't know how I will work through all of the emotions I am going through right now.  I imagine I will turn to this blog to write thoughts that no one really wants to read, but that I need to get out of my head.  I will probably create art, that no one will really want to see but that will help me express some of the ugly, depressing thoughts that are racing through my mind.  I will cry more tears which I didn't think was possible and I will spend time alone because it is better than having to be in a crowd.  I signed up for a year long art class on line today with Juliette Crane, called Serendipity 2.  Her art speaks to me through her whimsical creatures and girls.  Their faces speak to me with their thoughtful eyes and I am drawn to them.  I figure it will be a great way for me to express some of what is inside of me, without having to tire everyone with listening to me.
Tomorrow I will return to my job, not by choice, but by necessity.  My allotted time of "bereavement" is up.  How someone is able to put a number on the amount of days it takes to grieve the loss of a loved one, is beyond me.  Little children who have no idea what death is or the painful ache it leaves in your soul, will embrace me with their tiny arms, call out my name and pounce on my lap.  And in their best attempts to make me forget the reality of my life, they will make me smile and laugh, if only for a moment.  Tiny, small steps are all I can take right now.  And usually there is a long pause between steps.  It's all I can do.  I am in unchartered waters and know not of what is right or wrong.

The Day Before

 

Tomorrow is the day.
October 31.
A day that no longer means Halloween to me, but marks the anniversary of a day that I will never forget.
A day that I remember every little detail of and play over and over again in my head.
I don't think that is normal, and after two years, I would think I would have learned to not do it still.
But......I haven't.

Tonight I will think about that last phone conversation.
Why I didn't notice something different other than a touch of tiredness in her voice.
Why our strong connection to each other, being the only females in the family, didn't alert me to something that was terribly wrong, brewing.

She comes to me often now, in my dreams.
I can see her completely..
I only use to be able to see her body and never her face.
In my dreams, I know she is gone, but has come back to tell me something.
I wish in my dreams, I could tell her all the things I need to say.
But I only listen to her.

Yesterday morning on my way to work, I was listening to Carbon Leaf.  One of my favorite songs, Block Of Wood, was playing.  I listened, really listened, to the lyrics and played it over and over again.  The sun was coming up over the mountain to the right of me, and there she was.  The sun always rises in the same place each morning on my way to work.  But somedays, not nearly as often as I would like, it is different.  It hits the right side of my face, through the car windows, and warms my skin.  It is in that moment that I know, it is her. 

Things are a little mixed up for me right now and I am working through some things.  Even though she can't do a thing about them, it's nice to know she is still there, trying to hold me up, as I muddle through it all. 

I love you mom and miss you more than I think you could have ever imagined I would.

 

 

Block Of Wood

 

Grab your heart we need to leave
There's no time to cry or grieve
For the fallen family tree

Rise above the flooding plain
Crouching low to duck the flame
Generations against the grain
Up in smoke and down the drain

If the fire, if the flood
Burns the tree and thins the blood
If your tears don't want to dry
I can help you cry
Through the night
Through the night and day
I can't your pain away
But I can help you cry

We'll cut the branch from this tree
Carve a place for you and me
A wooden seat that we can string
From a branch where we can swing

We'll take this block of wood
Carve it down and sand it good
When finished it will be
A souvenir of the family tree

And if the fire, if the flood
Burns the tree and thins the blood
If your tears don't wanna dry

I can help you cry
Through the night
Through the night and day
I can't take your pain away
But I can help you cry
Through the night
Through the night and day
I can't take your pain away
I can try but

God help me please
Come save the family tree
My friends I broke them all
When falling off the wall

In the ash I found an ember
Something warm to help remember
A block of wood that used to be
A strong tall family tree

A strong tall family tree
Blowing in the breeze

Cry through the night
Through the night and day
I can't take your pain away
But I can help you cry
Through the night
Through the night and day
I can't take your pain away
But I can help you cry

 

 

 

Lyrics taken from http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/c/carbon_leaf/block_of_wood.html

 

 

 

 

So this is Christmas........

 

Yes, this is Christmas.  This is what the season is about.  And this year, more than any, I have been reminding myself over and over again of this fact.  This year for me, like for many people, has been stressful, disappointing at times, difficult to navigate and then oh so wonderful all at the same time.

 

My word for 2012 was ACCEPTANCE and that is what I tried to remember.  Acceptance of everything....emotions I couldn't explain, changes in jobs, family situations I couldn't control, decisions people made that I was not in agreement with,  good things that happened to me I did not ask for and any and all other things that would come into my life.  I discovered that Acceptance was a tough word to chose.  It is so much easier at times not to accept things when they are not as we would want them to be.

 

This Christmas is one of those things I would rather not accept.  It is not the type of Christmas I would chose to have, but I have accepted that it is the best Christmas I can have this year.  So, while I sit here with my sweet husband, waiting for my boys to come from their Dad's house so that we may celebrate Christmas together, I want to share a few photos of how I finally pulled together a few decorations in our home this year.  Once I "accepted" the fact that Christmas would be different, I remembered what the season is really about and how lucky I am to have my family with me for any amount of time and that the part of my family which can't be physically with me, is still always in my heart and by my side. 

 

Merry Christmas to you all and may 2013 bring much love and happiness and acceptance to you all.

 

 

 



Happy One Year to My Mom

My Mom's Favorite Painting

 

 

Happy One Year

in Heaven

to you

Mama.

 

Because I can't really write anymore about how I am feeling today,

I am going to leave it up t0 two people that

loved my mom so much.

Here are two posts from two of her grandchildren.

One is from my son Evan who is 17.

The other is from one of my nieces

who is 18.

 

This pretty much shows the love that others had for her.

 

 

http://instagram.com/p/RbslMzxXmp/

You have to click on the above link from Instagram.

I couldn't copy and paste the actual picture and words he wrote.

But please do click the link, because it is beautiful.

 

 

The one below is the one from my niece that she posted on Facebook this morning.

 

A year ago today i lost my first grandparent unexpectedly. this is me and her in the kitchen, I was playing dress-up while she was in the middle of cooking, like she always was. she was such an amazing woman and i miss her every day. she...

taught me so much of what i know today, i remember she used to always tell me "that's a no no" if i did something wrong. thats something ill never forget. hated it then, love it now. we may not have always seen eye to eye on everything like when i told her i was dying some of my hair red. but thats just how she was. she always had the best intentions. the last few times i saw her she would always tell me how much of mature young lady i had become and was still becoming. i miss and love you so much nena and i cant believe you're gone ♥

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This is Me, Emptying My Mind

I am on my way to Richmond, it's 7:20am, Hurricane Sandy is approaching the East Coast.  It is almost the one year anniversary of mom's passing and I am going to see my dad and go visit mom.  Robby is driving and I am watching out the window, looking at the thick, dark clouds this "nor'easter" is bringing, the changing leaves on the trees, the deer in the fields and thinking about mom's last days, and writing down all of these thoughts as we drive.  This will be my blog post.  Not a pretty one or happy one.  But this blog started as a place for me to empty my thoughts out into the universe, and this is one of those kind of posts.  So please, bare with me.

This would have been a Friday last year and I would have been on my way to work, so happy it was Friday finally and looking forward to spending the weekend with my boys.  Mom would have been home, having dropped dad off at dialysis.  Probably reading the paper and having some coffee, enjoying some alone time.  Or did she have a feeling her days were nearing an end?  Could she feel the clot forming in her brain which would soon explode, causing so much damage instantly that she would no longer know how to breathe on her own?  Daddy said she did a lot of extra cleaning those last few days, fretting over small things and needing everything to be perfect.  So typical of her if she thought people would be coming by the house.  Their house is always clean and picked up and super organized, but daddy said she was really going over and above normal.  Why?

I am perfectly aware that it is morbid and of absolutely no use for me to dwell on these types of thoughts, but it is how my mind works.  And NOTHING can make it not work this way.  It is where my mind goes when I am not occupying it with some other productive thoughts.  Riding in the car is the worst!!!!  The 45 minute drive to work and then home from work and this 2 hour and 15 minute drive to Richmond.  My mind is free to think about anything, and this is what it thinks about.

I don't remember if  I talked to mom that Friday or Saturday.  I do know that I spoke to her on Sunday evening, as did Evan, Trevor and Robby.  Mom sounded tired, but not alarmingly so.  I remember after she died, I kept asking Robby if she sounded different to him?  Did she say anything strange or unusual?  Did I miss something in her voice that should have let me know that something wasn't right and I should have done something?  His answer was always the same, "no."  But how could she have been 12 hours away from dying and us not know it?  How could she not know it, or did she?  Was her head hurting and she wasn't saying anything about it?  I have SO MANY QUESTIONS and NO ANSWERS!!!!! That makes me crazy.  I have always had a knack for figuring things our, investigating and snooping around until I find out what I need to know.  But that is useless in this case.

As we are driving, I am looking up to the sky and wondering if mom can see me looking for her?  Can she see me writing this all down and does she see that when I have dreams with her in them, that I can never see her face?  I just know the person in the dream is her.  Why when I was in the cave in Montana, was that the only time that I could see her completely?  She was right beside me, resting her head on my shoulder because she is shorter than me and her arms were wrapped around me.  Holding me so that the black darkness of the cave would not frighten me.  Why is that the only time in a year I have been able to see her face?

How does my dad wake up everyday and want to go on?  His life consists of dialysis 3 days a week and then being home alone, for the exception of my one brother who comes over on his lunch break 5 days a week and another brother who comes once a week and the occasional visits from my other brother and I.  We both live 2 1/2 hours away and don't get home as often as I am sure we would both like to.  How can my dad bare the evenings and night time?  Where does he find the strength and desire to want to go on?  I admire him so much for carrying on though I know his days are tough and very hard on him.  I talk to him twice a day because it is all I can do, but it's not enough.

I can't help but think about my nephew who I will see today.  He came to Richmond on that day with his mom and dad.  He was only 15 at the time and he had to be there with us in the hospital, in mom's room, watching a machine breathe for her while we waited for my dad to return from his dialysis treatment that had been put off for 10 hours.  All the while knowing that when his Papa came back, we would be taking his Nana off the machine that was keeping her body alive.  He had to watch his dad, his uncles and his aunt go through the pain of losing their mom.  Me, the aunt he associates with happiness, silliness and laughter, unable to do anything other than hold her mom's hand, caress her hair and beg her to please open her eyes and not leave me.  No 15 year old should have to witness all that, but he never said a word or left the room to be alone.  His courage and strength was steadfast.

So, now I am here.  I find odd comfort here.  I wish that I lived closer because I would come visit everyday.  I could sit and talk to mom for hours.  I never get to come by myself to see her and just sit and talk about my life and thoughts.  I have new flowers to put on her marker for the Fall and the one year.  We will all come back here together today to do that.  I really wish the sun would shine because it is so pretty here when the sun is out.  The birds chirp and fly from tree to tree, the ducks fly onto the pond and an odd peace comes over me.  But on days like today, there is just gloom and darkness.  I can't come back here on Wednesday because I will be back at home and at work.  My mom lost her mom on October 31 also, 10 years earlier.  I wonder if October 31 of some year is when I will see the both of them again.  Maybe that will be the day I get my answers.  Or maybe then, it won't matter anymore, I will instantly understand it all.

I love you and miss you with all my being.

Staying in The Present

A few days ago I wrote as my status on facebook that I am trying to stay in the present, one day at a time.  But that's not really what I want to do. 

 

Staying in the present means I am re-living the morning of October 31, 2011

over and over again in my head.

 

Staying in the present means I keep thinking about what I could have done

to have made that day turn out differently, even though I already know the answer...

nothing.

 

Staying in the present means that I am trying so hard

 to be excited for a holiday that I don't want to even hear about, but have no choice because I now work at a daycare center where it is what my two year olds are so excited about. 

 

Staying in the present means thinking about the past

and getting stuck in it.

 

Busco's Joy....Final Day and I Find My Word

 Sunday, September 16, 2012

There were a few things I wanted to make sure I got to do before leaving the Ranch.  One was riding horses up to the "Chisum Tree", those of you who are familiar with the John Wayne movie called Chisum will completely understand this.  I also insisted on being able to see Sandra and Tag's chicken coop since the lovely chicks were right across from our Room #7.  I wanted to see how Montana Chickies lived.  And, lastly, I had to come up with my word that would describe the pure joy and contentment I was experiencing through the entire trip.

First was the coop.  Sandra took me over early in the morning before the chicks had even been let out, so I was able to take some pictures of them and then let them out of their coop.  Again, my flash wasn't working so these aren't great, but I kind of like how they were silhouetted in these shots.  Above is the rooster who oddly enough, looks so very much like my handsome Maxwell's daddy.  Pretty neat huh?

I loved the rustic feel to the coop, which is actually in the back of the horse barn.  I think I will be able to adjust quite well to how Montana Chicks live when the day comes for me to have chicks in Montana. 

Our final ride for the trip was one that Anne and I had been begging for.  On the property, there is a lone tree.  Both my husband and Anne's husband are HUGE fans of John Wayne, it's the country boy in them.  One of the all time best John Wayne movies is called Chisum.

 

 

 This is the closing scene in the movie.  John Wayne is under a lone tree overlooking his land which is down in a valley from the tree.  When Anne and David had been to the Ranch a few years ago, they fell in love with Blacktail's version of what we call the Chisum Tree and Anne really wanted me to see it and get a chance to take the beautiful ride up to the tree.  So, Dan promised to take us the morning of our last day and anyone else who wanted to ride along was more than welcome.  It was a gorgeous morning and all of the lovely ladies joined in the ride.

 
The ride was our most challenging of the entire weekend, and I LOVED it.  I was given a different horse to ride, which ironically was Anne's husband's favorite horse at the Ranch.  The views were amazing as we rode.  Eventually, our destination came into view. 

It was so cool to be able to see where we were headed and how far away it was. We pointed it out to the other girls that were riding with us, but I am not sure any of them had ever seen the movie, so they didn't quite get it, at first. 

Then, as we got up to it, the wind picked up, and the views were amazing and they all GOT IT.  This tree seems to just be growing out of rock and is all alone.  We don't know how old it is or anything else about it.  But I am sure if John Wayne could go to Blacktail and see it, he too would say it looks just like the tree in Chisum.  Once you are at the top, the view down below is breath taking.  I just sat on my horse and stared out into the openness in complete disbelief that places like this existed.

I took a picutre of Anne that resembled John Wayne's closing scene. She thought David would like this a lot.

 



Now that dog in the picture up there, that is Busco.  The sweet amazing dog who belongs to one of our wranglers, McKenzie.  Busco is without a doubt the happiest dog I have ever seen.  Every morning he greeted us with a stick for us to throw for him, and when we went riding, Busco was right there with us, running his sweet little heart out.  He would run from the front of the riders where Dan was, all the way to the back of the riders where his master, McKenzie, was.  Back and forth the whole 2-3  hours we would be riding.  And when we got back to the stables, he would find a stick and bring it to us so we could play with him some more.  This dog had more energy than any living thing I have ever seen.  I mentioned to McKenzie on our final ride that morning that Busco had such an amazing life and was such a great dog.  McKenzie said that she had just said that morning that if she could just bottle up Busco's happiness and sell it to people, she would be a millionaire.  It was right there and then that I knew what my level of happiness and contentment in Montana was called......Busco's Joy.
I told everyone in the group that I finally had my word, or two words as it turned out.  Everyone there understood because they had seen how much Busco loved life and enjoyed being in the wide open spaces and the freedom of Montana.  I knew I wouldn't find my word until my trip was almost over and I was right.  But Busco's Joy is not something I wish to only have while in Montana.  That amount of joy and happiness is something I am trying to attain in my everyday life.  No matter how big or small my days are, I want to wake up that happy everyday and live each moment the best I can. 

On our way back to the Ranch at the end of our ride, we rode past a small pond.  I saw something peering through the tall grasses on the other side of the pond and pointed it out to the other riders.  I stopped my horse and realized it was a Moose, drinking water from the pond.  I struggled to get my camera out, but my horse didn't want to stand still and I lost my opportunity.  But others saw it too and I was okay with that.  It was so awesome though to end my trip with actually seeing a Moose up close.  On our rides I had seen cattle, bear, deer and now a moose.  Pretty cool.

Once we were back at the Ranch, it was time to pack up our things, say our good byes and head on down the road.  We had to go back to Helena so that we could catch our plane Monday morning.  We were going to take the scenic route back and go through Augusta.  I went outside and sat on the bench in front of the Ranch to have a few minutes to myself.  I was beginning to get a little weepy at the thought of having to leave and telling my new friends good bye.  I am SO AWFUL at good-byes.  While I was sitting on that bench, I felt my mom leave me again.  I knew she had been with me through the whole trip.  It was a trip my mom would never ever have wanted to go on when she was alive, but i guess in the after life, she has become a little more brave.  I felt her presence when we arrived in Helena, I felt her in the Hogan when we were doing yoga, she was holding me in her arms in the cave, knowing how terrified I am of the dark, and she was with me on my last ride.  Heck, she may have even been with me at the 7R when I was dancing with that sweet little man, which is why I never stepped on his feet.  But when it was all over and I was sitting on that bench, I could tell she was ready to go back, and share her adventures with her loved ones and an emptiness I hadn't felt the whole 5 days, washed over me again.  I shed a few tears, collected myself and thanked her for being with me and remembered Busco's Joy. 

Anne and I packed up the car and off we went.  The drive to Augusta was beautiful.  I don't think I will ever get use to the "highways" of Monatana.  Being able to stop in the middle of the highway to take pictures like these is unheard of where I live.  These last few pictures are a few of the beautiful things I saw and our final shopping destination, Latigo and Lace.  It was here that I bought Robby his birthday present for his upcoming birthday this month.  But I can't show you what it is because he just may be nosey enough to read this and find out.

 

 



Anne and I made it back to Helena, checked into a hotel across the street from the airport and then went out to dinner at a wonderful restaurant called Silver Star.  We had yummy blood orange martinis, elk medallions and chicken sesame wraps.  It was a perfect ending to a perfect day and we were both ready to climb into bed and be ready to fly home early the next morning.  As much as I was loving Montana, I was missing my sweet husband so very much and could not wait to get home and share everything with him. 

 

This trip had a huge impact on me.  I knew it would probably affect me in some ways, but was not expecting all the different ways.  I will be eternally grateful to Anne for getting me to go on this trip with her.  The timing was perfect.  With the 1st anniversary of my mom's death coming up in two weeks, I try to remember the trip and how it felt knowing she was with me and remembering that whenever I need her, she is still here with me.  I play back that day last year over and over again in my head and it still seems unreal.  I look at my mom's picture that I clung too all day long on that day, and I still can't believe she is gone.  She lived her life to the fullest every single day including her very last morning.  That is what Montana reminded me to do, live each day to it's fullest.  Be present and in the moment, even if it is at work with a bunch of two year olds who are grumpy and tired and not riding horses through amazing country side.  Each moment, each day, is a gift and we never know when it is our last.  I look at the mountains that surround me with a different perspective now.  They are so beautiful yet so different than the mountains in Montana.  We have so much green and lush vegetation growing on our mountains.  I didn't look at them closely enough before, or at least once I got use to them being there.  Now every morning, I make sure when I am driving to work that I notice them and the way the sun shines on the trees and casts shadows across the valley.  I am so lucky to be living where I live.

 

I hope you have enjoyed following my trip to Montana.  I am glad I have this memoir to come back to and re-live each day I was there. 

 

Busco's Joy......The Search For My Word

Sunrise as we were walking to the Hogan for yoga.

6:45am  9-14-12

Friday,  September 14, 2012

WOMEN IN THE WILD

I have decided for the this first full day of the retreat, I will just write exactly what I jotted down in my "book" that I am never without from this day.  I will also include pictures that were taken that day and let my simple thoughts and pictures do all the talking.  This will be a short, sweet and to the point post. 

Anne asked that we have Room #7 in the main lodge.  In her opinion it was the best room, though the smallest room.  She was 100% right.  We had the best views and could see all of the comings and goings right outside of our 3 windows.

Yoga- Friday Morning 7:00
-beautiful, slightly chilly morning.  beautiful walk to the HOGAN, sun rising as we walked, stop to take pictures.

-very easy practice with hip openers and gentle stretches to prepare us for our first ride.
 

 View looking out from inside of the Hogan.

The outhouses.

Another view from inside the Hogan, looking out.

Not a bad view from any position.

 

 

-walked back to ranch and cleaned up for breakfast....oatmeal, granola & yogurt, blueberry bread,

 fresh fruit and orange juice.

 

-changed into jeans and boots for 2 hour trail ride with Sandra and Dan.  Rode a lovely horse named

 2 Dots.  Beautiful ride although much smoke was blowing over mountains for the Bob Marshall

 fires.  Took many pictures.  Cool morning with winds.  Talked with Kathi from Orange County

 about death and losing mom.  She too lost someone she was very close to and we talked about

 healing processes and letting go. 

 

 The stables.

 An old pair of boots,

retired for now.

 Horses saddled up and ready to go.

 One of our wranglers, Dan.

The hardest working 23 year old I know.

His trusty friend, Annie Oakley looking on.

 2 Dots and I ready to ride.

 Even though it was smokey, the views were amazing.

Horseback is indeed the way to see land as gorgeous as this.

 Annie Oakley taking a little break.

Nothing makes her happier than running alongside

on a trail ride.

 Anne on Sunny and our wonderful host, Sandra, in the background.

 

 

-returned from our ride at 11:30 and cleaned up for lunch...egg salad, greens, pasta salad, chips,

 cookies and lemonade.

 

-at 1:00, Tag gave us a tour of his museum and told us the story of his life and family. 

 

 The museum is made up of the one room house that Tag's grandfather bought in the 1800's.

The exact house that Tag's father was born in.

All of the objects in the museum are from the ranch and Tag's family.

Some are family items, photos, jewelry, etc.

Others are artifacts and ancient ruins that have been found

during archaeological digs on the property.

Tag Rittel.

One of the most gracious gentlemen I have ever met.

A true legend in my mind.

 

 

-Montana has proven to be everything I had thought it would be.  The beautiful open spaces, the

 glorious mountains, the quietness, the closeness to heaven and the awareness of God's beauty and

 almightyness all around.

 

-occasional episodes of tears, but feel that they are not out of sadness, but out of pure joy and the

 amazement at what my life is like at this moment and feeling the presence of my mom with me.

 

 

Friday night we celebrated Tag's 83rd birthday.  His actual birthday would be on Saturday, but do to other plans the ladies had for Saturday night, Sandra gave him his cake Friday night.  It was the most delicious Carrot Cake I have ever eaten.  During dinner, I had the opportunity to share Robby's and my dream of one day moving to Montana and continuing our desire for a self sustainable lifestyle.  My new friends were so encouraging and moved by what I had to say and really made me feel as if it was something that Robby and I would one day make happen.

 

  Setting up inside the Hogan for evening yoga before dinner.

 

 

 Never wanting to be late for a meal,

Tag and Dan waiting outside for the dinner bell to ring.

Sandra presenting her wonderful husband Tag with his birthday cake.

This one was not the Carrot cake,

but a Doughnut Cake from the

Donut Hole in Helena.

 

 Anne and I before our evening ride after dinner.

 Our trusty companions on all of our rides,

Busco in the front and Annie Oakley in the back.

Riding past the Hogan on horseback in the evening.

 

 

-our ride this evening was wonderful.  Sandra got us a little bit lost, but it was so much fun.  Steeper hills than the morning ride, a little trickier terrain, saw about 6 deer, rode back to the stables in the dark.  Perfect ending to the day followed by a glass of wine in the hot tub then off to bed, with the Montana air blowing in the windows once again.



     
One last thing.  The whole time Anne and I were out riding, walking, doing yoga, exploring, she would ask me how I was doing.  I kept telling her that I could not come up with the word that could describe exactly how at peace and happy I was.  I told her it was along the lines of the great word from one of Mary Poppins's old songs....supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, but that still wasn't even it.
I would be sure to let her know as soon as I came up with it.  But I was pretty sure it was not going to be until the end of my stay at Blacktail, that the word would come to me.