Celebration of Life

Our Mother has passed, we will mourn her absence, but mostly, we will celebrate her life.  Our Mother lived strong, wild, ferocious, bodacious.  She lived with faith, and joy, and strength.

She left us much, her joy of flowers, her affinity for sunshine, fresh air, natural living.  We will, all of her eight children, numerous grand children and even more countless great grandchildren remember her daily.

Countless gestures; we find our hand placed over our forehead, shading our eyes with exasperation.  hear ourselves with small phrases, “For goodness sakes.”  “Good Grief”.  sound like her, we hear her with our own words.

We enjoy chickens, well, some of us.  Fresh eggs, apples, bananas.  I never could get the hang of Rocky Mountain Oysters and frog legs but I think some of us have.

We have countless house plants, knick knacks, and candles scattered about our homes.  Just like our mother.

We have a a stubborn determination to live and survive, our Mother taught that to us as well.  She lived greatly.

We will miss her, and we will celebrate her always.


   My friend from high school, Irene is a major proponent of memories, Irene was the most awesome girl I knew back then, she introduced me to LIFE.  She did things, knew people, and although she had her own problems, she continued to grow and live.  I missed Irene, and am so happy to have her back in my life through the medium of social networking. Reading her posts, looking at her pictures, I understand the full, active , and most important honored life she has lived.

I am part of a facebook page, postings of memories from people from my home town.  Reading them, I have an opportunity to remember my own past and in that way, reconnect with the little girl that left home in a head long rush towards freedom.  I love having the memories. Mine have not been so complete.  Memories can heal. After over four decades of forgetting, it is wonderful to begin to regain them.

Here are a few of my own;

The town square and stuffing myself on watermelon during watermelon days. and the best carnival a child ever did attend.

An easter egg hunt downtown, I won a silver dollar in a pink plastic box from Doctor Byram’s office.

My more than pitiable attempt at archery down by the old elementary, ( also remember a bad experiment with copper tone that day)

Comic books bought at the 5 and dime.

An equally pitiable attempt at golf in high school, I have never understood while we hit the balls toward the windows, did Ms Ahrens just know we would all miss?

Stumbling going up the steps during graduation and Bruce Robinson telling me I would be fine, (forever grateful for that  Bruce)

Walking miles on country roads

Canoeing at Hanon Lake.

Eating at the maid rite, french fries, cherry coke, and ketchup

My first pack of cigs at Old Style Tavern I was 12, they cost 20cents                         

Riding the square and honking horns

Just some memories….Love memories!

A tribute to Sweet Annie

Sweet sweet Annie

of many faces.


earth-mother, gypsy.

Gardener, provider.


Sweet sweet Annie

Kind of heart,

fair of face.

She does not see

What I see.

Sweet sweet Annie


Savior to critters.

She does not see

what we see.

Sweet sweet Annie

Beauty. Lover.



You should see from these eyes.


The world lost yet another talented spirit at the age of 27.  Amy Winehouse found dead in her apartment from unknown causes.  I will miss her amazing talent and mourn her loss!  Rest in the peace you deserve Amy!

My Grandma Schumacher

In the summers I stayed at my Grandma’s and Grampa’s home  (my father’s parents) for a week with my female cousins.  Honestly, for the most part I hated it, except for a few things.  I was homesick, and more than likely a little snot, and Grandma responded in kind with impatience.  My hair snarled and she cranked at my tears when she combed it.  Did not know my cousins well, never did get to know them.

Here is what I did like…

She had a wonderful wrap around screened in porch on her house and a spiked wrought iron fence around her yard.

My grandpa’s lap

the lonely yet exotic sound of the trains going past at night, while I sat by the window.

My dreams of flying high in the air, and looking at the world below.

And one time, one time only, Grandma unbending, sitting in her rocker, singing.

My best memories are the ones I keep.

Cheri is cherishable

I cherish you my sister Cheri, although I never let you know.

You are the woman who helped to raise me, you moved through life, guiding me, tending to my needs, loving me, with little or no feedback or appreciation given.

When I was a little girl, I believed you  the most beautiful and elegant and successful woman in creation.  I still do, although, I think, being you that you would scoff at such an assessment.

You left home when I was still so young, 17 years to my seven, married to Clyde, and bore him two sons, who in turn presented you with grandchildren of your own.  Clyde was, in my small opinion, a piece of work.  He treated you poorly, not at all up to the standards you deserved.  And I consider you successful, simply because you persevered, and Cheri, you never say a bad word about him.  Myself, I have not that type of forbearance. 

And you married John, who helped you raise you boys, who again, you say nothing but good about…when did you learn to be so very forgiving and kind?

You lived through poverty, money, moving, break ups, happiness, sadness, and always…even when you were pretty much all alone out in Colorado, you survived.  Quietly, struggling, living on your own, taking care of you own wonderful self.

You gave up your life there to return home to help our sister Linda while she was passing from cancer.  You work hard, without stop at jobs that would give a weaker woman pause.  And you did those jobs well and faithfully.

You are funny, kind, and have many strong opinions.  I admire that about you.  You  cut through nonsense, and get right to the point of the conversation.

You love animals, and care for your dog with joy, he in turn is devoted to you.  You have our mother’s love of plants, and I remember  gladioli you would buy from the farmers market to place in your home.

Your boys, raised by you, are amazing.  They are both successful and determined men.  They have themselves created loving families that they care for.  They were raised  patriotic, intense and talented.  Congratulations.

As with all of my siblings, I see you seldom, not as much as I could.  But know this, I love you.

remembering youth

It\’s a wild world

Came across this song, an anthem from my youth.  Have to love remembering being young and wild!!!

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Tilly Evan Jones

“I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable and beautiful and afraid of nothing as though I had wings.” ~Mary Oliver

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