Saddness

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!!!

To my Mother

I love you my Mother, the woman who bore me, the woman who endured so very much to raise me and all of  your children.  You have  never been  a victim of your life, you are a survivor.  You are the greatest freedom fighter, a woman who raised yourself  high, amidst a rather chaotic background, who made mistakes, and prospered, who did right things, and lived.  I salute you.

You are the woman, who, I realize are the core of me, the backbone that has moved me through my chaos, although until today I have never voiced this knowledge to you.  Our own relationship was somehow diminished early in my life, through no fault of yours, but rather through the sadness and anger  of external life.  Our distance became an unhappy habit.

I love your spirit Mom, your strength, your toughness, and your truth of life.  This is something you need to know this day.  You are a landmark in my life; the woman with the fierce history, the woman who walked through fire to protect her own, lived through pain, loved her babies with an intense heart.  You are the woman who touched a growing plant and made it blossom with beauty. 

You made it through not only one, but four husbands, now that is enough to make any woman give up.  Good grief!  Four men to raise!  And still you moved forward. You raised eight babies into I think pretty amazing people.  You had to, sadly, see one go, our Linda.  You lived through war, poverty, the harsh environment of that little farm in Iowa, cold winters, broken bones, back-breaking work, the strong rarity of a difficult every day existence.  Yet, you created beauty for us all and your self in the best way you could.  We always had flowers growing, and remember that wonderful peach tree you sheltered so faithfully out by the milk house door, the one that you nursed through many winters?   Mom, you are tenacious, stubborn and determined.  You are a scraper, a fighter, an artist, and a love;  all rolled into one.

I inherited my love of the sunshine from you, my love of the earth, my love of a good time, and perhaps my obstinate personality.  I inherited my red hair, my blue eyes, my nose, my hands, my sometimes faithful adherence to putting my foot forward every day… all from you.

I see large beauty in small items;  this I learned from you, the woman who could take cockle burrs to turn into works of art, the woman who taught me how to iron leaves between sheets of waxed paper to frame on the wall, to bake a roast beef, fry a chicken, tried to teach me how to sew, but rightfully gave up on that one.

You taught me how to bowl, to tie my shoes, clean a house, read a book.  I inherited a quest for knowledge from you, the want to understand what is happening around me.

You are a human goddess, full of the vagaries of both divine and human spirit.

You, our Mother,  have made a full and intense life, you have sung beautiful songs, raised recalcitrant children, birthed cows, planted fields, created beauty.  You are the woman of the moment, woman of the world

Bless you Mother with love.

Picture this…

Yes, I have always been a cowgirl.

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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

Lost Creek

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