Fantastic Voyage

As I zip up my backpack to put it up for who knows how long, I wonder where I will carry it next.  It is a little sad to come home from a long awaited adventure and not know what will happen around the corner.  I think it is important to have something to look forward to no matter how big or small.  
I was pretty nervous about this "Trip of a Lifetime".  When I hear that phrase, it usually means that I will have experiences out of my control and out of my comfort zone.  Both of which happened on this trip.   
 Here were my fears not in any particular order:
1. Would  I come face to face with a bear or a mountain lion? 
2. Would I be constantly cold?  
3. Would I be able to keep up with the younger folks on the trip?
4. Would I be able to paddle for five days in a row with tendonitis in my right shoulder? 
5. Would I be able to poop?
6. Could I manage to sleep on the ground for a week without being sleep deprived?
7. Would there be anybody on the trip that I would enjoy being with?
I had to ask myself if I would let these fears trump the one-of-a-kind beautiful experience that I was blessed with and sharing with my soul mate. (who had absolutely none of my trepidation)
So I got ready:
I prepared for the trip the best I could by researching and listening to Kathy who had done it before. (Thank you, thank you!) I unpacked two extra pairs of shorts so I would have room for my pillow. I packed lots of layers realizing I could stuff things into my dry bag as the day warmed up. I rode my bike an hour a day 5 days a week and walked as much as possible. I bought a Tilley hat and lots of sunscreen. The rest was not in my control.  
So on day one the beauty and the magnificence of the Middle Fork of the Salmon River and the expertise of the guides dissolved any creature discomfort I might have whined about. The astounding beauty of the Frank Church Wilderness was incredible. I learned about the families rafting with us--they all had a life story. I learned about the land and the homesteaders who loved it and lived on it, the hermit, Earl Parott, who lived on the river in almost total seclusion, the Native Americans who called the Middle Fork their home, the waterfalls of the Impassable Canyon. We came to hot springs along the trip just when the weather was turning chilly. But not everything was perfect and not everything was comfortable. It was not supposed to be.   
 And I realized that the only way to be fully in the moment of that wilderness was to forget about all the things that would keep me from the joy of that moment. I did return from the "River of no Return" wanting to go on another adventure.  A fantastic voyage-much like life.  

My America, The Beautiful

 I decided to take a departure from the every day political craziness all around us and put together a collection of photos from places I have been and of people I love. Choosing pictures from my thousands left me happy and appreciative. I bet you have a gazillion pictures too. I am so grateful to live here. We have a lot to be thankful for. Thank you, Katharine Lee Bates.                                                                  

O beautiful for spacious skies

For amber waves of grain

For purple mountain majesties

Above the fruited plain!

America! 

America!

God shed His grace on thee,

 

   

And crown thy good with brotherhood

From sea to shining sea!

I Know You Don't Mean To

I have been told that I am blunt and to the point. And I have probably offended people along the way with my opinions. I am mortified and sorry when I find out I have hurt someone's feelings because I would never intend to hurt anybody. In this instance, though, I realize I might make you feel bad,so If what I am about to say resonates with you, I hope you will take it as constructive, because I know you don't mean to hurt anyone either.  Here goes:

Recently, Clark and I attended a funeral of a family friend.  Several of our college buddies were there-some of whom we hadn't seen in a long time. In our conversations, we usually get around to the fact that Clark and I dated in college, married other people, divorced our original spouses and then found each other again.  It is a sweet story, one that I am grateful for, and one that everybody seems happy about and believe me--I am super happy about-- but it doesn't stop there.  

So many times we hear the well meaning, "Oh, your lives worked out for the BEST! Everybody involved is with the right person and you have to admit that everybody is so much better off now. Your former spouses did you a favor!" And I am thinking to myself that everybody is not really better off now---just different. In our case, we were able to create beauty from ashes but the way our lives would have worked out for the best would have been a strong and true marriage the first time around. Divorce is complicated and there are definitely trickle down consequences. Besides being overwhelming in so many different ways for me, the kids, of course, were impacted. It was difficult for my girls to give up their family home and visit me in a new city for holidays. It's also hard to know how kids feel when a parent abandons them emotionally and/or physically and how it manifests in lots of different ways. I could go on and on with the downside of divorce and I am sure you know the laundry list of negatives. I don't think when you tell us that we as a couple are much better off you are wanting to engage in a debate on the pros and cons of splitting up. You are just trying to make it make sense somehow. But that's really not necessary. We have worked through it privately and I can tell you that now, today, I am neither bitter nor unforgiving. But that is not for a casual conversation. And I want to give you a heads up so that you do not continue to say these things to other people in similar situations.  It's rather like the comment to a person who just lost a close family member to death and gets the comment from a well meaning friend that they are "in a better place". I am sure the better place for the person still living would be right next to them. Alive and healthy. 

Back to the funeral conversation--what we did is we smiled weakly and agreed with the friends who told us this, because we knew they really meant well, and maybe they wanted to make themselves feel better or they thought they were giving us a compliment. Or maybe they don't want to think ill of the other folks involved so this is their way of rationalizing bad behavior. I just wish people would not put us on the spot to agree to something that we don't believe. We are not going to argue the point at a funeral or a wedding or any other public forum that would be inappropriate for that kind of reckoning. I know you don't mean to, but you are making us feel awkward. Unless you have gone through a divorce yourself, you could not understand that there is nothing superlative about a failed marriage. ... even if the later outcome is a wonderful new spouse. You are diminishing the loss we experienced and the emotional trauma that we felt when you imply that we should thank our original spouses for leaving the marriage. Please don't make me say nice things about my ex because you need to hear it.  We have cordial relationships with our ex spouses and we have moved on. But what if we didn't? Everybody's personal journey is theirs.  

  What we want you to say is:  " Glad you are together"  or  " You really look happy" or "So happy for you". But stop there!  We don't want to admit to something that's just not true, So, please, try not to put words in our mouths, and we promise not to talk about you on the way home.  

What I have in common with HRC

I really don't love Hillary, but I also think that she is unfairly judged on a number of 
issues. One in particular is that if she stayed married to Bill with his cheating ways, then she must condone that behavior.  
I have heard from people that because she stayed with Bill, she therefore "stood by her man" which in a lot of people's minds is a strike against her and women's rights.  I tend to think that it is a woman's right to decide whether it is best for her and her family to stay and try to work things out. It is tough either way when you have been betrayed, especially in the public forum. I was a child of a father who cheated, and then I went and married someone who did the same thing.  In my father's case, I scolded him (I was 14) and the outcome was that he quit speaking to me and his mother (my grandmother) disowned me, and I did not see her side of the family until after her death. Most people don't know that about my dad because he rarely let on that there was a problem. We worked things out later, but I was trying so hard in my own marriage to make things work and regain trust because I knew first hand what the ramifications are for the kids as well as the parents and grandparents in a split-up. When my ex first ran around on me, I was but 33. I did not want to give up on my family for dozens and dozens of reasons.  And those reasons are different for everyone. And he appeared to want to stay, so we tried---and 14 years later he did it again ( with some sprinkled in between probably) and tried to mask his adultery with his spending problems, but we were done because I knew. I knew because the same behavior patterns surfaced. I did not think our marriage was worth fighting for by myself. I was older, and wiser and the kids were older and even though I knew it was going to be tough (and it was) I was through being married to a cheater and the emotional drama de jour.   
Maybe Hillary and Bill love each other and they've worked through it. Maybe they have a system that works, or maybe they will split up sometime in the future. But knowing what I know from a child's standpoint and a wife's standpoint who has gone through a betrayal of the worst kind, "standing by your man" is not what I would call it. It's something we are called to do---forgiveness. And maybe it worked for them.  

I Didn't Know, I Just Didn't Know

My grandmother used to say that. And I'm feeling it right now. I didn't know how hard Christmas would be this year. My mama is in the grocery store in the stacks of canned tart cherries, she's in the fudge I will make tomorrow, and she's in Walgreens in the candy and gum aisle. And then there's my dad who I could  knock things around with.  And he's no longer a phone call away. I know having parents into their 90s is a blessing, but I just miss them. And I suspect that the other big losses I had this year in two close friends dying and the loss of sweet Ellie have compounded my somber attitude. And then there's other stuff that is just too pitiful to mention. Heck, yeah, I have a million things to be thankful for.  And my kids and grandkids are the best. Then there's Clark who is really special.  But I can still be a little bummed out at this time of year, right? And did I mention that I miss mom? When Hattie was with us two weeks ago, we talked about her "Mamaw".  She said, " Mimi, heaven is far far away."  Yes it is, Hattie. Yes it is.  

"And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been
poured out within our hearts through the Holy spirit who was given to us"
Romans 5:5

One of a Kind

Ellie, you're killing me.Your first road trip with us when we picked you up from your foster family was a foreshadow of life with you, our new baby. You never poked your head out of the window like other dogs. You were two years old. What Golden Retriever doesn't like the wind in her face? You stayed in the floorboard from Chattanooga to Montgomery. And you made the car smelly all the way home.  
You wouldn't get near us when we brought you home but stayed in our closet only to come out when we coaxed you with pieces of steak we kept in our pockets. When our neighbors came to welcome you to the street, you were not in the greeting mood. 
You would run off when you could and when we called you, you would look over your shoulder and keep going with that over the top donkey kick of yours. 
 You refused to get into your crate no matter what kind of food we threw in there.  You even convinced me to get in there first to show you it wasn't so bad, but you didn't hold up your end of the bargain. I ended up giving it to our neighbors whose dog knew how to follow commands. 
 I had to literally drag you into obedience school because you would not get out of the car.  We had to have help to get you in the door every time. You did not enjoy school like the other dogs seemed to. But we finished the course and you were at the top of the class. Your only break was when a man with a booming voice interrupted our final exam.  All of our practice paid off even though you didn't seem to want to go like the other dogs. 
When Jetta and Ford would come to get you for a walk with their mom, Kathy, you would run off with them and not pay attention when we pleaded with you to come home.   We hunted you down in the country more times than I can count. You didn't come when Clark whistled or called like the other two dogs.  
You were a Golden Retriever!!  But you would slink into the other room if we threw a ball. You refused to fetch a ball even when I put it in my mouth to show you how retrieving works. And when we went to the huge dog park at Shelby Farms, you would not go in the water after a stick. You would wallow like crazy in the hot and sticky mud on the edge of the lake until you got ear fungus from all the gook in your ears.  You never learned to swim like the other dogs. You just sat on the edge and watched the others frolicking in the water.  
After your first year with us, you began to approach people with a waggy tail and you followed me around like a shadow attached to my heels.You busted into the bathroom while I sat on the toilet. You would peek into the closet to make sure I was in there when I was getting dressed. You alarmed us of oncoming storms long before they arrived by helping yourself to our shower floor. You loved your walks, chasing squirrels, and wallowing---always the wallowing.  Every few feet you would throw yourself onto the ground, kick your feet skyward, and begin to writhe on the grass. I would tell you to wait and hold the leash tight so that you wouldn't wallow in the dirt before we made it to a better place to scratch your back.  Our walks were not like the other dogs'. 
And you know what?  I loved that you were not like other dogs. You made our lives interesting and funny and memorable.  I would not have traded you for any of the other dogs that were predictable and obedient and compliant.  I will always  remember your sweet disposition, your quiet demeanor, your stubborn streak, and your constant attentiveness to me, down to your kisses for me this morning. You were not like the other dogs.  You were perfect.  

The Deepest Privilege

My cute little mama passed away at 91 earlier this week.  And I am crushed. She was not really ill until a week or two before her death, but I could see it coming.  She was tired and lonely and when she would forget an event, a visit with someone or talking with someone on the phone, of course it made her sad. My Mama was a "doer".  I don't think I have ever known anyone who was in constant motion like her. She was a pioneer of multitasking. And when she could no longer "do", she felt like she had no purpose. And it was impossible to pretend with her.  She was on to you in a minute. So I began in the last months to make my visits at the assisted living longer. I spent most afternoons just hanging out and talking.  We discussed everything from mothers-in-law and ex-husbands ( we had that in common) to her days during the Depression.  She would always tell me at the end of the visit how appreciative she was of the time I had spent with her and say her usual " thank you thank you thank you I love you love you love you." She would say she knew I had things to do rather than visit her, and she would thank me over and over---and want to buy me something or do something for me. I bet I will be the same way with my girls if I am ever in that position. You just want to do something and you no longer have the means. And it hurt me to watch. 
My mom was a cute little clown. She would kick up her legs, dance a jig and stop and pat the other residents when we would walk down the hall to get her mail or to go to an activity. The staff loved being around her because she was feisty and complimentary. She was fun to be around . You never knew what she was going to come out with or ask, so sometimes she would catch you off guard or even create an awkward moment.    
When I was a child, I thought she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.  She had a flair for fashion and knew how to rock those 50s clothes. I would beg her to let me brush her hair in the evenings, just wanting to get at those silky dark curls. Surely she knew how cute she was.  
And she was also one of the most complicated and frustrating people I have ever known.  She had an unpredictable temper and at the same time was a champion for the underdog. I have gotten phone calls, emails and texts from people she had touched by her just listening to them during a hard time. She had such a mixture of sweetness and vinegar. She loved to do things for everybody putting herself last most of the time. She was a longtime caregiver to her husband for eight years, and also nursed her mother and father, her aunt, and her mother-in-law. She loved attention but shunned it at times.  She was cooperative unless she thought you were not on her side..... then she became impossible. And you just had to keep reassuring her that she was OK just like she was.  
  He strong will served her well most of the time and those of us watching would sometimes just shake our heads, because things were going to be done her way.  Sometimes her strong will was not working for her and intervention was necessary. Then there was trouble. But there was usually a way around her---it just took creativity!
One of my sweetest memories will be when she was in the hospital about three weeks ago and was about to be discharged. This just sums up the kind of impact my mom had on people. We opened the shade to the window in the hall and she would wave and speak to every single person who walked down the hall. When it was time to leave, the nurses came in and told us how they were going to miss her after a week's visit....that she was so much fun and such a joy to treat.  Even the lady who cleaned the room came back to give her a hug.  And my Mama's standard reply was "Bless your heart, honey...bless your heart." 
I will not have the same life I have been leading now that she is gone. These last events were life changing.  I will have more time for myself--something she was always worried about but something that I was fine to give up. She was in my every day. And I was in her leaving this world. She was strong and feisty even in the end.  I told her not to hang on for me but when she was ready she should go.  I didn't want her to continue to struggle because she was worried about leaving me--something she had told me lots of times before. The room was quiet and dark--just the way she liked it--I told her I loved her and she told me she loved me.  
And a few minutes later she was gone. Even though I knew she was dying I was still shocked in a way. Death is hard to acknowledge even when it is right smack in front of you and you know it is coming.  But being there in such a personal moment is worth that terrible final realization of what just happened.  Because loving your mother to the end is the deepest privilege of all.

                                          Loving her granddaughters