Mothers Carry Love

Dear UD,

It’s May, the month of mothers, May flowers, and graduation celebrations.

“I remember all the flowers you picked for me for Mother’s Day,” Mom said when I stayed with her last December. I remember too. I see me at 14, walking the family farm, hiking the rivers, climbing the bluffs, clutching a fistful of Missouri wildflowers. Purples, yellows, whites galore, but on I walked, searching for the rare red ones to round out the bouquet. Every year until I married and moved away, I brought Mom a handful of colorful wildflowers.

The past two summers I stayed with Mom in July, and even then, I hunted for wildflowers to bring her. Wildflowers and rocks with holes in them. I just realized that I don’t know why rocks with holes were so special to her, but she collected them so we searched for them anytime we walked or swam the rivers.

And now there’s a hole in my life because she’s gone.

I never even contemplated a Mother’s Day without Mom. Incomprehensible. Inexplicable. Inconceivable. Completely and utterly unfathomable. Unimaginable. Unbelievable.

At least not this soon. Not this quickly. Not when she was only in her sixties.

Aidan is graduating this month, and his Granny won’t be there. An empty seat that should be filled. An empty place that once was filled. That only months ago would have been filled. A generation of grandkids who will miss her, some who may not remember her. Unthinkable. Unacceptable. Unbearable.

This week is rough, UD. I’m heartbroken. All the time. Everything reminds me. Makes me sad. Everything, everything, everything.

Mom is irreplaceable. Rare. Exceptional. She is loved and missed more than words can convey.

Moms are life; they give birth to new beings. Moms are selfless; they sacrifice for their offspring. Moms are home; they offer grounding, place,

and foundation.

It’s Mother’s Day, UD, and we’re motherless. Motherless, without a mom here on this earth. Motherless—no synonyms, substitutes, replacements for mothers. Motherless for the rest of our lives. How do we go on from here? You lost your mom, Grandma Bonnie, in your thirties. How did you do it? How did Mom?

But you had each other, and we had you both. It’s so lonely without you, without Mom. I miss her voice, her fresh garden vegetables, her smile, her cooking, her advice, her adventurous spirit, her welcoming and giving service to everyone. I miss her presence here on earth, knowing I could reach out and she would be there. Knowing I had someone on my side, always. Knowing I had a place to go, no matter what.

One of the most precious lessons I learned from Mom is this—to include and welcome everyone.
Mom never met a stranger, and her home was always open for those in need. Like a mother hen collecting chicks, Mom surrounded herself with those who needed. Always, she gave, fed, welcomed. Her love carried on her hands as she gave to others. Her love carried on her heart as she shared with others. Her love carried on her prayers as she remembered everyone.

And now, UD, even though we are motherless, heartbroken, devastated, and inconsolable, we must survive, remember, and band together. Through the tears and grief, remember Dad, you, Mom. Through the pain and sorrow, remember the moments we treasure. Through the anguish and loss, remember the lessons and love from you all. Together we stand stronger. Together we welcome others. Together we carry love on our hands, hearts, and prayers.

Love, Rach

PS: Thanks to my sister Jill Adams for some of these nature photos.

Blessing Laina

Alaina Beth Johnson, daughter of Rachel, daughter of Barbara, daughter of Bonnie, daughter of Iva, and sister of Alexia Devin. Alaina Beth, you are of the Crawford - Cunningham Clans, the Johnson - Kellhofer families, and the Rineharts.

Laina, you are a daughter of the American Revolution. A daughter of the Native American Cherokee tribe. A daughter of inventors, leaders, homesteaders. You come from those who blaze their own path and those who fight for freedom, those who create and those who work the land, those who help others and those who teach, and those who heal and those who survive. Ultimately, you come from those who make things happen. 

A farm girl, beach girl, big city girl, you know how to navigate many worlds. Like the time when, barely 16, you followed me from Missouri to Florida, and then at 18, you drove alone from Florida up to the Smoky Mountains. Or when you trained as a gymnast for 25 hours a week at age ten. And, I remember when you were only 16 and we were visiting Lexi and you hopped off the subway train in New York City alone at dusk to shop and your cell phone died but you were able to find your way back to our lodging. You are fierce, fearless, resilient, and resourceful.

When I look at the headlines and statistics around this country and in this world today and see all the devastation to our planet, the dangers, and the problems that your generation faces, I cringe to think this is what we leave you.

Yes, the world might seem scary and dark sometimes, and you have already endured so much more than I wanted you to have to deal with--too much heartache, loss, and pain. At the same time, you have also already seen great kindness, compassion, and goodness from others for which I am grateful.

In the past two years alone, you have lived through four moves and too many losses, but through it all, you have stood on a strong foundation, a foundation built from the sphere of your family, friends, and ancestors, from the land that has been in our family for over one hundred years, and from God.

Through it all, you have remained pure and kind and good and light. Yes, dark and light both exist, but remember that light can chase away the dark. Shadow disappears when light shines on it.

“Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.”

James 1:12  

When you were a child, I thought that you were poetry in action, and now that you are a young woman I see a firecracker who was born during Fourth of July weekend, and I know that your heart and your creativity and your smarts and your talents will come together to do some good in this world. Sassy and full of fire, you are the light this world needs.

“Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity.” 1 Timothy 4:12  

You've got this. Whether you follow your gifts or whether you follow your intellect or your beauty or all three, continue following your heart and you will leave an impact on your community and your country and your world, an impact that you have already started and that I'm so proud to see.

What we remember most, George Saunders said in a graduation speech at Syracuse University, are acts of kindness, so the most important thing is to be kind. I don't have to tell you this because you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. If the first rule is to be kind, then you have mastered it. I see the seeds of kindness in everything you do. I think of the time when your 9^th grade teacher lost his dog and you picked out a special card, wrote in it, and gave it to him. Or when you, a stranger in a new school for your senior year, befriended the newer new girl who had nowhere to sit and knew no one. Or when you rescued the kitten, befriended the dog, wanted to take in every lost animal.

“May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.” 

Psalm 20:4 

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Laina, there are so many things I can say that I like about you. To start, you have a genuinely good spirit. You are a caring, intelligent and nurturing person who is beautiful on the inside and out. I’m so proud of you for graduating high school. This is a big transition for you into adulthood, and you will have a lot of fun and freedom that comes with it as well as responsibilities and trials. But when the challenges come, remember to use them as motivation to keep going and grow from the experience. Let each challenge help you grow and become the person that you are meant to be. I know that God has a great plan for you and that He will help you grow into the amazing woman He designed you to be. I’m so glad that you are my sister, and I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else in the world.  I love you, Laina.   Love, Lexi

Alaina: simple meanings; Little Rock, beautiful, light, torch, bright.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. For the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9  

Characteristics of Alaina:  cooperative, considerate, compassionate, nurturing, sensitive, patient, loving, kind, gracious, balanced.

I am proud to say that you are a perfect embodiment of every one of those characteristics. I pray you will stay true to them and seek God's will for your life. I pray you will continue to be the bright light that you already are in this ever-darkening world where light is so desperately needed. 

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6  

I cherish every moment I was able to spend with you last semester. I pray you will be a force for good everywhere you go. May the Lord bless you and keep you and make His face shine upon you and give you peace. Love you, Granny

“But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.” Hebrews 11:6  

Graduation is just the beginning; let the Lord reveal his plan for your life by submitting to his Lordship.  Love and prayers, Uncle Bob

“Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name. For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.” Psalm 100:3-6  

Twice-Laine, Congratulations! Remember, sometimes all you can bid is glasses. Love, Fred (Uncle Sonny’s ghost-friend).

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Alaina, you are a blessed and beloved daughter of God. You are loved, you are wanted, you are wise, you are safe, and you are strong. Your family, your friends, and those who we lost too soon are with you. For instance, Grandma Johnson is watching over you, your special angel. Wherever you are, our hearts and love are with you. Wherever we are, your heart and love are with us. Our hearts and spirit are with you always.

It has been my honor and privilege to be your mother and to see you grow into this amazing, talented, kindhearted, bright, beautiful young woman.

And so with our blessing, we send you out into the world to work, to travel, to live, to love, to laugh.

The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace.” Numbers 6:24-26  

Together, we offer you our blessing. Now, we watch you flip into the wide world waiting for you as you tumble into your future of beauty, kindness, creativity, peace, and love. Travel with God’s love, His presence, His Word, and His promises.

With all our prayers, blessing, love, and faith in you,

Your family

Corybantic Enervation*

God sidetracked by damn internet. And on Lent, too.

All those lost souls searching, crying out for help. For His strength.
40 days is forever. Hell, day one is an eternity all its own.
Ohhhh, look at that recipe for Southern Strawberry Shortcake on Pinterest. Gotta try it.
Shit. Today’s Ash Wednesday.
Day One: No sugar. No grains.
What the hell was I thinking?
No Facebook for some, but God’s updating His cover photo
while some student, “idiot” as Chris would say, texts while skateboarding on campus,
crashing into another student, a tangle of falling limbs and bodies. Bruised. Bloody.
Maybe the guardian angels are all on MySpace. Took it over when humanity abandoned it.
The teens transferred to Instagram. All image, less words, less connection, less thinking.
Sounds like my student essays minus the images, the imagination;
I wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve written “lack of depth, details, drive”
in the past few years. “I wanna be a billionaire, so freaking bad.”
Loving my new smart phone and all the cool apps.
Gross! Why the hell do people post pictures of broken bones, open wounds, swollen feet?
Maybe posting is prayer in the 21^st century. Government, God watching over us.
Never alone. Yet always lonely.
Ping. Jessica already has roast simmering in the crock pot for tonight’s meal.
Wish I’d have thought of that. Hmmm…what to cook for dinner.
Wow! Beautiful picture of the beach—blue skies, blue-green waves, roaring against sand—
definitely not like those crazy superstorm waves that obliterated buildings, land, people.

Emerson, I think we've forgotten how to

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Or perhaps it’s too dangerous now.

Franklin cautioned us against trading our liberty for security,
but he never watched an airplane fly into the twin towers—
collapsing skyscrapers, crumbling faith of a nation—
or imagined bodies dropping down 100 stories on American soil
or dreamed of mass school shootings.
Do we deserve to sacrifice both freedom and safety, Mr. Franklin?
Maybe that’s why we rush to the doctor, begging for more, pleading for pills—
pills for our sleep and for our kids, pills for our anxiety, pills for perfection or peace—
rather than fall on our knees for answers, for hope, rather than sacrifice this for that.
Another crazy gunman. My daughter’s school locked down. Third bomb threat on news this week.
I wonder if God would accept my friend request. Are you there, God? It’s me, Margaret.
The world is at my fingertips; everything only a quick touch away, and yet. And yet. And yet.
Nostalgic for a past that I don’t know, for a time I have not met—a time where food was food and chemicals were poison and books were books and options were not numerous.
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I will meet you there.” Rumi
Cyberspace is so happening. Never shuts down, never stops, always running, always, always.
Oops. Class starts in ten minutes. Gotta run.

 

Written on March 5, 2014

 

*Corybantic: frenzied; agitated; unrestrained.

*Enervation: to deprive of force or strength; destroy the vigor of; weaken. Synonyms: enfeeble, debilitate, sap, exhaust.

My Writing, My Words

          Last year around this time I was reflecting on 2011 and creating resolutions for 2012.  I resolved to exercise more consistently, and I have, starting the year off with P90X, switching to swimming laps for the summer, and ending with beach walks and Zumba.  I wanted to start my day off by taking care of myself, and on those days I exercise in the mornings, I have more energy and feel better all day.

I also decided to make writing a priority.  As a writing teacher, I want to model what I teach.  At the same time, I am inundated with other people’s words, reading literally a thousand essays or more a year.  Therefore, I decided to put my writing, my words first, writing down my thoughts, even if only for 10 to 30 minutes, in Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way morning pages journal.  As I poured out my fears and stresses, my racing ideas and emotional turmoil, I found myself lighter and more at peace for the day.

Finally, I resolved to also begin each day with God through prayer and gratitude.  I pray before I even get out of bed, and at the end of my morning pages, I write down the things I am grateful for.  “Thank you, God, for all of my blessings” is the way I begin that section.  Before I knew it, I realized that I kept getting more of whatever I thanked God for.  Thank you, God, for always being there for me.

I’m definitely not saying that I’m perfect and that I did all three of those things every day this year because I didn’t.  I should have exercised at a higher intensity level and written more and developed a more intimate relationship with God.  However, on the days I did all three of those things, I noticed that I felt better, had more energy, and experienced more of a positive outlook.  It’s the little things that matter, and it is doing the little things consistently that makes a difference and that builds up to the bigger things.

This fall, four of my essays have been published, two in print journals and two online.  I firmly believe that these publications are a consequence of doing those three things, of following through on my plans, and of placing emphasis and importance on my own words. 

"Dolphins for Christmas" appeared in Florida English, while "The Celebration" is in New Plains Review.  Then, CircaReview online just published "Of Beauty, Basements, and Butterflies" and "Magic Acts"! 

Thank you, God, for my publications. 

I will continue these three things next year and try to take them to the next level.  What 2012 resolutions worked for you this year?

Show Me the Way

Thorin is still taking medicine.  I open the antibiotic capsule, dump half of it onto a slice of deli meat, wrap it up, and feed it to him.  It’s not the same without Sam wagging his tail, waiting for his treat, and I feel a pang on my heart.

We all sit on the couch in the living room as Thorin races through the house.  Lexi sobs, “It’s not complete.  It’s wrong to just say Thorin cuz it’s Sam and Thorin. It just doesn’t make sense.  He just brings a lot more light to this place, Mom.  We’ve gotta get him back.  He’s ours.  We’ve gotta get him back.  How can this be the right thing for us when it’s putting us through this and we’re losing part of our family?  It feels empty already.  It feels empty.  Having Sam here was the closest thing to having a father here because he’s a protector.”

“What’d you say?”  I’m startled by her connection.

“Sam is a protector, like a dad.”

“Sam’s the best thing I have from my childhood,” Laina cries.  “They’re all I have left.”

Lexi continues, “Thorin’s running back and forth ‘cuz he’s anxious.  It’s literally like losing part of our family again.  Having pets was one of the only secure things we had.  With you and dad fighting and getting divorced, the only secure thing we had was our pets.  Sam makes me feel safe.”

          “It’s true; he does make you feel safe.  You know, when Sam’s there, you just feel safe,” Laina adds.

          “Whenever I’d lie down next to him, and he would put his paw on me I just felt safe in that moment.  It radiates from him.”

          “When I was lying there petting him, he was comforting me.”

          Lexi sobs, “So what does that mean, what does it mean?  Is nothing in life ever secure?  Is there nothing in my life that’s secure?  Is there nothing that can be secure besides God?  Why?  This doesn’t make sense.  I can’t breathe.”

          “I can’t breathe at all,” Laina cries.  “He makes you feel warm and loved even though he can’t say a damn thing.  He can’t say anything to us, but you know that he wants to be with you and love you. It’s cold without him.  There’s not as much life in here anymore.”

          Lexi yells at me. “Talk to us.”

          “I’m listening.  I’m letting you get it all out.”

          “I don’t know,” she says. “It’ll just take the next few days to process this.”

          “Not days,” says Laina.  “I’m never getting over it.”

          “I’m really sorry you’re hurting so much.  This is hard and it sucks and it’s not fair.  It’s okay to be sad and angry and hurt and heartbroken but know that Sam will be okay, and we’ll be okay.”  I stand.  “Come on, girls, let’s pray.”  The three of us lie on the bed, the cats around us, Thorin at our feet.  “God, I confess that we’ve been angry and we’ve been hurt and we’ve been sad.  We’ve been stressed and overwhelmed and I’ve been tense.  We’ve been impatient and I’ve even been in despair.  But, we’ve also been blessed and we’ve learned so much and we’ve been so happy and we’ve had so much fun.  We’ve loved and we’ve been so grateful for this time with the dogs.  No matter what happens, thank you for that.  Please help us with whatever’s supposed to happen.  If it’s the best thing for Sam to go to this family, then please help us accept it and heal and let him bless that family.  If it’s better for him to stay with us, then please provide a way, show us the way. Please help us.  Amen.”

          A long pause.

          Lexi sighs.  “I guess we can find a blessing.  There’s something there.  This is helping me deal with something from my childhood, so it won’t affect me as an adult.”

          The girls focus on finishing homework as quickly as possible.  They cry themselves to sleep while I toss and turn and finally sleep.