Larada Horner-Miller's Blog, page 44

A Celebration of Marshall Flippo

[image error]Today, November 26, 2018 loved ones gathered at Elliott-Hamil Funeral Home in Abilene, Texas to celebrate the life of Marshall Flippo, and what a celebration it was!

Lin and I arrived at the funeral home forty-five minutes early, and the reception area already overflowed with callers and dancer friends. We greeted dear friends from all over the country who had come to honor a true legend. We were ushered into the chapel early. The majority of the people present were professional callers from all over the United State–the cream of the crop for sure. We continued greeting each other with hugs and subdued smiles.

I looked for Mary Sheehan Johnson, a dear friend of Flip’s who took him to Asilomar in April for his last visit. Asilomar was his favorite festival in his career with its beautiful beach side setting and the organization of Bob and Becky Osgood. We found each other and felt like we were old friends–our common denominator–Flippo.

Kayla Jones began the service with beautiful soft music. Reverent David Hargrove officially opened the service with a warm greeting, Flippo’s obituary and a prayer.

Then Jon, Deborah, Vernon and Kayla Jones sang a beloved hymn, “The Old Rugged Cross.” With the majority of attendees being callers and singers, many joined in the singing. What a beautiful start!

Gary Shoemake gave the first eulogy with heartfelt stories. His longtime friendship with Flippo shined through his words and tears. We laughed and cried in response to his stories. I cried with my dear friend and his raw emotion. Afterwards, we recited the familiar Twenty-Third Psalm.

Wade Driver, Mike Seastrom, and Gary Shoemake sang, “Amazing Grace,” another beautiful hymn that many in the audience sang. What a delight to have of these callers sing!

Melton Luttrell, Flippo’s long-time best friend, did a second eulogy with stories of Flippo’s early years. Melton’s deep love for Flippo grabbed my heart–they were best friends for decades. Then Reverend Hargrove shared several Scripture verses and a message of hope, personalized with Flippo stories–many that highlighted the precious father-son relationship that Flippo had with his dear son, John. He ended this part with us saying The Lord’s Prayer.

Ken Bower, Tony Oxendine, and Melton Luttrell sang the last song of the service, “Just A Closer Walk with Thee,” another song that made me cry. I loved hearing all of Flip’s dear friends give tribute to him through music and song.

Stan Jeffus shared a beautiful video presentation honoring “Precious Memories” of Flippo that had us laughing one minute and crying the next. Stan had Flippo’s songs playing in the background with photos of Flippo with so many friends through the years. The highlight were videos of many of the skits that Flippo was famous for: The Boxer and “I Don’t Look Good Naked Anymore.” Again we laughed and cried.

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Flippo Doing The Boxer Skit

Reverend Hargrove ended the service with the Benediction, then we drove to the Wagon Wheel Hall, a square dance hall that Flippo and Neeca helped build many years ago. The Abilene Square/Round Dancers provided a delicious dinner.

Then friends spent a couple hours telling Flippo stories–full of love and admiration for Flip and lots of humor. Jon Jones started the sharing with playing Flippo’s first recorded song, “The Auctioneer” and a square tried to dance it but had trouble with the figures because we don’t do some of them in square dancing anymore. Jay Henderson played Jerry Story’s tribute to the three legends in square dancing that died in the last month: Frank Lane, Marshall Flippo and Lee Kopman. Lin and I danced that time and it was so precious.

The end came–people lingered. Stories continue out the door. It was hard to leave this festive day. To me, this was the best celebration of someone’s life I’ve ever been to–lots of stories, laughter and tears about a man we all loved dearly. John and Shelly and Neeca–you did a great job in honoring Flip. I will never forget this day!

 

 

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How Does Gratitude Work?

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Thanksgiving, 2018 has come and gone. Gratitude takes center stage on this holiday. People recite their gratitude list that day–post cute animations and beautiful memes on Facebook and then what?

Could year long gratitude change our world? Where’s the power in gratitude?

We all know people who are negative, focus on what’s bad and are complete “downers” to be around. They have no understanding of gratitude because a dark cloud hangs over their lives–everything is wrong. Then there are those whose world view is positive, see the silver lining in everything, and I want to be with them. They see life as an opportunity, a joy to live. What makes the difference?

I think the practice of gratitude does. If we only knew the deep workings inside of everyone we see. Each person I pass today is battling something–disease, relationship or work issues, and/or spiritual unrest–but this attitude of gratitude makes the difference. I know peaceful warriors with gigantic loss and pain overflowing with gratitude, so I’m convinced it’s not what happens to someone–it’s something else.

Gratitude grows out of a heart and soul that has a deep connection with a Higher Power–Something or Someone more powerful and more loving than my finite self. In that connection, the negativity and darkness that consumed me changes, dilutes, and evaporates in the presence and power of eternal Optimism.

Yes, I do believe that gratitude can change my world. The moment I turn to my God through a beautiful desert sunset, a belly laugh at a child’s innocence or a dance in my husband’s arms, the world is right and gratitude oozes out of every pore of my being.

Gratitude heals all those deep hurts in my wounded heart: I’m so thankful for the times with my Mom and Dad over the years, my monthly visits with my Aunt Willie and her precious dry sense of humor, and my weekly phone call visits with Marshall Flippo this last year. All of these are losses for sure, but my gratitude for the richness each brought into my life moves me beyond the hurt to the healing.

Make a daily gratitude list this year and see how your year goes. Get back to me next Thanksgiving and we will compare the results. Here’s to a grateful year!

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For what are you grateful? I’d love to hear your gratitude list.

Visit my web site for information about my books: https://www.laradasbooks.com

Cyber Monday Specials at my Etsy Shop:  Larada’s Reading Loft

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A Bird in Our House–What To Do?

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What kind of bird was it? We had no idea, but the poor creature flew down inside our wood burning stove’s pipe that’s about fifteen feet long and twittered for help, “Get me out of here!”

This has happened before, so we knew we had an unsolvable task before us. We thought about it for a couple days–my husband feared in our trying to rescue the bird, he would escape in the house and then the problem just got bigger.

Each morning, our visitor’s chirping from the stove reminded us of our visitor. My cat didn’t seem to notice him in the stove.

So Lin formed a plan. Carefully he lifted the top lid off the wood burning stove and partially slid a paper bag across the opening to minimize the size of space we needed to negotiate. He did that quite easily.

Then he positioned a large plastic bag over the top of the stove and opened the top. I moved the paper bag over more to restrict the area of escape–the bird did nothing. We both thought he’d fly towards the opening and the light, but he didn’t. He fluttered a little then nothing.

So I kicked the front of the stove and screamed and hollered–he moved, he fluttered his wings but that was it. I repeated the noise; he did nothing. What now? He had been captive for two to three days–was he weak? Near death? He must be because he was doing nothing to save himself.

Plan B went into affect. Lin put on heavy gloves he uses around the stove and opened the top of the stove completely to grab the captive bird. Easily and quickly, he escaped Lin and flew out, so our problem exploded. What now?

We have 25 foot high ceilings in the living room so getting to the bird was impossible. Lin opened the front door of the house and used a bird app to lure the free bird outside, but he perched himself up on a window looking outside and chirping for help. He could see where he wanted to be and fixated on it and ignored anything we did.

I grabbed a stick to poke at him, but I’m too short. Lin could reach him, but the prodding didn’t work. The crisp November air quickly cooled the room down, so we had to close the door. I called a friend I thought might help, but she had no suggestions.

We left the bird alone after some more coercing. He spent the night free in our house–roosting somewhere in the house during the night, quiet and peaceful.

The next morning we woke up to him chirping again. We left the bird alone for a while, but he moved up to our loft area and the ceiling is about seven to eight foot high–much easier access. He was fluttering around the windows there, seeing the outside where he wanted to be, so I grabbed a hat and moved closer to him. Slowly I inched closer, and he got flustered zooming back and forth between two pictures on a window sill. I threw my hat on top of him and grabbed him gently.

Surprisingly he didn’t try to fly away; he just laid in the hat with my hand over him. I opened our bedroom door, asked Lin to open the door outside, and I set him free!

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What an experience and what lessons for sure! How many times have I behaved like that little bird–after being freed from something that felt like a prison, looked out at my surroundings with blinders and knew I wanted what was out there–whatever “out there” was!

Often, in the past, I have ignored the help extended to me by family and friends and kept my eyes focussed my “salvation” out there! 

I also have identified with how the bird was rescued. Someone persistently crowded in on me slowly, threw me a life line and saved me–from myself!

How Do You Mourn the Loss of A Loved One?

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Grief is a topic that many people turn their backs on–I challenge you to answer the question because I will!

My Aunt Willie Urbanoski died on Friday, October 12, 2018, and because of family circumstances, we didn’t have her memorial service until yesterday, November 10. We did have a private family burial on Thursday, October 18, 2018.

Yesterday, the service was full of stories, pictures, laughter and tears–a real celebration of a woman who lived to be 98 years old–almost 99 because her birthday was Wednesday, November 7.

A second cousin stationed in England couldn’t attend to service, so her sisters did a live feed to her, so she and her husband could attend virtually–a 21st century way to handle loss.

How do YOU mourn the dead? For family? For friends? We all do it differently. My Mom’s sage advice: do it your way. I have a strong need to attend the memorial, view the body and get closure to the relationship. My best friend, Candy, died in 2012, and I was sick and couldn’t attend her service, and I have regretted it for years–no closure for me.

I wrote my aunt a poem for Christmas, 2012, and a week after my Mom died in March, 2013, Aunt Willie asked me if I would read that poem at her funeral. I said I would, but I’d cry all the way through it. She said she didn’t care because she wouldn’t be there!

So yesterday, I mustered my strength and read it–I got almost to the end before the tears came. Here’s the poem–I hope you enjoy it!

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Presenting My Poem–Some Humor for Sure

My Aunt Wee Wee

By: Larada Horner-Miller

December 25, 2012

Revised: November 9, 2018

 

You will always be Aunt Wee Wee!

As a child, Bub couldn’t pronounce “Aunt Willie,” so it came out

“Aunt Wee Wee,” and it stuck.

As I look back through my life,

You have always been there,

Aunt Wee Wee!

When I became an Aunt,

I followed your lead!

I wanted to touch my

nieces and nephews’ lives

the way you touched mine!

I have valued all the wonderful times

we spent together over the years.

You grace so many

of my memories!

As a toddler

I can remember

when I looked into your eyes, I saw a playful sparkle

saying,

“Yeah, Larada,

I love you!”

In my childhood,

at Branson dances,

I remember watching

you and Uncle Hughie dance,

and the fun you had.

I remember 4th of July picnics and fireworks

Bub and I couldn’t wait until you arrived with Black Cats!

You came all the way from Albuquerque!

As a family, we went to Albuquerque.

You shared your beautifully decorated cakes.

We went on shopping sprees to the mall.

Delicious Thanksgiving dinners shared!

 

Our fishing trips

Our time together at Springer lake

You sat religiously by the lake, pole in hand.

While Uncle Hughie and I set up our poles

and roamed!

My week stay with you in Albuquerque-

A visit to Old Town

The Tram and dinner on the top! I felt like a princess!

As a young adult

You attended all of my major life events:

My 8th grade graduation

Princess at the TSJC tournament

My high school graduation

My TSJC graduation

We’ve continued that

precious relationship into my adulthood.

My weddings

You attended my first 2 weddings.

No one attended the third.

Lin and I knew you were with us in spirit at ours.

As our second anniversary approached, Aunt Willie repeated often,

WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?

Yes, Lin and I celebrated our second anniversary

with you in Pueblo— pictures, cake, laughter and love abounded.

I had several special visits while you

were in Logan, UT and now in Pueblo.

 

 

Some people I’ve known for a short time

and they only know me one dimensionally.

You have known me forever, and you know the many

sides of me.

You smile, and

you make me smile.

You know all about me,

and you make me feel good

about being me.

You love to laugh and enjoy life.

Often you catch me by surprise

with your witty humor, and we share a belly laugh.

In that laughter

I am no longer 59; You are no longer 93.

We are young again, frolicking on the floor.

My Aunt Wee Wee!

That’s the power you have always had–to make me smile

To make me laugh and

To make me feel good about myself!

What a gift!

I haven’t called you

“Aunt Wee Wee” for years,

but you always will be — my Aunt Wee Wee!

 

Copyright © 2018 Larada Horner-Miller

How do you mourn the loss of a family member? A friend? I’d love to see your comments. Remember–there’s no right or wrong way to do it!

Visit my web site:  https://www.laradasbooks.com

Visit my Etsy Shop for holiday specials: Larada’s Reading Loft

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Do You Love An Adventure?

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I love any kind of an adventure, but travel adventures and a great road trip are my specialty; however, I was a little apprehensive about this trip because I have some eye problems going on right now, and I worried about it–for weeks. As so often happens, my worries were unwarranted and I had a delightful trip.

My day started with a flight out of the Albuquerque airport at Thursday morning at 6:20 am heading to Walla Walla, Washington. Lin doesn’t like leaving as early as I do. I stepped up to my place in line at the gate just as the Southwest attendant called our group–whew!! My flight west veered off via Denver, Colorado with a short turn-around time. We arrived in Denver early so I arrived at the gate with plenty of time.

Often on flights, I have no conversation with the people near me. On this flight I worked on my Keynote presentation (Apple’s version of PowerPoint), and the woman seated at the window asked if I was a writer–she had read my presentation over my shoulder.

“Yes, I’m doing a presentation at a writer’s conference.”

“My nine year old daughter told me this week she wants to be a writer.”

I encouraged her and told her about some writing apps–a future writer. Those are the kinds of airplane conversation I enjoy.

When I arrived in Seattle, Washington, I had to jockey three bags on the shuttle to get the rental car–one of them transformed into a backpack, so that helped.

Getting the car was the easy part! These new fangled cars stumped me because I regularly drive a 2004 Saturn. To start, I couldn’t get the trunk open to put my suitcases away, but an attendant helped me with a smile. I could start it, but the GPS wouldn’t load because I was in a parking garage. I had to leave the garage and park somewhere to load the maps and away I went.

Now I had a four and one half hour drive to Walla Walla. My goal was to get out of the congestion of Seattle before I stopped. With a dry mouth and my stomach rumbling, I stopped at Snowqualmie resort area for water and a Lunchable. I sat in the parking lot of the gas station and ate, and away I went on I-90 through Snowqualmie pass. I never did figure out how to use the cruise control.

I had no idea I would be driving through the Cascade Range–pine, fir and spruce trees, standing tall and regal along the side of the road. At times, I felt I was driving through a tree tunnel.

Finally, I breathed a sigh of relief and truly enjoyed the drive through the fall colors, but it rained almost the whole way. At times, I had to slow down surrounded by trucks vooming by. I crossed the Yakima River several times and the Snake and Colombia Rivers–water everywhere it seemed to this dry land, desert dweller.

I couldn’t connect with my husband, Lin, because his phone was dead, so I felt I was on my own, but all was right. I wasn’t sure when I needed to arrive at the hotel, and the heavy rain stopped me from taking pictures of the majestic fall colors.

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The conference last three days.

On Sunday morning I arose at 5:30 am because I had that four and one half hour drive back to Seattle and was told by the rental car clerk to arrive at the airport two and a half hours early because of the security lines. I had passed the crowd when I left the terminal for the rental car shuttle and saw the long lines, so I knew what she meant.

As I pulled out of the Marcus Whitman Hotel parking lot, I saw a gas station close, so I grabbed a coffee and another Lunchable, this time for breakfast. The dark morning made it hard to see, and I dealt with fog off and on the whole trip. I experienced a little rain but mostly fog.

I did stop to take the following pictures as I viewed a valley full of fog and a surprising rainbow.

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On my drive, coming down into a valley of fog & a rainblow!

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Valley full of fog!

 

I loved the fall foliage–an amplified collection of bright orange and yellow!

This leg of the trip, I phoned with Lin–to let him know I was on the road, then he texted me vital information–his football team, the Eagles were playing in London and the game started at 7:30 am, our time, so he was up and about.

The fall colors were the brightest along the river by Cle Elum, a gorgeous city by the Cle Elum river–orange and yellow leafed trees lined the river.

As I neared Seattle, I stressed over the amount of gas in the car. I bought the rental package where they would fill it up when I returned it, so my job was to bring it back as empty as possible. This new car’s gas meter chimed “Low Fuel” when it was on a quarter of a tank and I was 70 miles from Seattle–that was shocking! Then the needle moved slowly. I kept trying to figure out the cruise control and found a button that told me how many miles left to fill up, but I didn’t trust it, so I stopped and added $5 worth of gas and the gas gauge needle didn’t move at all.

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The gas gauge needle moved. I sweated out the last twenty miles to the airport because the needle hovered almost at empty, and wouldn’t you know it–a horrible car accident happened one and a half miles before the Seattle/Tacoma Airport exit. I inched my way by thinking, “I didn’t figure this possibility in. I hope I don’t run out of gas.”

When I pulled into the Dollar rental return space, I breathed finally–my mind had imagined all kinds of horror stories of running out of gas a few miles away.

Before catching the shuttle, I found the bathroom to relieve myself in preparation for the long wait in line. I caught the shuttle back to the airport, checked my bags and printed my boarding pass. I started to get in the long line to go through security and thought, “Wouldn’t it be funny if I was TSA Pre boarding?”

I looked my ticket over and I was! I backtracked out of the long line and went down to check in at gate 4. One passenger stood ahead of me, and I saw no bins to put my laptop, iPad and my shoes in.

“Where’s the bins?”

The TSA agent smiled and said, “No need. Keep your shoes on and you don’t have to unpack your backpack.”

So what I feared all day–a two and one half hours wait in the line only took five minutes. That freed me to buy a Starbucks, call my husband and relax. I grabbed a quick lunch and had a enjoyable visit with an airport worker from North Africa. I was listening to the Bronco game on my iPad with my AirPods, and he thoroughly enjoyed my enthusiasm.

I slept on the first leg of my return trip home. I sat in the Oakland airport writing the first draft of this blog. When I finished, I had tomato basil soup for dinner and then on to Albuquerque. I read and played games on my iPad on the Albuquerque leg. My husband picked me up at the airport, and the long travel day was done.

I have traveled a lot in my life–I flew all over the USA to meet my ex-husband for dancing. I taught for Lesley College and flew by myself for two years. Lin and I have traveled a lot too. Every trip has its memories. This one makes me chuckle when I think about all the worrying I did. Would I have trouble seeing and driving? Would I get to the Seattle airport early enough?

Once again, I did fine and enjoyed the serendipities of a trip!

Do you like to travel? Have you had an adventure flying? driving? Share your thoughts. I would love to hear from you.

The holidays are coming!

Visit my website:  https://www.laradasbooks.com

Discounts galore starting now at my Etsy Shop, Larada’s Reading Loft

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I’m Disappointed!

 

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Normally I’m a very positive optimistic person and try not to admit disappointment–look for the sunny, bright side, am a Pollyanna, etc. ad nauseam. Yesterday, at the airport, I wrote a celebratory post highlighting the conference I attended over the weekend, void of my complete experience. Yes, I loved some of the conference’s offerings, but this morning, I decided to be honest.

I left disappointment and discouraged as a writer. I want to tell you why–maybe you’ve had a conference experience like mine.

I have self-published four books and three cookbooks in the last five years. No best sellers but I’ve enjoyed my “retirement job.” I’m also a genre-jumper. I’ve written two memoirs, a historical fiction and a nonfiction about the West. My next project is a biography, and the one after that is woman’s fiction. I write poetry; I write prose. Many writers pledge their allegiance to one genre, one topic–I don’t, but I am a writer–clear fact! This conference challenged that fact to my core.

Every year in October a group of writers who celebrate the west, women and girls through their writing converge on a city west of the Mississippi, connect and reconnect for three days. Last year was my first experience in Tucson, Arizona and was easy for Lin and I to drive to from Albuquerque. I felt this group was “My Tribe.” This year’s event was in Walla Walla,  which is in the southeastern corner of Washington state–not easy to get to from New Mexico. The conference paperwork suggested flying in to Seattle, so I did, but then it was a four and a half hour drive to Walla Walla. That added to the stress for sure.

I looked forward to this conference more so than my first year, because I submitted a proposal to do a workshop, my Memoir Workshop, and it was accepted! I had presented it several times at Albuquerque libraries and felt it was a strong presentation. I imagined selling all of my books–I lugged a second suitcase full of fifteen books and my handouts there and back! My expectations played a big part in my disappointment!

Thursday night, each of the winners and finalists of the Willa awards read a five minute snippet of their work–what an enjoyable evening. The Willa awards are given in memory of Willa Cather and has seven categories: Contemporary Fiction, Historical Fiction. Original Soft Cover Fiction, Creative Nonfiction, Scholarly Nonfiction, Poetry and Children’s/Young Adult Fiction & Nonfiction. Each of the winners and finalists’ work stood out as strong literary achievements.

I had submitted my latest memoir, A Time to Grow Up, in the Creative Nonfiction category, and it was not selected. I especially listened to those entries to compare them to mine–I understood the selection to a point but still wondered?

I sat next to the president of the organization at that reading. She was friendly and welcoming.

Friday afternoon I attended an agent panel and an editor panel to help the attendees become better acquainted with these powerful people in the publishing world. The sessions helped us decide which ones to pitch our work to during the scheduled pitch sessions. I had scheduled a pitch session with one of the editors, but many attendees wait until the conference to hear from the agent or editor personally at these panels before selecting.

After the panels, I hurried upstairs to the pitch rooms and surprisingly saw lots of openings with all the agents and editors on the schedule, so I signed up with everyone except one agent I met last year. To my credit, I did six pitches in about 1 and 1/2 hours to no avail.

I have self-published all my books, so there was little interest in my published work, and no one was interested in a biography about a 91 year old world famous square dance caller. One agent did give me a great slant to take on this book and then suggested a PBS project to consider.

The most startling rejection was a fiction story I wrote two years ago about two women friends, incest and their healing–an agent and an editor both told me that the publishing work isn’t accepting any work on incest! REALLY! The agent refused matter-of-factly; the editor vehemently refused. Her face flushed and she repeated several times she never accepts work on that topic. I walked away stunned and angry!

Yes, I now understand I was at a conference for writing about the west and women and girls, but the reaction shut me out. Afterwards I realized why there were so few writers signing up to pitch their work. Four of the seven did not do fiction and many of attendees are fiction writers.

This conferenced scheduled three banquets: Friday evening’s banquet celebrated the Laura winners, a short story contest named after Laura Ingalls. Again each author read a short section to give the audience a test of the story–delightful experience!

My Memoir workshop on Saturday afternoon went well even though I had some technical difficulties. The attendees participated, thanked me and seemed appreciative. I had thought that the attendees would buy my books because of me being a presenter–I did not sell one book.

Then add insult to injury, they have a Book Signing time Saturday from 5:00 – 6:00 pm. Supposedly shoppers could still buy books, but no one bought mine. I looked around the room and mostly the winners and finalists of the Willa awards sold books. The rest of us authors–the majority in the room–sat and watched the action happening away from us!

Then the evening ended with another banquet to celebrate the Willa winners–the third banquet of the weekend. Saturday noon’s banquet celebrated the finalists in the Willa awards. I was “banqueted” out.

Today I realize the conference is about celebrating the twenty-one winners and finalists of the Willa awards and the five winners of the Laura awards. I get that now, but it was an expensive lesson. In writing this blog, healing happened: I also realize I’m a successful writer because I write–pure and simple!

I always have to look at the positives in every experience: I met some wonderful, friendly people at the conference. I always learn something helpful at any workshop I attend. I made some connections which could possibly help me on the biography I’m writing. I will continue my membership in this organization and continue to submit entries into their contests because it stretches me.

The drives to and from Walla Walla were breathtaking and stressful. I will tell you about my adventure in my next blog.

Have you ever had an experience like this at a conference? If so, what did you do? Share your comment below.

Check out my books at my web site:  https://www.laradasbooks.com

Fall specials continue at my Etsy Shop:  Larada’s Reading Loft

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Aunt Willie Almost Made 99!

Can you imagine living to be 98–a few short weeks of being 99? Think about all the changes you’d see in nine decades.

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Larada, Jan & Mom Standing & Aunt Willie Sitting

On October 12, 2018, my dear Aunt Willie Urbanoski passed away at 4:20 am at 98 years old. She wanted to make 100 but her God had different ideas. Over the last few years, we referred to her as “The Ever Ready Bunny” because she had been on the brink of death several times and came back to us full of vim and vigor, but when I got the text this time from my cousin, something inside of me shuttered–it didn’t feel the same.

As a child, my brother, Harold couldn’t pronounce Aunt Willie, so he called her “Aunt Wee Wee,” and it stuck. That was her name my whole childhood.

At twelve, I spent a week with her and Uncle Hughie fishing and then on to Albuquerque. She toured me around town to all the sights. I’m sure my love for Albuquerque began on this visit.

The Urbanoski’s attended very major event in my life and my brother’s–graduations,  marriages and more. When I was princess representing Branson High School at the Trinidad State Junior College Tournament, they came and supported me–always they were there for us.

Aunt Willie’s delicious humor kept us laughing right up to our last visit on Sunday, October 7, 2018. I had the habit of talking to Mom every Sunday night on my drive to a meeting, so when Mom died, I asked Aunt Willie if I could call her; she agreed with a twinkle in her eyes.

We anticipated our weekly phone date. We’d catch up on our lives and seasonally, we talked about the success or failure of the Denver Bronco’s. Aunt Willie loved Peyton Manning and wanted the offensive line to protect him more. Other times we’d talk about the dancers on Dancing with the Stars and moan and groan if our couple got kicked off. She loved to hear about Lin and my travels and dancing adventures. She also loved to talk about her three granddaughters and two great grandsons.

Click to view slideshow.

She was my Mom’s older sister by nine years. She had no trouble telling my Mom that she had it made in their family until Mom arrived–Aunt Willie was the only grandchild until then. All my life, they had a close relationship, but I loved to watch these two sisters together, especially later in life after they were widowed–they lived about 20 miles apart for several years and spent as much time together as possible. I marveled at their mutual support during this part of their lives.

Aunt Willie had a special love affair with my husband, Lin. It started the moment they met with lots of flirting and carrying on and lasted even until our last phone call with lighthearted bantering going back and forth between them.

Her life was full and rich–she grew up in northeastern New Mexico in a small community, Des Moines, which she loved. For many years, she organized a yearly reunion for classmates.

She married the love of her life, Hugh Urbanoski and they raised the joy of their lives, Janet, in Albuquerque, NM. Aunt Willie worked and retired from payroll office at Sandia Base. As soon as they could after retirement, Uncle Hughie and Aunt Willie moved to Folsom, NM to be close to their daughter and her family.

For the last few years, I visited Aunt Willie monthly in Pueblo, CO and asked lots of questions because I enjoyed hearing her retell her stories–how she met Uncle Hughie, how she played basketball in school and was accused of drinking alcohol once, how much she enjoyed being a waitress in Raton, NM and so much more.

Losing her has been really hard. As I viewed her body this last Wednesday, I was reminded again that our bodies are temporary homes for our spirits. She looked peaceful, but that lifeless form wasn’t my Aunt Willie–vibrant and giggly and so affirming of me. I will miss her terribly–Sunday nights won’t be the same.

Death is a part of our lives. How do you handle it? I would love to hear your comments!

Check out my books on my website: https://www.laradasbooks.com

Visit my Etsy Shop for Fall Specials: Larada’s Reading Loft

 

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The Huntsman World Senior Games–A Life Changing Experience!

Every year in October, thousands of seniors descend on St. George, Utah for the Huntsman World Senior Games. All athletes must be 50 years old by December 31, 2018. This year 11,300 athletes from 32 countries will compete in 30 events, and we competed  in square dancing.

Our week started off on Monday with practice sessions all day to prepare for the square dance competition Tuesday morning. We had a set square with another couple from Albuquerque, New Mexico–Jerry and Mary Beth Gilbreath–and two couples from St. George, Utah. That evening we had a square dance with Gary Shoemake and Ken Bower calling the squares and Steve and Lori Harris doing the rounds. We danced the whole evening with our square to practice.

Tuesday morning we competed in three categories of square dancing: Mainstream, Plus and Random. We competed in our set square in Mainstream and Plus. In the Random category, couples put their names in and the square is formed randomly.

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Our Square Danced in Red, White & Blue for Competition Day

Each square had two judges watching to see if the square broke down. When the square broke down, the timer started, and it stopped when the square formed facing lines at the head position–that’s what down time is on the scoring.

Each competition has three tips that are five minutes long with each tip progressively getting harder and harder. Whew! When it was over, I was exhausted. I wanted to do as well as the previous the year, so I felt the pressure.

Last year we took a square from Albuquerque for our first time, and we brought home Gold medals for Mainstream and Plus and one of our couples won a Gold medal for the Random square.

Tuesday evening was the Opening Ceremony at Trailblazer Stadium at Dixie State University. We marched onto the field with our square dance banner waving. We each carried a flag and I felt like a real athlete in a world competition.

Click to view slideshow.

The evening program was outstanding with entertainment by a local youth troop, the Diamond Talent Dancers. We were welcomed by the mayor of St. George, John Pike, and the lieutenant governor, Spencer Cox. Mr. Cox’s storytelling ability captured my heart. The guest speaker for the evening was Dan Clark, a renown author and speaker that held our attention with his motivational stories and humor.

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The 32 Country Flags Represented

Each competing country was honored with a person dressed in a flag of that country, then each country was recognized during the evening. The delightful evening ended with the lighting of the torch and a magnificent fireworks display.

Running concurrently throughout the week was our own Cribbage tournament with Lin and Jerry against Mary Beth and me. We played whenever we had free time and ended up playing about 22 games. The guys won with 14 wins to our 11, but they double skunked us Tuesday night after the Open Ceremony and that counted as 3 wins. We laughed and enjoyed the competition and the fun.

Wednesday morning we danced and enjoyed the awesome dancers in attendance, then we were free for the afternoon for a variety of health screenings, provided by the Senior Games. We danced Wednesday night again. One of the perks of attending the Senior Games is all the dancing.

That evening Steve and Lori Harris, the cuers and dear friends of ours, were inducted into the Hall of Fame for the Senior Games–so deserving!

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Hall of Fame Recipients

Thursday morning was the celebratory brunch and medal ceremony–I was so nervous this year because the pressure was on after our first year’s performance.

It’s been hilarious over this past year as Lin and I have traveled to festival across the country because dancers knew we won and some solicited to join our square, if we needed someone!

The 2018 results are in: our square won a Gold medal for Mainstream with a down time of .32 seconds. Our square won a Silver medal for Plus with a down time of 8.75 seconds. And Lin and I won a Gold medal for the Random square with a down time of 8.73 seconds. We had dancers in our Random square from California, Washington, Colorado, New Mexico and Utah.

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My Three Medals – Yahoooooo!

Click to view slideshow.

Whew! How exciting!

More than anything, this event is about the people–the dancers–and the fun!

 

Are you 50 or older and would like to compete in the Senior Games? What sport do you play? Leave a comment below.

Visit my web site:  https://www.laradasbooks.com

Check out my Etsy Shop for Fall Specials, Larada’s Reading Loft

Visit the Senior Games web site: https://seniorgames.net

 

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How Do You Handle a Change of Plans?

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Lin Driving In Front of Me Through Zion National Park

Today was an unusual day in the desert Southwest–rain and more rain. Heading towards St. George, Utah from Albuquerque, New Mexico for the Huntsman Senior Games,  we attempted to drive through Zion National Park in two 37-foot Class A motorhomes, each towing a car. Notice I said, “Attempted!”

Lin and I followed Jerry and Mary Beth Gilbreath all day yesterday and today. Up until this point, the trip had been uneventful–the way any veteran RVer likes. After our successful trip here last year and winning two gold medals in the square dance competition, we were jazzed to get our destination and sign in.

Driving along this morning, I was shocked when I saw the “Zion National Park” sign pass by because years ago I had driven through Zion with my ex in a smaller motorhome and it was tight fit–how could we do it today with these monstrosities and towing cars?

No warning signs said, “No big RV’s,” so I thought they must have changed the route–it had been over ten years ago. Things do change!

When we pulled up to the checkin station, the ranger curtly laid out the plan, “You have to unhitch the car, and someone drive it through. There are two tunnels. The first one, drive through as normal. At the second one, a ranger will stop the oncoming traffic, make it a one-way lane and you can drive safely down the middle. Do you understand the instructions?”

Lin took it all in and nodded his head. Our travel companions in the RV ahead of us had already pulled into a lot to unhitch, so we did the same. Talk about a change in plans–I now had to drive through Zion National Park with its winding roads, cars parked along the road and people walking from the cliffs back to their cars. Wow! What an adventure!

Jerry led the parade through Zion with Mary Beth following in their tow vehicle. Then Lin followed her and I brought up the rear.

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Jerry in the Lead, Mary Beth in the Middle and then Lin

 

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Lin Going Through the First Tunnel

 

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Lin Making A Corner

What a gorgeous drive we had, winding our way through the red rocks, but I was sure that Lin and Jerry weren’t in agreement with me. I took pictures a long the way–our speed was extra slow so I had time.

The tight curves made you slow down. The road was lined with cars parked wherever they could and tourists walked back to their cars with cameras bouncing with each step. Families, singles and couples relished the view of the majesty of this canyon–smiles and satisfied faces everywhere.

I felt my God in this adventure–I have had a strong attraction to the Colorado Plateau for years and all of its expression of grandeur from Zion to Capitol Reef and the Grand Canyon–breathtaking vistas of hoodoos at Bryce Canyon and the curvatures of Arches and Bridges. So this was a respite for me in the midst of the chaotic world of today.

God often touches my life like this–an event that could be stressful and negative turned into a peaceful time of admiring His handiwork. I guess the years have tempered me to not react with a gasp and screech, “Oh, no” when there’s a sudden change like this. As a smile crept slowly across my lips and heart, I bowed my head thankfully and said, “OK, God! I’m ready for another adventure.”

Being flexible helps when you travel. Share one of your travel plans that suddenly changed.

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Visit my web site:  https://www.laradasbooks.com

Check out the fall specials at my Etsy Shop, Larada’s Reading Loft

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How Last Week Affected This Sexual Abuse Survivor

The long-term effects of child sexual abuse can be so pervasive that it’s sometimes hard to pinpoint exactly how the abuse affected you. It permeates everything: your sense of self, your intimate relationships, your sexuality, your parenting, your work life, even your sanity. Everywhere you look, you see its effects.

The Courage to Heal, A Guide for  Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse

Ellen Bass and Laura Davis

Yes, I have compartmentalized my life: I have written a book, This Tumbleweed Landed, about my childhood in a small ranching community–there’s no mention of incest or sexual abuse, and I painted a pretty idealic life. How can that be? Many survivors live two lives. I did have a great childhood. The stories and poems I share in that book are real, but a pall of horror hung over that same childhood that I didn’t understand until many years later.

In June of 1993, my Mom and Dad were preparing a surprise celebration of my 40th birthday, and Mom had gathered together an envelope of pictures of me–a variety of ages until my high school graduation. She planned to post them on a poster board at my party. It never happened because I spent my 40th birthday in a Sexual Trauma Treatment Center in Los Lunas, New Mexico.

The two collages in this post are a selection of those pictures–brokenhearted Mom sent them to me in treatment. So on my birthday I went through the whole envelope and told my story to the other clients there. One client read a children’s book, celebrating the day I was born. We laughed; we cried, but we celebrated Larada.

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The Face of an Incest Survivor

Today when I created these two collages, I mulled over how this last week affected me, an incest survivor. My hands shook–I wondered if this was a good idea, but I had to do it.

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The Face of an Incest Survivor

When did I realize I was an incest survivor? The flashbacks started when my first husband and I separated, and I went to live in a Christian community in Windsor, Colorado. The flashbacks came like a black and white movie of my life, but I remembered only one of my perpetrators then. No one talked about sexual assault or abuse then in the late 1970’s.

After my divorce in 1981, I began to drink and act out sexually for seven years, repressing the memories that haunted me. In 1988 I ended up in CoDA (Codependent Anonymous) treatment in Kingman, Kansas. I was 35 years old. I dealt with those memories that had surfaced years before, but there were more to come. In treatment, I realized I was an alcoholic, so recovery became the focus of my life.

After my treatment in 1993, I met with a therapist regularly for about twenty years and healed a large part of the injury to my soul. When I first started therapy, I defined myself as a victim; I saw the whole world through the lens of a survivor and it narrowed my perspective and possibilities for sure. As I healed, I grew to not view myself in that tainted way–now I loved my reflection in the mirror. Life continued with ups and downs–not perfection but lots of times my God helped me through. It seemed the sexual trauma issue was behind me, and I walked away from my therapist thinking we were finished. For many years, it never crossed my mind, then. . .

As the election campaign of 2016 unfolded, I heard Trump bragging about barging into the young ladies’ dressing room for the Miss Teen USA contest and something ruptured deeply in me. I held my breath–this couldn’t be. I heard more allegations about his victims. On the night of the election, I stayed up until after 1:00 am shocked and horrified to see that Trump had won. My husband commented later that my look that night was more distraught than losing an election. Yes, it was–I had to face a perpetrator as our president. I returned to therapy and renewed my ability to let go and realize that “God is control not Donald Trump.”

December 2017, the #metoo movement hit–The Silence Breakers. I felt validated by these courageous women and their stance. Perhaps this world was changing. We had to unite and tell our secrets, so I disclosed that I was a survivor on Facebook.

Then this last week came. On top of the emotional stress of the week, I had a urinary tract infection and was sick. On Thursday, I couldn’t sit and watch Dr. Ford testify–I visibly shook and turned it off, then on, then returned again and again. I wept at the horror of having to tell her story in front of the world.

The previous night I had read some of the transcript of Dr. Ford’s Opening Statement and gasped when she said that the perpetrator had held his hand over her mouth to quiet her. A similar horrific memory crashed in on me. One of my perpetrators held his hand over my mouth as he raped me with a toy airplane and then said, “Be quiet! It doesn’t hurt.” At that point, I knew–it’s specifics like that resonate.

So I focussed totally on the Hearing and the Confirmation on Thursday and Friday–more turmoil as I read comments on my Facebook page by people accusing Dr. Ford of being a liar.

Saturday morning, I had a flashback to the last time I saw one of my perpetrators and I didn’t panic, hyperventilate or dissociate. I wrote a poem titled, “The Ultimate Betrayal,” I wrote in my journal, and I cried. I breathed a sigh of deep freedom–I have healed. Those old memories have no power over me anymore. I didn’t need to act out, rush over to my therapist or melt on the floor in a puddle of tears. I acknowledged the memory and let it go. What a difference for sure!

I agree with E. E. Cummings: “It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” I know without a doubt that I am really Larada today–65 years old, loving life and married to the love of my life–a gentle kind man. We dance, we laugh and we enjoy life. Last week was hard but I survived–ready to go on believing that survivors everywhere will unite and end the secrets that need to be shared!

Again this week, I experienced my two lives but today the healed Larada won. I will follow Dr. Ford’s charge about sharing our truth: “I am here because I believe it is my civic duty to tell you what happened to me.” And I did.

Are you a survivor? Be sure and look for The Courage to Heal–A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse at Amazon.com

THOUGHTFUL RESOURCES TO PERUSE

If you need any information, go to RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network) “is the nation’s largest anti-sexual violence organization. RAINN created and operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline (800.656.HOPE, online.rainn.org y rainn.org/es) in partnership with more than 1,000 local sexual assault service providers across the country and operates the DoD Safe Helpline for the Department of Defense. RAINN also carries out programs to prevent sexual violence, help survivors, and ensure that perpetrators are brought to justice.”

Look at this post on George Takei Fan World Facebook page–a visual always speaks louder than words–a stark reality.

Another resource –  “How Trauma Affects Memory: Scientists Weigh In On The Kavanaugh Hearing”

You are welcome to contact me below or privately. My email address is larada@earthlink.net

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Check out my web site: https://www.laradasbooks.com

Visit my Etsy Shop for fall specials: Larada’s Reading Loft

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