Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

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How it Goes

   Last night we celebrated my parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary here at the farm. Loved ones came from near and far to congratulate them and encourage them on a hard earned and really happy milestone. It was a lot of fun and much deserved. My parents are the best and are loved by so many people.

   Still, of course, it was a terribly bittersweet celebration in the wake of losing Handsome’s Mom. When Judy passed away, she and Harvey were on the eve of their own fortieth anniversary party here at the farm. I don’t think we’ll ever forget that detail. So, as beautiful as the evening was in a thousand ways, it was fraught with difficult emotion. All rooted in love.

   I will tell more of these stores as we go. For now, a sudden insight from video gaming.

********************

   Today after church, Handsome, his sweet Dad, and I went to lunch with Handsome’s sister and her beautiful family. Everyone is understandably steeped in sadness right now. The shock of their Mom’s death is wearing off. The crowds have all gone home. And the pain is visceral.

   In a deliberate effort to lighten the mood and give the kids at the table something upbeat to think about for a while, my husband, “Uncle B” as he is known to the kids, struck up a conversation with our blue-eyed middle-school nephew Koston. About Minecraft.

   Koston is a Minecraft devotee. A Minecraft guru. A Minecraft genius it’s fair to say.

   Uncle B made a few remarks about the difficulty with which his own Minecraft adventure had recently started. He complained good-naturedly about the built-in obstacles and frustrating surprises that come with trying to build something from nothing in this imaginary digital world. He was playfully soliciting sympathy from his nephew.

   Koston, this blue-eyed boy who I have come to love so dang much, grinned just a little, shook his head casually, and said, “That’s just how it goes at first.”

   “That’s just how it goes?!” Uncle B objected with a measure of exaggeration. I couldn’t help but laugh. My husband has a way of slicing through a really thick atmosphere. I love him for this. Some people may interpret it as irreverence, but they’re flatly wrong. It’s nothing but love.

   “That’s just how it goes.” Koston chuckled a little and shrugged one shoulder. I am guessing he thought it hilarious to be giving any kind of instruction to his tall, strapping, accomplished Uncle, the man who is anchoring the entire family right now. Koston’s blue eyes were as clear as Mexico waters, just gazing steadily through his few words. He knows his stuff. Especially when it comes to Minecraft.

   “Okay! I guess!!” Uncle B laughed too and threw up his hands. Then he continued his mocked up complaints and prodding to get his boys to smile for a moment longer. For the most part, it worked.

********************

 
   I just keep wondering about the simple assurance Koston was providing with a grin and a shrug. That’s just how it goes at first. So true. What’s also true is how things tend to get better with time and effort. How the many games we play are still worth playing, no matter how difficult.

   And I keep hoping that everyone has lots of people nearby to give them this assurance when needed. I know I need it. Life is hard. A lot hard. And that’s just how it goes at first. But I believe deep down that it gets better.

Be gentle with each other.
XOXOXOXO

Two Weeks Later, Love Remains

   This is gonna be an unusual blog post. Please forgive me if it’s even more rambly than normal. I want to organize my thoughts and relay them poetically, with some meaning or message, but all I can muster right now are observations and a few cell phone photos.

All you need is love! And treats. Chunk-hi agrees. 

   The last two weeks since losing Handsome’s Mom have in many ways been unlike any others in my life. Daily, hourly, by the moment, life has been unpredictable and volatile. On the other hand, some beautiful, familiar ribbons of love and stability have carried us from day to day. While we are once again broken in many places, the most important things between us have not changed, they have only strengthened. For this I am so grateful.

   The shock is just beginning to really fade. In its place I am seeing pain, confusion, loneliness, and much more. A flash of anger here and there. Judy was so much to so many people, that she is leaving a void no one person can fill. And she is gone far sooner than anyone was prepared to let her go.

   This is a time everyone relies on God to fill the gaps in our hearts, and He does, if we wait. We all try to be of service to each other, to be used in any way He asks. Preparing meals, cleaning, laundering, driving, listening, praying, organizing, repairing… Anything. But the grief is so ongoing, so revealing of a love that is deep and forever, that no tasks we perform from day to day really feel like enough. So we just keep trying.

brightontheday

   Handsome’s sweet Dad, Harvey, is staying with us at the farm for as long as possible. I hope to share lots of his stories as time passes. He is wonderful, and many days I feel like I love him as much I love his son. We really appreciate having him here, and I only hope the togetherness is as good for him as it is for my husband. The farm had been filled with dozens of other beloved visitors day in and day out for the past two weeks, so now the three of us will begin to discover a new daily routine. I know already that everything will be different. That’s okay.

   God is so good. I don’t have to look too hard to find hidden blessings, special skinny little silver linings that take the edge off the pain, but I also feel incredibly guilty enjoying those gifts. The circumstances under which they have been sent are so hard, and most times as daughter-in-law I feel like on onlooker, sometimes even an intruder into a dark, terrible, intimate family room. I loved Judy very much and admired her perhaps more than I ever realized, but my grief is completely different from everyone else’s. That’s probably normal, I don’t know.

Marci, thank you for this rare photo.

 

   The Tiny T love story will continue. I don’t feel like writing it exactly, but last week I was really surprised to learn that my in-laws had been reading the series together and had even started making guesses about what kind of woman T would end up with. So, especially because I love my father-in-law so much, T will return pretty soon. I missed the 31 day challenge again, but the love story will keep going for as long as it needs to.

   The farm is torn between cold and balmy, between new life and a deep, chilling slumber. Several of us noticed with lots of wonder that the forests were all lush green until the day after the funeral. Now every branch is bearing as much gold, crimson, and russet as green. Still, though, the apple trees have been blooming again, like it’s spring time. The herbs are still growing like it’s June, except for the tell tale seed spikes begging to be collected. And we harvest peppers and tomatoes, day after day. Kind of amazing.

Apple blooms in autumn?

   The horses have already found their thick, fuzzy winter coats. Chanta is so silky right now, so tempting. When I need to cry I go to the middle field and lay across him, combing my fingers deep through the gold and white hair all over his big belly, and he wraps his neck over me.

   Today my baby brother and I will be preparing a fortieth wedding anniversary celebration for our parents. It’s a wonderful occasion, and I’m so excited, but of course it’s bittersweet. Judy passed away just hours before we were to celebrate forty years for her and Harvey. See? Life is so wildly extreme. So all over the place. We must be limber and strong.

   As I finish writing this, the late morning sun is streaming passionately through the big east window. Mammoth plants and flowers from the funeral are everywhere, gilded now and illuminated by the fresh new day. Really pretty and really sad. Just like every other detail lately. The living room is absolutely pulsing with color and light, and I have no idea what to do about that.

   Thanks so much for all of your kind words, for all of your prayers. Every single speck has been relayed to the family.

   There is much more to say. I don’t know when I will write again, or about what, but for us life goes on. Love is steady and reliable, stronger than ever. There are dishes to rinse. Beds to be made smooth and comfortable. Animals to feed. Aprons to sew. There is plenty to do. And once again, for this I am so grateful.

Work is love made visible.
~Khalil Gibran
xoxoxoxo

Judy Wreath, a Celebration of Life

Over this past weekend our family suffered a terrible loss.
Handsome’s sweet Mom, Judy Goddard Wreath,
passed away suddenly very early Saturday morning, 
and we have been reeling ever since.
Every routine, naturally, is on pause for a while 
as we tend to each other’s grief and make 
final arrangements for a truly great lady.
In the days since her passing, we have received dozens, 
perhaps hundreds, of phone calls and emails 
describing the myriad ways Judy has touched people’s lives.
It is humbling, inspiring, and comforting all at once.

Following is a small tribute to her for her loved ones to keep 
and hopefully for adding their own memories.

If you knew Judy Wreath,
then this little memorial should make you nod your head 
and maybe laugh, and maybe cry, 
and probably want to tell your own stories.
We certainly hope you join in.

If you never got the chance to know her,
I bet you’ll want to.
********************
   Judy Goddard Wreath was born to Edgar and Goldie Goddard on January 22, 1947 in Tipton, Oklahoma. She lived all her life in Oklahoma but worked hard, spread the love of God, and made lifelong friends everywhere she went.

Judy Goddard as a pretty little girl, already full of ideas and adventure.

   As a young teenager she moved to Oklahoma City with her family then graduated from Western Heights high school in 1964. She lived a full, generous life and died unexpectedly on Saturday, October 19, 2013 in her home in Moore, Oklahoma. Judy was preceded in death by her parents, by her brother Danny, and by her husband Harvey’s parents and two siblings. She is survived by a large family including one sister, cousins,  and many nieces and nephews.

They started their marriage in prayer, and they have maintained that standard.
They prayed together every morning before starting their day,
right up until they would have celebrated their fortieth anniversary this week.
   Married on the balcony of the Liberty bank tower in downtown Oklahoma City on October 21, 1973, Judy and her husband Harvey Wreath were just shy of celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary when she passed. Their decades together exemplified marital union and teamwork  in every way possible, from how they raised their blended family to the careers they shared and the church they helped grow and pastor. Judy was truly Harvey’s right arm just as he was hers, and thinking of them apart feels unnatural to everyone who loves them.

I adore this photo, the way she is looking at her husband, my wonderful father-in-law.
I hope he always feels her love.
   Judy leaves behind her beloved husband, Harvey Wreath, three beautiful daughters and their husbands, Angela and David Anderson, Cindy and Roger Wagner, and Tyrene and Shad Turoczi; two loving sons and their wives, Eddie and Amy Wreath and Brandy and Marie Wreath; twenty-one grandchildren of whom she was so proud, Courtney and Eric Fillebaum, Nicole and Matthew Lee, Jennifer Anderson and fiancee Jordan Brandford, Amy Jo Anderson, Jami Canfield, Lacy and Joe Echelle, Tanner Wagner, Tehran and Catherine Turoczi, Haven Turoczi, Koston Turoczi, Trevor Wreath, Matthew Wreath, Samantha Wreath, Harley Bell Wreath, Jocelyn Hartley, and Jessica Hartley; and seven wonderful little great-grand children, Kylen and Holden Fillebaum, Wesley Canfield, Grant and Taryn Echelle, and Jaxson and Milani Turoczi.

   And she was called “Mom” or “Granda-girl” or “Grandma Judy” by countless other children through the years, from Sunday School students and foster kids to children she helped in her work as a police officer and child advocate.

   Judy’s love for children was matched only by her deep affection for the elderly. Her example of how to treat the Golden Generation is one we all should follow.
   The list of friends she leaves behind is long and varied, rich with love and admiration, but one friend in particular, Carolyn Schultz, was like a sister to her for most of their lives. And a cousin, David, was as much a brother to her as well.
   Judy’s professional life was as richly textured and meaningful as her personality. She worked as a bookkeeper , as an apartment complex manager (where she and Harvey first met), as business manager of Harvey’s Body Shop in Moore (where she was also known to pinstripe cars), as an organist for different churches, and much more. For more than twenty-five years, she and Harvey worked not just one but many jobs together, certainly a testament to their love and compatibility.
   Judy was a talented seamstress who never sold her creations but instead donated dress after dress to women and children in need, as well as drapes, baby blankets, and much more. She sewed for her own home and others, and she has passed on to her family that craving to create with fabric.
   Judy was a sometime street racer over the years and she loved cars, especially hot rods, but not yellow ones. But she hated motorcycles just as much and took it personally that her loved ones continued to ride them.
   Judy was active with and devoted to her children from the cradle through adulthood. She placed a high value on play and joyfulness in the home, from playing dress up and having fashion shows to painting little hot wheels or burying them in the dirt. She knew how to play and never wanted any child to go without or feel lonely.
   She was an amazing grandmother, a loyal, dedicated friend, and a tenacious fighter when necessary.  She was someone you wanted in your corner, and she had a talent for seeing through to the root of a problem or to the essence of a broken heart. She was a woman of action, not often idle worry, and the few times she couldn’t directly help you, she was right there just pouring out much needed comfort.
   Most importantly, Judy knew how to pray, and she shared that knowledge with anyone who would listen. She believed in the baptism of the Holy Spirit with the evidence of speaking in tongues (Acts 2:38). She believed in leading a good life and making an honorable name for yourself. At her death she was busy writing a book all about the power of prayer as she had seen it play out in her lifetime, while watching her own grandmother closely. The Democrat Granny Brandstatt.  She often stated that she knew miracles are real.
   Judy was quick to laugh, quick to forgive, quick to defend, extra quick to help anyone in need, and quick to gather people together for a meal. She loved to talk. So much. And her strong, feminine voice and giggle will be missed.
   No one could throw a party quite like her, whatever the occasion, and she was always happy to do it. She made every holiday memorable,  and she made every person feel important. From her trio of elegant Christmas trees and the family’s crab boil in December to Easter egg hunts in the spring and elaborate Halloween galas, Judy kept the family’s rhythm strong with rituals and traditions.
   In Harvey and Judy’s home, the grand kids ruled. The bedrooms were always decked out with fun toys, electronics, and comfortable beds, and the kitchen was always overflowing with exactly the right junk foods. Judy wanted all children to feel safe and secure, and her home was meant to be an oasis for them. This included late night movies, marshmallows in the fireplace, video game marathons, and even prayer. She always made room for everybody.
   As if all of this wasn’t enough, Judy was one of the most dazzlingly effective workers in Oklahoma’s broader political scene. Judy’s maternal grandparents were famously bipartisan, her Granny being a Democrat and her Grandpa being a Republican. This fundamental duality informed Judy’s values well, and she applied it to her political energy, often supporting Republicans but always supporting the best candidates (even if they were Democrats). At a Republican Women’s gathering she once delivered a speech saying that if her polar opposite grandparents could raise eleven kids together, then surely the state’s elected officials from both sides of the aisle could get along! Judy organized fund raisers for men and women at every level of government. She spearheaded successful grassroots campaign strategies, advised politicians, and generally impassioned people to care about what happened around them. She taught her children to respect and appreciate the political process and helped her husband gain election to the Moore City Council in 1978.
   Some of the friends she and Harvey made along this path are the late Senator Helen Cole, Congressman Tom Cole, Senator Gary Gardenhire, Governor Frank and Cathy Keating, Representative Jan Collins, Vice President Mondale, and the late Lillian Carter. Judy never took lightly her opportunities and honors, but she certainly earned every one of them. Many of us were lucky enough to ride her coattails.

Judy with Oklahoma First Lady Cathy Keating.

   Judy was a sort of self-taught politician, psychologist, counselor, attorney, custom painter, and physician. She helped people in thousands of ways, for free, all without a formal education. She researched things that interested her and allowed God to lead her, and we were all blessed by her enthusiasm.  She was always willing to tell you exactly what you needed to do, and was usually spot on, and never she never sent a bill but hoped for your love.
   One of the career paths Judy and Harvey shared was law enforcement. When Harvey was Under Sheriff at Cleveland County, she worked for him as a reserve police officer then again later at the Hallpark Police Department, where she worked as the Juvenile Officer, protecting and mentoring children. They were known to ride the streets together keeping the world safe, taking home lost children, and protecting the innocent.  She never stopped looking for the lost and she had a gift to find them. The children of Hall Park will never forget the special years of trick-or- treating with officer Judy.

Harvey and Judy in uniform together.
   When the Murrah Building was bombed in 1995, Judy worked alongside Harvey to identify victims and notify their families, both awful burdens which she carried with grace. She spent more than two weeks in the morgue under unimaginable circumstances, and all these years since she has testified repeatedly how the Holy Spirit protected and comforted her, kept her sane and happy despite the horrors. She felt honoured to protect the youngest of victims in their last hour. She has also been able to spread that sense of protection to dozens of other people, inspiring them, rescuing them in their darkest hours, pushing them toward hope and peace. This is no small thing.
   Judy was a lover of music. She enjoyed Elvis, heavy symphony music, old fashioned spirituals, and anything her Daddy played on his guitar. Her favorite song was Dream Lover by Bobby Darin. The kids always loved for her and Harvey to sing a duet of Chantilly Lace. She was a talented pianist herself and over the years has kept thousands of worship services moving with her organ music. She loved to share this love of music and secretly bought many instruments for the needy over the years.
   She had a wonderful penchant for the dramatic, which was evident in every room she decorated and every event she planned. She was a history buff and infused her surroundings with special artifacts from the past. Many of our families’ homes are filled with treasures that Mom had found that she thought we just had to have in our homes.  She loved to give so much that you couldn’t tell her something she had was pretty or she would make you take it with you.
   You could count on a Judy Wreath party to be big, beautiful, and memorable. Still, she appreciated little favors people did for her, the small welcoming gestures that made her feel loved.  She threw countless weddings for the the needy and every friend that would let her just take the reigns.  Her talents threw many birthday parties, graduation celebrations, and more. None could throw together a bigger party on a smaller budget and have people leaving in awe.
   Judy liked for women to dress their best and for little girls to be made to feel pretty. She would light up at the chance to make a wedding dress or a little flower girl fluff.  A great honor was also to make special clothing for any baby’s dedication to the Lord. She had so much fun making hundreds of Halloween costumes from clowns, to puppies, to princesses. She also loved for men to be gentlemen and for little boys to get to dress as Batman as often as they wish.

My Handsome with his sweet Momma, after his college graduation ceremony.
I have not known a more proud mother.
   The stories and descriptions about this phenomenal lady could go on and on. There is no one quite like Judy Goddard Wreath, and we all have lost more than a wife and matriarch, though she certainly was that. We have lost more than a friend and mother and grandmother, though of course she was those things too. She was a woman who knew her gifts and used them to the best of her ongoing ability in order to serve others, to make their lives better and to make hers meaningful. She was a woman who wanted more than anything to please her living God so that she could one day be called up to heaven and be reunited with so many loved ones.
   She wanted her friends and family to know how much she loved them. The only time she spoke of fear was when wondering if people loved her back.  When you are missing her and wondering what she thought of you, rest assured, if Judy Wreath knew you, she loved you.  She was a Biblical example of unconditional love.
   The vacancy she leaves will be felt more deeply with every day; but the legacy she leaves can only thrive.
   We all love you, Judy, and miss you terribly.

   And Mr. H says he’ll see you in the morning.
   xoxoxoxo

Tiny T: Episode 9

   T thought for a moment about Olivia’s response, measuring her effervescent voice and testing his own cravings. As he took a breath to speak, he glanced upward. The willowy blonde in the pencil skirt was standing right in front of him, smiling quite directly while eating a fried shrimp po’ boy. Standing elegantly on those vaulted high heels, she rattled him more than women usually do. He scowled and looked away, having to make an effort now to focus on his conversation with Olivia.

   “Well, if you want to have some real fun, let me help, ” he said into his phone as he made a quarter turn away. “You girls shouldn’t be wandering around town alone anyway. It’s just not safe. Let me meet you.” It felt a bit too aggressive really, but the blonde’s stare was ramping him up and he felt this strange need to assert himself in her presence. Plus, he didn’t want to lose the chance to see Olivia again.

   “Umm, okay, what did you have in mind?” Olivia answered gently and with curiosity. Despite a faltering cell phone connection, T had her full attention now. “We are on our way to Frenchman Street now, to see some antique stores. Carly knows the owner of one and my hotel is nearby.”

   “Okay. Just hang loose. I’ll find you.” He clicked his phone off, locked it, and slipped in into his pocket, making a point not to look at the blonde. But he definitely felt her watching him still and after a few seconds couldn’t resist. He squared his considerable shoulders once more and made deliberate eye contact.

   “Hi,” she opened. “I’m Heather.”  Her voice was sticky sweet and decidedly Southern, unlikely to ever give utterance to a stray word or an uncalculated invitation.

   “Hey. I’m T.” He noted the vivid difference he already felt with this woman compared to Olivia. With Heather, he already wasn’t sure who was in charge. Or whether he could trust himself.

   “So where are you rushing off to? And no lunch?” She teased him a little and continued to eat her paper-wrapped meal.

   “Yeah, no lunch after all. I’m meeting some friends across town.” T was surprised by his choice of the words friends and waited for her response.

   “Girl friends? How many do you have?” She pulsed one shoulder up and winked playfully. The fact that she was eavesdropping didn’t surprise him, but the fact that she admitted it freely did. She wiped hot sauce from the corner of her mouth, still made up with lipstick, and took a sip from her drink.

   T had spent so much time digesting the small interactions with Olivia and deciding what to do, and felt so confident with her, that this was really confusing. He just scowled at Heather, trying to not let her hear him breathing harder.

   “It’s okay, You don’t have to answer,” Heather teased again and feigned injury. “But if this city isn’t safe for two women, it sure can’t be safe for one. Walk me back to my office? I’m sure your friends won’t mind.” She grinned and nodded toward a chromed sky scraper behind them. Of course, it was in the opposite direction of Frenchman Street, where music and antiques and a soft, mysterious brunette waited for him.

   “Yeah, sure, of course.” T had chivalry built into his DNA, protectiveness programmed into every aspect of his character, so no matter the circumstances he was powerless against the needful requests of women. They didn’t even have to be attractive women to enslave him to their service, but Heather certainly was. And she seemed to know it.

   “Good! Let’s go.” Heather pitched what remained of her po’ boy into a nearby trash can and twirled the straw of her drink with her tongue, chewing on it a little. She slid one arm through his crooked, muscular elbow and spun him around like they were dancing.

   He had created a small, delicious mess for himself. With less than an hour and a half before his downtown meeting with the journalist, he had promised to find Olivia and Carly on the opposite end of the Quarter and show them a good time. And for what? He really had to idea where it would lead. The sweet, funny, slightly awkward but beautiful brunette was going home soon. Now this tall blonde woman, clearly flirting and leaving no room for doubt about what she wanted, was imposing herself into his day.

   Audience Participation!
Bring it.
xoxoxoxo

 

Tiny T: Episode Eight

   T only had to deliberate with himself for a moment before deciding to call her. Of course he was always going to call her. How many of his hours since last night on Bourbon street had passed without him thinking of her? He moved to the side of the po’ boy stand and under the shade of an ancient magnolia tree. He studied the phone number once more, admiring her handwriting, then folded it and slipped it back into his wallet. Did he really need to keep the paper scrap once he dialed the number? No. He grinned to himself while dialing.

   It rang three times, then a long pause, then he heard her voice giggling and trying to say “Hello?”

   “Hello? Hey. It’s me, T.”

   “T? Oh my gosh, hello! I… Hello! I can’t believe you called. I sort of didn’t expect you to.”

   “Why?” He felt steady in the wake of her flustered sentences. And he liked the idea of being her ballast.

   “Well, I missed our breakfast date, I mean I tried to make it, but the guy told me I’d just missed you. I am so sorry!” She rattled out her feelings like an overtime buzzer was about to disconnect their call. Her friendly desperation pleased him a little.

   “Well, it happens,” he said smoothly, “and I pity the fool who can’t understand that.”

   “Oh, well thank you so much. And thanks for the spinach croissant too. That was so sweet of you.”

   He cleared his throat.

   “It’s almost lunchtime, are you leaving town soon?” He was excited to learn whether he had a chance of seeing her again. While he stood beneath that magnolia tree, chatting with her and avoiding eye contact with another po’ boy customer, a tall willowy blonde woman wearing heels and a pencil skirt, he noticed himself standing even taller than normal and holding his shoulders even more squarely. Was he sucking in a little too? Nah.

   “Well, I really should. Yes. I need to be home by tomorrow morning and had planned to drive to at least Shreveport by nightfall. The thing is, I met this girl and we are having so much fun! I kinda don’t want to leave!” More giggling now, including some from another female voice in the background.

   Audience Participation:
Does T interpret her answer as a brush-off?
or does he jump on the opportunity 
to convince her to stay in town?
Or does he do something completely different?