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

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the first 40 years are the hardest

August 1, 2024

ELOPE

On Friday, July 30, 1982, an incredible love story was written in stone. A 19 year old girl and a 24 year old boy skipped work and drove to Gainesville, Texas, to elope. They drove his brand new Ford F-150 pickup, his first ever new vehicle. The truck was brown with a cloth interior, the seats of which had recently- and dramatically- been peed on by the girl’s one year old daughter as soon as the baby was liberated from her diaper.

The boy wore jeans and a button up shirt, as was his custom. The girl wore a brown a-line skirt and a tan striped blouse. By midday they arrived at the Justice of the Peace, who himself was wearing jeans and boots. They finished the business of making their young love very official and drove promptly back to Oklahoma City. By 3 pm that same day, they were already back at the office supply store where they both worked and where, you might have guessed, they first met, just three months earlier. Despite their best efforts to keep this big decision a secret, the boy’s parents had easily guessed it. These two never missed work, you see, and their brief summer romance had been a whirlwind. Rex and Cathy became the Fridays. No one was surprised.

BUILD

Within their first year of marriage Rex and Cathy bought a piece of raw land in Choctaw, OK, which was then sparsely populated and largely undeveloped. They worked together with lots of help from family to clear the land and prepare the site for a house. They eventually built the house one length of lumber, one brick, and one appliance at a time, debt free. With one crucial exception, they stuck to their commitment to operate exclusively on cash, just chipping away at the plans, paycheck to paycheck, weekend to weekend. The exception was a loan early in the process from Ray Friday, Rex’s father, of two thousand dollars. It was to buy the land itself. He accepted monthly repayments of $100, and when the loan was fully satisfied he gifted the sum back to the kids. A windfall!

In this early chapter while they both worked full time jobs, raised baby Jen, and built their home, the Fridays lived in a trailer home first in a trailer park near Rex’s family and then on their own land. They had one other roommate, a kitchen mouse named Hercules.

The many family members who helped with construction were wildly skilled and experienced builders. They led the way in building in extra safety features and sound engineering. All these years since, Rex and Cathy have marveled at the house’s stubbornness against Oklahoma tornadoes and unusually efficient heating and cooling. Overbuilding was the way to go, even if it took extra time and effort.

In April of 1990, their long group project came to fruition. They had bought the land with a bit of borrowed cash but paid that off. Then they invested their paychecks slowly, spending at last count $25,000 to make their dream a reality. They furnished it with bare bones fixtures and were finally ready to move out of the trailer. Goodbye Hercules!

As they prepared to move, Rex told Cathy they could afford to buy exactly one large appliance for the kitchen, and she could choose either a dishwasher or a combination oven/stove. She wisely chose the dishwasher, noting in her brain that not only did she already own enough counter top appliances to make small meals happen but also that by November her Thanksgiving-loving husband would definitely want her to have a stove for preparing the feast. She was right. She ended that year with both appliances.

ADJUST

Married life was a big adjustment for both of these young people. Communal living among extended family in the trailer park meant more than a few surprise house guests for Cathy, though she did love them all. And Rex was accustomed to having his weekends free for hunting and fishing, which was a rub. Here, Cathy had expectations to be together as a family, especially on Sunday mornings. It took a while to strike a balance, but they did.

They encountered more specific friction, too. Like many couples, they had to navigate the choppy waters of money management, transparency, and control. And then there was the issue of hunting gear and little blonde haired babies.

Having never lived together before their elopement, Cathy was unpleasantly surprised to find their temporary home (Rex’s bachelor pad) was overflowing with not-baby-safe hunting and fishing gear. She discovered a gun rack full of guns, a compound bow already loaded with sharp arrows, a footlocker brimming with paper goods so that an overnight trip to the river was always an option, and much more. She took it upon herself to start removing the items that would be dangerous for Baby Jen. Rex was incensed. He strutted over to his Dad’s house to tell on her and gather some manly moral support along the lines of how dare she, only to learn that his Dad had a surprising perspective. He reminded his son that he had just married a woman with a baby and what did he expect then he suggested that Rex just “Suck it up.”

Since Baby Jen, cloth truck seats peed on and everything, had already won Rex’s heart fair and square, that adjustment quickly became family legend and not an obstacle at all.

Building a house wasn’t the only big project the Fridays tackled early in their marriage. Cathy had an ambition since childhood to be an accountant. Employing their already well proven sense of teamwork, she and Rex made it happen. They continued to work full time, shared the household and parental duties, and, again, paid cash for Cathy’s entire college experience. She completed the program at UCO one class at a time and had their families’ support and encouragement along the way. In fact Ray took some classes of his own during this time and walked the processional with Cathy when she received her diploma.

LEARN

It bears mentioning that Rex and Cathy credit all of their elders for a great many blessings in their marriage. “We had a lot of input!” Rex quips. Their parents and grandparents showed up over and over again. They provided practical, tangible help, certainly. They banded together and literally showed their boy and their girl how to build a house from the ground up. They modeled how to grow an expansive vegetable garden and graft fruit trees, how to sew and make repairs and maintain vehicles and preserve food, how to hunt and fish and cook excellent meals. You name it. The joke goes that Cathy’s Dad left his DNA on the bones of their house from so many small injuries inflicted during the build, ha! And to this day Cathy references her Grandma, as if she had just recently visited and shared some homemaking tips.

But perhaps more importantly than all of this, their elders taught their boy and their girl how to build a thriving union. Longevity in marriage runs in both families, as do strong Christian values. When Rex and Cathy reminisce, their eyes shine with love and appreciation for their mentors and guides. They clearly still feel the love of their extended family, even those already gone, and they know they are the beneficiaries of all their immense wisdom.

PRAY

A shared faith was important criteria for both of them before they married. They started off equally yoked in this way but young in God and had to give each other lots of space and time to grow. Along the way, life afforded them plenty opportunities to try their faith, strengthen it, and discover their gifts.

Forty two years later, Cathy describes her husband as the steady one, a man quick to respond to a moment of crisis by saying, “OK, here’s what we’re gonna do. Give me your hands. We’re gonna pray about it.” She adds, with shimmering eyes and a light shrug of her petite shoulders, “He’s the husband I need.”

When asked how he stays so calm and confident, Rex also shrugs but looks a little embarrassed. “It’s just there. God said the Holy Spirit is in you.”

Prayerful living helped them face numerous health challenges, extreme weather, job loss, and myriad financial problems. They recall a trip to Colorado when they had to replace tires unexpectedly. The $400 price tag was more than they could afford, but they had no choice. As soon as they got home, they discovered a surprise bonus from Rex’s job for exactly $400. They both say this kind of thing happened all the time.

No matter the obstacle or how scary the problem, Rex and Cathy said, “We just hit our knees and prayed about it.” In this agreement, they look into each other’s eyes, visibly wistful to scan their memories and feel, together, their safety. They had lean times, for sure, and even felt poor here and there. But they laugh about that and speak affectionately of summer sausages and clementines for their fancy hiking meal. “We never missed a meal or a payment.”

They are both servants at heart. They still attend Wilmont Baptist Church, the same place Rex has called home since he was a baby. They are active and emotionally invested in the community there, which this year celebrates its centennial anniversary! Over these four decades, Rex and Cathy have taught Sunday school, participated in Bible studies, helped with property maintenance, and played church-bench surrogate grandparents to countless kids. The children there flock to “Mr. Rex and Miss Cathy.” This summer, for the first time, the pair anted up to work as kitchen crew for a group of campers at Falls Creek. They made a thousand happy memories, collected many glowing reviews for their delicious food, and said they would definitely volunteer again. They came home absolutely exploding with stories about how much fun they had just watching the kids enjoy their playful summer and feel surrounded by God’s love.

ADVENTURE

With this strong foundation built, The Fridays were able to stack up years and years worth of adventure. Rex’s natural leaning toward the rugged outdoors and Cathy’s natural leaning toward her ruggedly handsome guy joined them at the hip for all kinds of fun.

“I just like being with him. I’m happiest when I’m with Rex, and that’s where he’s happy,” Cathy says playfully of her willingness to endure tent life.

It certainly helped this thrifty pair that Rex’s parents owned a small cabin in Colorado which served perfectly as home base for countless backpacking, rock climbing, and snow skiing trips.

Another advantage was that after securing her degree and CPA’s license, Cathy’s newly lucrative profession occasionally included paid travel. One such trip was to Ft. Lauderdale for a conference. Among all the top tier destinations they found over the years, Rex counts that trip among the best. It was his first time flying and his first time staying in a luxury resort. He was simmering in pride for his pretty young wife’s accomplishments, and to reward himself for marrying so well he feasted day and night on the all-you-can-eat soft serve ice cream. As Cathy tells it, Rex was the only hotel patron who brought his own fishing gear from home and trekked it through the marble floored lobby.

Always calling Choctaw home, the Fridays expanded their horizons way beyond Oklahoma, Colorado and Florida. In 1999, together with Rex’s brother Russ and his then wife Teresa, they earned their SCUBA certificates and used them in the Bahamas, for starters. On their first trip to St. John’s they caught and grilled fresh fish, swam with sharks, and developed new appreciation for well water at home after witnessing the offsite cistern water supply there.

In recent years they have shared their love of diving with their now sixteen year old grandson Jaxon, the apple of their eyes. The trio is known to visit the deepest lakes in Oklahoma to get in his dive hours when they can’t make it to the Caribbean.

During the pandemic shut down, Rex and Cathy bought kayaks and indulged in lots of quality time together on nearby water. Their default setting really is “outside and together” whenever possible.

COOPERATE

If you know Rex and Cathy personally, then you already appreciate their energetic influence, both as individuals and as a couple. Though honestly, it’s hard to imagine them as completely separate. They have created a beautiful rhythm, a way of bringing their full selves to the union that makes it greater than the sum of its parts. When asked how long it took to reach this kind of harmony, Rex answered in his classic deadpan tone, “Oh not too long. About forty years.”

While they stress the importance of having shared interests and doing most things together, Rex and Cathy do keep a few hobbies and travel ideas just for one person or the other. Big city destinations like NYC or even Eureka Springs are more Cathy’s speed, so she enjoys those trips with Jen, now grown, or her girlfriends. And while Rex can lure Cathy outdoors for lots of wilderness time, his appetite for it all is much greater than hers, so he carves out additional time on the calendar for hunting season, short fishing trips, and the like.

They seem to have arrived at this happy medium organically. Each person truly wants to see the other happy. They tied this understanding to household duties, too, and the division of labor, acknowledging that the seasons within a year can be very different, as can the seasons of life. You just remain fluid and respond to each other’s needs and fun ideas. As for the work, they don’t have strictly assigned duties. From year to year or week to week, they simply pitch in and do what they are best at. From the beginning they have been a solid team, and they know how to get it all done.

“It’s like you finally learn the steps to the dance,” Cathy says. “Early on you want to impress each other. It’s all so intense. Now it’s an easy flow. You really do become almost like one person.” Rex nods sweetly in agreement.

LAUGH

This positive, harmonious inertia, plus a hearty sense of humor, have proven to be super powers for this couple. Being able to laugh at themselves as well as at stressful situations has helped them stay happy and make excellent memories.

On a recent extreme hiking excursion in the backwaters between Minnesota and Canada, they were caught in a cold, torrential downpour. Everything was soaked or washing away. Rather than complain, they made it fun. Rex performed a fashion show of his forest-friendly rain gear, and Cathy videoed him, providing commentary.

Spend any amount of time with this pair and you will find yourself laughing until your stomach hurts. They know how to mine the moment for humor. They know how to squeeze joy out of every situation. And their smiles and laughter are contagious.

NURTURE

When they are not working hard or adventuring harder, their favorite date nights stay pretty simple. This has served them well. They like casual meals, specifically those that Cathy doesn’t have to cook, maybe swimming if their pool is open, and cuddling at home with their dogs, watching movies. They are both avid gardeners and super creative in their own ways. Rex grills steak like nobody else, Cathy could be a pastry chef, and they both put a premium on quality time. Cathy remembers plenty fancy outings to see a musical or an art show, which have been wonderful indulgences; but mostly she wants to be, “just curled up on a couch with him.”

They also devote plenty of energy to others. The Friday house is a frequent gathering spot for friends and family, especially around the holidays. They always pull out all the stops to make people feel extravagantly welcomed and cared for. Over the years Rex and Cathy have cultivated an understanding for what details make people feel loved, what makes them continue to come back for more despite the long drive to Choctaw, and how to create core memories.

After a tragic loss in Cathy’s family, they even served as caretakers for her brother’s young children. When they share memories from those years it is always with lightness and joy in their voices, a sense that it was all a gift to them, not a burden. They shared their richly textured life with their nieces and nephews as much as possible and now get to love on that generation’s young kids.

“Happiness is a choice you make. This is life. You can let it wear you down or you can find something to make you laugh and be happy.” They are neither blind to grief nor impervious to stress, but they have learned the importance of choosing their mindset.

When asked what makes each of them feel like they won the marriage lottery, Rex nods his head in thought and stretches comfortably in his chair. “When she talks ya’ up. When she talks good about you and always looks at the high side.” Cathy is smiling demurely at him while he answers. He adds, laughing, “Just hearing complaints about other spouses, ha!”

Her answer is not much different. She is nourished by words of affirmation and says how much she thrives on his compliments when she looks nice or when he expresses appreciation for anything she does. Cathy then gushes, “Rex can do so many things. It astounds me! So many skill sets. And he can calm me down.”

During most of this long conversation, it is worth noting, they answer questions while gazing at each other, exploring memory lane together, nearly oblivious to anyone else in the room asking the questions.

They know each other better than anyone else does and had a few thoughts on what they wish the outside world understood about their spouse.

Cathy says of Rex, “He’s really not so harsh or grumpy. He is such a good guy. Sometimes he comes across rough. I wish people could see the soft Rex, the way he is with kids.”

Rex believes Cathy is mostly an open book and that people probably do understand her. “I think they see her.” But he adds that he would like more people to know that she put herself through school and did it on her own (though she asserts it was a team effort). “She had ambition,” he stresses, still so proud of that big accomplishment all these years later.

SHARE

The Fridays benefitted so much from the loving surround of their families, and they accepted the guidance so willingly, it is no wonder that they feel the urge to now share that wisdom.

They both feel strongly that church should continue to be a priority in a marriage and that husband and wife should pray together. Cathy shared a memory of her grandpa’s Bible, so well read and worn out that it was held together with duct tape. They hope to share their deep and hard earned faith with the next generation.

They also hope to pass down a healthy sense of humor about life. Work hard but learn to laugh. “Be kind even when people are different. It costs zero dollars to be kind,” Cathy encourages.

Rex’s life experiences have been so greatly enriched by learning artisan crafts and skilled labor that he deeply wants kids in the next generation to learn to do more with their hands, and he takes every opportunity to share his knowledge. He hopes they choose to become more self reliant.

Some specific advice they share is to seek out friendships with other married couples, the happier the better. Be wise about friendships with single people as well as anyone who complains a lot. Rex observes, “Your friends… they can influence a lot around you.”

“There are going to be rough times. Learn to step away and cool off,” Cathy urges. Rex nods.

When asked what advice they would give their newlywed selves, Rex says, “Everything is going to be ok. Keep that hair you lost.”

And Cathy answers, “Money’s not everything. Sometimes the best memories are bologna sandwiches and peeing in a bucket!” Everyone laughs.

One final bit of advice which they share almost in unison: “Don’t be in such a hurry to get everything in life. Be happy. Learn to build slowly and pay with cash.”

DREAM

What’s next for this dynamic duo that skipped work on a Friday to elope, some forty two years ago? Well, Rex is one year deep in retirement now, and Cathy is counting the milliseconds until she can join him. Just three more tax seasons! They would consider another trip together to the backwaters near Canada (affectionately known at the BWCA) and will almost certainly take more tropical resort trips. In the mean time they are perfectly happy grilling steaks and taking their beloved dogs on walks, carving out family time, and laughing their heads off.

You will not find a harder working, more family-centered and devoted couple. You will not find another couple better balanced to each other or more chemically alive when they are in the same room. That is quite a bit of magic after forty years, and we wish them the happiest of anniversaries.

Why? Because they’ve EARNED THIS.*

Much love to you, friends.
The whoel world is better because of you.
XOXOXO

*inside joke lol

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Filed Under: interviews, UncategorizedTagged: anniversary, friends, love, marriage

many plants, one beautiful green

July 28, 2024

Right now the back field contains at least four distinct shades of green. If you walk slowly and pay attention, you will see the blue-grey version of green in sage and cedar, the lime green of this glossy litlle ground cover I have not yet identified, the more serious olive green in prairie grass, and of course the deep and reliable green of cacti and pine. I love every single color plus all the blends and variations between them. I also love all the many textures that this wild vegetation offers.

I spend time regularly, just staring at the details up close. Analyzing and memorizing the differences. Normally I am entranced by separating and categorizing the details and differences around me, especially in nature. It’s fascinating! The Universe runs on variety and specialization, after all.

But lately my heart has been drawn to commonality. What really catches my attention is that from a distance, maybe standing next to the horse trough or at the upstairs hallway window, the back field blurs into a gorgeous, smooth July green. It looks like one color, one plant. A single vast carpet of photosynthesis.

I still walk the back field every day and take stock of the distinctions between plants and zones and habitats; but something inside my ribs swells to walk back uphill and see it all in a blur. From that small distance, one field. It’s a physical relief to me. A homecoming to togetherness.

I believe deep down that we humans have more in common with each other than we realize. I believe that, for all our beautiful distinctions and uniqueness between cultures and families and individuals, we share a great many features and qualities that bind us. This is as much a comfort to me as the blurred green field is.

Are you feeling the pressure building in polarization? I sure am. It hurts, and sometimes it’s deeply worrisome. But instead of feeding that energy, instead of keeping track of who I agree with on this topic or that newest conflict, instead of resting in labels and narrow definitions, I am choosing to focus on the things that I have in common with people who see a few things differently. I am doing my best to fortify connections instead of surrender to disagreement and hopefully remember that not only might I be flat wrong in my views but that we both could be fully right, at the same time.

I love to see and celebrate differences when it feels healthy and loving. But right now, with so much instability and widespread uprootedness, I feel drawn to hunting the common ground and calling it by name. I feel the urge to declare love for people, groups, even schools of thought, that are far apart and clearly different when you get really close and alanlyze them but that, when you pull back and see us all as a group, as a community, are part of the same thick, velvety green blanket.

Yes. Differences are real and nuance matters. Nature relies on it. But patterns and fundamental processes are also real. Nature relies on these just as much.

I hope to see this beautiful green back field thrive more and more, a vast collection of different plants that are all doing their best. All workign to have their needs met. All contributing in their own inique way to the ecosystem.

I love you, friends! Keep choosing Joy.
XOXOXO

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Filed Under: faith, UncategorizedTagged: choose joy, community, love, nature

we are the lucky ones

January 2, 2024

“We are the lucky ones,” my sister Angela reminds us gently. She often says this in a slightly hushed tone, happiness about life tempered with the realization that it might not have turned out this way.

Coming off of a particularly joyful and celebratory year, our family is well aware of how blessed and lucky we are. How different things could be, how beautiful life is. We still have dark valleys and shadows, and we still wrestle with unresolved trauma and unanswered prayers; but wow Love is here in the midst of us. Wow! We feel rescued and uplifted, filled with purpose and surrounded by comfort.

Last summer all one thousand of us (haha) gathered in Oklahoma to celebrate our parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary. This dovetailed into an engagement party for one of our sisters, and lots of hooping and hollering about nieces soon committing to college and wahoo the Navy bunch is back in the western hemisphere. A few months later we gathered again for Thanksgiving, which is peak feasting for a family this big. Somewhere in here we learned of a baby about to join the happy ranks. And over and over again jobs are secured and made even better, travel plans happen, health is restored, and Mom feeds us mightily for all kinds of reasons. We attend high school performances. We play games, uphold traditions, swim, trade names for Secret Santa and maintain the world’s wildest group chat, The only thing our Family at Large is not great at, it seems, is Zoom meetings. But man do we try.

On Christmas Eve, at Mom and Dad’s house, the sound track was pure laughter, dotted with raised voices and overlapping conversations. It is a private language only we know, and it is not for the faint of heart. I was in the kitchen, and Dad walked in. He said to no one in particular, “Man I would not want to be an outsider with THIS bunch!” He is so right. We love and welcome new people all the time, and our family prides itself on hospitality; but there is definitely a feral element to our core. We are a bit wild and very protective of each other.

To illustrate this: Even after more than twenty years, My husband and my brother’s wife are often caught at family events, huddled together, their eyes wide and watchful, like prey among predators, just catching their dang breath for a second, ok? Now they have a new member to indoctrinate into their subculture of in-laws, our little sister’s soon to be husband. Funny to me that a family of brown eyed blondes has chosen three green eyed brunettes. The thing is, this makes it easier to see who the outsiders are. Ha. Anyway, it’s the three of them now, against the rest of us. They’ll be fine. We chose well.

We are the lucky ones.

We are lucky enough to have warm, beautiful, comfort-filled homes. We are lucky enough to have all these amazing jobs that not only provide for our needs but also serve our communities and maximize our talents. We are lucky enough to have the foundation of church and extended family and cultural tradition, all the invisible things and memories that become our spiritual framework. We are lucky enough to know how to choose the best habits, cultivate relationships, play and work and forgive each other when we are not our best selves.

We are the lucky ones who still have our parents with us, loving us, hoping we can coordinate our fantastic lives often enough to not lose touch, As if any of of us could ever be happy without each other.

We are the lucky ones who actually enjoy being around our siblings and who are proud of each other’s accomplishments. We love our nieces and nephews so much, and probably each of us at some time feels like the favorite aunt or uncle, because we all make so many fun memories with these precious kids.

We are the lucky ones who can talk about loss openly, because we feel safe with each other. We can also talk about alcoholism and addiction, healing and recovery, and the terrifyingly thin veil that separates us in this warm, glittering life from a very different one.

We are the lucky ones who can support a long calendar year packed with colorful traditions. From Easter to anniversaries, school events, retirements and engagements, Thanksgiving, and the gift giving month of December, with all the delicious seasonal foods that connect our hearts and bellies, it all matters. And it does not come easily to everyone. We could do away with every bit of it and still call it a life, but this is LIFE. We are the lucky ones who have received this immense gift, and we appreciate it. We are so thankful to be passing this gift on to the next generation. Teaching the management of it to them, sharing the joys of it as it trades hands.

((thanksgiving 2023))

We are not perfect, and we are a lot. But we are certainly the lucky ones.

XOXOXO

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Filed Under: UncategorizedTagged: family, gratitude, love, traditions

fifty years xoxoxo

October 25, 2023

Tomorrow my parents reach their Golden Anniversary. What a milestone! What an increasingly rare and beautiful thing.

((from when they renewed their vows in the Church))

Every year, it seems our age difference, already relatively small, shrinks a little more. Their nearness both to retirement and now this incredible moment in marriage are overwhelming to me. Joyful. Inspiring. Most of all, it’s humbling, because I know these fifty years have not been easy. Life itself has been hard won for them, and health and peace and family have been an ongoing art project for them together. Constantly evolving. Constantly responding to changes on the outside, changes on the inside.

I remember interviewing them, together with my youngest brother, for the Pandemic Stories project. Mom shared that she was prepared to give Dad his favorite meal (liver and onions) in case they were not going to survive. A last meal, allow me stress, like they were on Death Row. She was unbelievably stoic about this. And Dad said that the overall shut down proved to him that everyone is “an essential worker.” He expounded that the whole world operates on the premise that everyone’s contribution matters in a crucial way. They shared these two insights so matter of factly, so devoid of humor or sheen, that I thought, maybe for the first time in my life, that Joe and Alison are actual mortal people with unique world views.

So weird. I have always thought they were just Mom and Dad.

((Mom, baby me, and Dad, circa 1974))
((Mom and Dad with Muddles, my replacement))

I try hard to look over these past fifty years to take an inventory of marital joys and sorrows and accomplishments, of highs and lows and favorite memories they might have, maybe also of worst fears they overcame together. I try, now knowing they are fully formed people, to see their individual evolution, their arcs. But even with my insider scoop I barely know their hearts. I only recently learned they are human, you see, so this is a new thought process.

Even with a limited perspective, there is so much available to admire. I see decades of efforts to be not just good neighbors but the best. Our house and back yard were exactly where the entire neighborhood wanted to be. Our front porch is where people felt safe and welcomed to stop by and talk or share a pizza if they were locked out. Mom has always gone out of her way to be friendly to everyone, even if they were not so friendly in return. We always had holiday decorations and pretty gardens and just general, simple hospitality.

I look back and see innumerable home improvements over time, most of which Dad did by himself or with help from one or two of his skilled brothers, everyone teaching themselves and each other as they went. I wish I could show you everything he has created over the years. Beautiful stuff. Same with Mom’s gardens. Lush and cheerful and ahead of her time with health and environmental concerns, just like Grandpa. And she grew everything on a shoestring.

((Thousands of prayers for these kids who are growing so fast…xoxo))
((Our Dad built this swing set for us when I was still in middle school. Now the little kids love it, and I bet they don’t even know that once I fell from and busted my head open and got stitches.))

I see all those holiday dinners and traditions that should have been impossible for so many reasons, but they are some of my happiest and most glittering memories. Easter baskets and new lacy dresses, hand dyed eggs, handmade Christmas stockings, evergreens from the Knights of Columbus tree lot, Advent candles and tray after tray of symbolic fruits and nuts. Private school for years. Music lessons and sports and so many clubs and proms and vehicles for five children. Good grief. And now grandkids! How they keep up with everyone is a mystery, but I do really like our group texts, ha!

When I reinterpret childhood memories from the perspective of a married woman, especially with my complicated story, I see that somehow Mom and Dad navigated in-law relationships like professional diplomats. Our house was like Switzerland, bright and neutral in the best ways. We fully loved every single person everywhere, never sensing hostility or competition or anything. They just made peace and warmth available to anyone who wanted to be part of it. And as a result, both sides of our big family mingled together very naturally. True, it might have helped that Mom and Dad essentially grew up together and therefore embraced each other’s families of origin and theirs, not his and hers. But still. People are people, and it is sometimes complicated. Just not with them. Mom and Dad both have ceaselessly shown us how to welcome everybody to the table, to the party, to the family. We have sure tried to follow this lead. We have not always done so perfectly; but the example stands, and the spirit inspires.

I look back and can easily count way more family traditions they helped us cultivate than couple traditions they held privately. Unless maybe they kept those to themselves? They did for a while have Christopher’s Steak House on their short list of date night destinations. It is a very real pleasure for me to now see them enjoying each other’s company so much. They have more time now, with fewer needy people circling their tired legs. Although something tells me they miss it a tiny bit?

((from their 40th anniversary party!!))

I will get this wrong, but by my estimation Mom and Dad have cared for about eight dogs through the years, plus at least three cats that I remember. That has to be wrong; it feels like it should be a much higher number. We had parakeets briefly. Also one ferret that nobody remembers except me. That’s a whole thing. Do not get me started.

In fifty years, as far as I know, Dad has only driven two trucks. The original yellow Chevy was practically a family member. An ill- fated frog once got stuck inside it, in the hollow vertical steel frame behind the seat. I still get a pang of nostalgia if I see a similar Chevy truck in the wild. It is so irreplaceable that at this moment I could not, not for a million dollars, describe to you what he currently drives. We will pull up to a family event and I’ll say, “I wonder if Dad’s here yet,” and my husband will look at me like I’m nuts and say, “That’s his truck. It is right there.” Then I shrug. It’s like my brain refuses to accept this new vehicle. Same for Mom. I still think she drives that tan-with-blue-velvet-interior passenger van with seven hundred bench seats. That van was primo for class field trips and even better for family road trips to Florida during which I could lure my little sister into using permanent marker for eyeliner.

Industry comes to mind. Reflecting on all the many jobs our parents have held over the years, I am awed at all the skills they have learned and humbled by their unrelenting work ethic. From offices to food service and retail, accounting, warehouses, lumber yards (when I was four I thought Dad owned 84 Lumber in Texas), corporate property management and much more, they have carved and polished, built and repaired, constantly improved the world just by showing up to work. This doesn’t even cover Village Art Lamps, the family business they built together with our grandparents. It sustained not just our young family but hundreds of others, for almost my entire childhood. It is still bizarre to me that the building on south Walker is gone, but those amazing memories are forever. Nobody on earth can outwork my Dad. Nobody is more gracious and flexible, more accommodating, that my Mom. They outdo each other constantly with humility and humor.

In fifty years there have been so many storms and shifting seasons. How they have stayed sane through five children’s overlapping life crises is amazing. How they braved our adolescent years when they were barely healed from their own is an even greater one. Now, with the original five plus our expansion teams spinning in so many various orbits around the world, they must wake up every day and just take a panicky inventory of where all the pieces of their hearts are scattered. I hope that is more often a good feeling than a sad one. They deserve, more than anyone I know, to feel as happy as possible for as long as possible.

I recently had a heart to heart with a dear friend and was able to say, “I think it is rare that I have a great Mom and Dad. Nobody else seems to like theirs.” This has always been true, but what is even truer now is that I have my parents at all. None of us has to look very far from where we sit to see fatherless or motherless children, old and young. To have both of our parents not just alive but healthy and engaged and very interested in all of our ever-changing worlds, what a blessing. Things could have been so different. And it can always change in one phone call, so I love to savor it.

((Mom and Dad with our entire family, missing only three of the grand kids. Baby Connor was asleep and my two girls were back in Oklahoma. ))
((reunion summer 2023, we are growing again!!))

No doubt, there have been times they put on a happy face for everyone else’s benefit. And no doubt they have at times felt disappointed and hurt; maybe feeling like the return on their lifetime investment has come up a little short. I for one have been excruciatingly hard on them from time to time, before I learned they are human people just like me. I try to be nicer now, because being human I hard and they are doing great.

They have suffered plain old loss, too, like anyone. My Dad was just 32 when he lost his Mom and 43 when he lost his Dad. I had no concept in those years, how young this was. How rudderless a person might feel. I just missed my grandparents. I didn’t even think about my Dad missing his parents. Mom was 59 when Grandpa Stubbs passed, but we lost Grandma much earlier. Mom was just 38, and they were very close. These are momentous life changes that I really have not considered until recently.

The following is not mine to say, not really, but I’ll risk it: Vividly knowing all four of my grandparents’ personalities and living so happily as Joe and Alison’s firstborn, I feel like Rex & Mary Jo and Jack & Louise would all be so proud of all the intense parenting and grand parenting their children have done in the years since they left. From where I stand, all of my grandparents’ wonderful values live on, and they live on, and they live on. Because of my parents.

This past summer at a preemptive anniversary party while the whole crew was in Oklahoma, we all played the Newlywed Game. Mom and Dad sat up front, each with a small white board. We all took turns firing a wide variety of questions at them then had lots of fun watching them compare their answers. Turns out they know each other pretty dang well. One exchange sticks out. Someone asked, “If money were no object, where would you go for your fiftieth anniversary?” Mom’s answer was, “An Alaskan cruise!” Dad, being Dad, literally wrote a list of about 9 places around the globe, ha! He said placidly, “You said money was no object.” We exploded in laughter, but now just typing this I feel like crying. We all have had so many opportunities to see the world, and they have happily forfeited most of theirs for us.

One of my most vivid hopes in life is that they soon reach a moment where they will not just retire comfortably but also pursue fully some of the cravings and impulses they have quieted for five decades. Their lives have been about everyone else for so long. I hope they can put themselves first more, and soon. We all do.

The older I get, the more I realize that I joke around the most when I am in pain, and being a lot like my Dad in other ways (casual compliment to myself there) I wonder if this is true for him, too. If so, then he has been in pain for most of his life but never said so outright. This familial language of teasing and taunting has made our character fabric a little more like good denim than silk, which is fine by me. Better, actually. But I do hope he is ok. And I am amazed by how many years he has managed to keep pushing through family emergencies and health scares and financial roller coasters and splintered relationships, all the time just speed walking, whistling, power napping, and throwing zingers.

Having a young Mom is wonderful, and as I mentioned, the older we both get, the closer in age we feel. But there is a downside. When I was in middle school I had a crush on a boy who lived down the street from us. He was several years older than me and had a crush on Mom, who by his estimation was not much older than him. She had Farrah Fawcett hair right when Farrah Fawcett hair was the coolest thing on the planet, and she was a beautiful, energetic young woman who made everyone feel welcome. So that was wildly annoying. I am pretty sure he gave up, got his braces removed, and joined the military. Other than that, having young parents is the best, from the child’s perspective.

It is obvious to me that they both chose this path consciously, not just once before I was born, but repeatedly since then, when Ego or Ambition or Exhaustion, or some raging social norm, might have veered them way off course, getting them to pursue other goals or lifestyles. Both Mom and Dad could have pursued and achieved anything else with their life, but we are all so lucky that they have chosen, week after week and year after year after year, to devote themselves to their marriage and their family. It all sure did grow. That cute little wedding in October of 1973 sure did firm up into an establishment.  An acorn into an oak tree.

Happy fiftieth wedding anniversary, Mom and Dad. We are all forever in your debt. And we love you so much!

XOXOXOXO

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Filed Under: UncategorizedTagged: anniversary, golden, love, marriage, parents

happy 28th birthday to my girl

September 7, 2023

You are twenty eight tomorrow. Twenty eight!

I remember your twenty first birthday. And before that, the day you first left for Colorado. I thought it would only be a few months, a seasonal internship.

Even earlier, the day you called me from Target. “I’m free,” you said. Your year of cross country. Your driver’s license and graduation. Your emergency appendectomy and volleyball games and love of horses and dogs and iguanas. Your Australian Outback birthday party. Your favorite pajamas and the way you loved to smell like vanilla bath products and how tireless you were in the pool. My little bronze fish. The summer you made a habitat for roly polys and wrote a care schedule that included “freedom time.” How precisely and imaginatively you played Pokemon and Zoo Tycoon. How fiercely protective you have always been of your little sister. Your first day of Kindergarten. Your first wobbly steps on that red carpet in our second apartment.

.

Of course I remember so vividly first seeing your delicate self and holding you and nursing you. That first night was perfect. You were perfect.

I remember the terrifying day I first learned I was pregnant and then the thrilling night a few months later when I had that vivid dream of your beautiful face, yet unseen. That dream was accurate; you were soon born looking exactly as it showed me, and it was only the beginning of vivid dreams about you. I have dreamt of you more than anyone in my life. Just a few weeks ago I had a very specific and encouraging dream about you that I have only told one person. I would love to tell you about it. The details have been shimmering in my body.

I also remember every separation, both small and brief like the first day of school or a difficult drop off  at day care or your Dad’s house. Certainly the longer, more traumatic goodbyes are etched in my memory.

I remember how it felt to hope and pray and worry all those years. I still feel these in cycles but have learned to worry less, to instead trust and imagine you as happy as possible.

I have so many beautiful memories of reuniting with you. I will forever be buoyed by the immense, overwhelming joy of seeing you happy and in your element.

On Trail Ridge Road, June 2015.

Many years ago I glanced at a belief system which holds that not only are human souls eternal, which means that each of us has always existed somewhere and could be born to anyone, at any time; but also that children choose their parents. I don’t know how to reconcile that.

a Christmas memory from during the Colorado years

Occasionally someone will ask me how long it has been since I have seen you, and I have to really think. Not because I don’t care or keep track, but because in a very literal sense you are always with me. I probably think about you more than anyone in my life.

You are the first person I pray for every day. You are the first person my thoughts find in a quiet moment. Alone with our animals all day long, I talk to them about you. I make sure that Dusty and Chanta especially hear your name plenty, for when you come home.

I still listen to music you shared with me in Colorado, mostly Skrillex while running. If I cook something you might like, your slim body and enormous brown eyes are with me in the kitchen. I imagine you getting all worked up about the ingredients and aroma but getting full after barely half a plate, ha!

grinning up a storm while campaigning for me
to drink some Gatorade rife with chia seeds.

Anything with a spiral shape belongs to you because you were once so passionate about the beauty of the Fibonacci Sequence.

When I hear anyone tell stories of Colorado, I think possessively, that is hers. You will always be Colorado to me. Snowball fights in April, under moonlight on Trail Ridge Road, hiking to Gem Lake and Angel Pass, through wildflowers and innumerable trees. Living with bears but not worrying because Bridget has it under control.  Remodeling your first cabin. It was tiny and perfect and strong, just like you.

I keep photos of you close as well as childhood toys and clothes. I use your patchwork twin quilt all the time but might need to stop, because it is threadbare now. I stopped buying gifts for you at holidays only because I think rationally of where you are in life now and realize I have no idea what you need anymore. A stack of gifts sits unopened in the Apartment closet. But I still have the urge to shower you with gifts every Christmas and every birthday. A basketful of treats at Easter. I would so truly love to watch movies with you and cook daal again and let you paint the Apartment for me this winter. A mural of your own imagining.

You occupy so much space in my heart, and have so constantly for more than twenty eight years, that the cold hard “fact” of not being in your life right now feels bizarre and unreal. So when people ask me, I fish for the answer and add up the months. I feel the nausea.  Sometimes shame too, because how could a mother survive being apart from her firstborn this long? Sometimes fear, both that you are better off without me and that you are not. Two awful possibilities. I always return to Love and Hope.

Is time elastic for you?

I believe firmly that it is, and that Love stretches and fills the space, the calendar, in weird ways I can barely comprehend, let alone explain.

Had someone told me when I first dreamed of your face that a time would come that I didn’t see you in the flesh for this long, I… Well I cannot say what I would have done, but it would have been incomprehensible to me. It still is, and yet.

You have proven your independence and your inner fire so many times, in ever more daring and beautiful ways. You have survived more pain, abuse, close calls, and disappointment than most people know, and I am sure there is much no one knows at all. But there is also a wealth of Joy and experiences we would all love to hear about.

Jocelyn, you are finally past so much. You are so loved, not just me but by a big family who misses you. You are so filled with talent and strength and beauty. This world was made infinitely better when you joined it. You have a terrifying life force for which I have always been grateful. Now more than ever.

I trust that you have made a beautiful and genuine home for yourself. I trust that if you are dating anyone, you feel like you can be yourself with them and are receiving all the love and respect in the world. You are so good at making friends and maintaining community. I trust that your friends appreciate that they have in their midst one of this world’s finest artists, most loyal companions, and smartest adventurers. I trust that you are doing work that brings you more money than you need so you can play and explore and enjoy your life. I trust that Bridget still loves to hike and that she still fetches rocks. I miss her too.

If your thoughts turn to me, to home, to anyone here, may they be warm and strong and feel good. A woman should always feel most at home with herself, of course, but I pray that you feel at home here again too, in your own time. May your memories and curiosities about Home assure you that you are safe here, that you are only loved, and that a lot has happened in the past few years to bring peace, healing, and understanding. Room for life to grow for everyone.

I hope someone is helping your birthday feel extra special this year. You deserve it.

I love you so much, baby.
Happy 28th birthday!
XOXOXO

8 Comments
Filed Under: jocTagged: birthday, jocelyn, love

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Hi! I'm Marie. Welcome to the Lazy W. xoxo

Hi! I’m Marie. This is the Lazy W.

A hobby farming, book reading, coffee drinking, romance having, miles running girl in Oklahoma. Soaking up the particular beauty of every day. Blogging on the side. Welcome to the Lazy W!

I Believe Strongly in the Power of Gratitude & Joy Seeking

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