One year today. My tribute to my friendship with LeRae.

I've really dreaded today, because I knew how hard it was going to be. The first year is definitely the hardest - I know this from past experience. Losing LeRae has been exceptionally hard for me. She was like a sister to me, and there was never a limit on what we could, or would talk about with each other. There was really no limit to what (or who) we wouldn't laugh at, or about, either, including each other. . . . I got to thinking yesterday, how I don't want today to be so sad, and somber, so I started going back through a lot of the photographs from our wanderings - most of which I haven't really been able to make myself look at, until now. At first, I was afraid they'd make me sad, but the more I looked, the more I found myself smiling, and even laughing out loud. We girls did have us some fun, there's no doubt about it. And while I'm so sad that my friend is gone, I'm so very thankful we got to have those few, short years together. I know, that in those few years, we had more fun, more laughs, and saw more places than a whole lot of people get to see in their entire lives. And that's saying something. I wouldn't trade one minute, or one mile, not one dirt road, or one spooky old house - not one second of it. Not for a million bucks. I have LeRae to thank for all those miles, and memories. Without her in my life, I'd still be doing the same ol' nothing I was doing before. Without her, I never would have had the courage to do portrait work on my own. I always wanted to, but, believe it or not, I'm still kind of shy sometimes, and she always knew the right thing to say to get me motivated, and make me believe I was good enough to get out there, and do it. Having her for a best friend was beyond awesome, and having her as a business partner was the icing on the cake.

I remember the day I bought my first brand, new truck. LeRae went with me, and I think everyone at the dealership thought we were nuts (they were right). We had half the staff in that place cracking up, but I'm sure some were grateful when we finally left. LeRae was kind of quiet afterwards, and I knew exactly what she was thinking - that since I'd just bought a brand new truck, we weren't going to go to some of the fun places like we had before. Two days later, we were off roading (very literally) out behind Ft. Cobb lake. We were pretty bored, because the lake was super low, and there hadn't been much to look at, much less take pictures of. We were about ready to call it a day, when LeRae spotted a dirt road, and said, "Let's try that one." I was game, and off we went. It didn't take very long to realize this wasn't your typical dirt road, but once started, we were pretty much committed to going forward - there was no turning around, and no backing up. What we realized, a little too late, that it wasn't really a "road". It was a fire trail, leading to places around the lake where most people really weren't supposed to go. Well, we went. We had a few close calls, and actually got a few scratches on my brand new truck, but oh my God did we have fun! I kept saying how my husband would kill me, if he could see where we were taking that brand new truck, and she kept finding more trails for us to follow. Thankfully, we always found a loop at the end, so we could get back out. When we finally found the blacktop again, I looked at her and said: and you thought we wouldn't have fun anymore!

Another great day, was on our way back from Roosevelt, and Cooperton, Oklahoma. We had gotten some really great pictures that day, but of course, were still looking for cool old barns, and houses on our way home. I spotted one, and started slowing down, then saw something else. LeRae says: I see what you're looking at!, and I said: no, you don't - there's a snake! I want that snake! (meaning I wanted pictures, not the actual snake!). I pulled into the drive leading to that old house, and started towards the snake, who was sunning itself in the middle of the highway. I got about half the way there, and realized it wasn't just a bull snake - it was a rattlesnake! I hollered at LeRae, and she came running. She crossed to the other side of the road, and we proceeded to snap away. The snake wasn't really being all that interesting, as he was just laying there, so LeRae looks at me, and says: Make it do something. . . . . Do something? What do you want me to make it do???? She says, I don't know - just make it do something! So me, being the really intelligent person I am, starts picking up rocks, and chunking them at the snake. The next few minutes resulted in LeRae laughing her ass off, while I ran for my life. . . .

If I could actually string two sentences together, and not make myself sound like an complete hillbilly, I'd write a book about our travels. I'm not sure many people would actually read it, but it would be interesting, to say the least.

We two girls had fun. That we did. And that's what I want to remember today, and every day, when I think of my friend. I will remember her smile, I will remember her laugh, and I will remember her super wicked sense of humor. I will remember I had the best friend ever, and that even though she's gone, she'll always be here with me. I hope that's the way you'll remember her, too.

Just one phone call. . .

Twice this past couple of weeks, I've been rudely reminded my friend is no longer with me. The first time, I was asked to display some of my photographs at an arts festival. I was so excited, and the first person I wanted to call was LeRae. I wanted to share that with her, knowing she'd be excited for me, as well. I also knew she'd be there with me, the day of the showing, supporting me, and making sure, in her not-so-subtle way, everyone knew who took those particular photos. The second rude reminder came when I was looking for a certain picture - taken on one of our road trips - but I couldn't remember which trip it was. I knew she would remember (she always did!), so I picked up the phone to call her. Only after I had started to dial her number did I realize, she wasn't there anymore. I could call her number all day long, and she wouldn't pick up. That hit me like a train. Even when you know, it's hard to break a habit like that. The habit I had of being able to call her, and share fun, and exciting news, or to ask her a question. The habit of having her there.

What I'd give to have one last phone call. Just to dial her up, and hear her voice on the other end. Even if it was just to ask her, "Are you ok? Are you happy?" While deep in my heart, I know she is, to actually hear it from her would make such a difference. Yes - I know that's not possible - at least not in this life. I'll have to wait for the next. . .

Missing my friend

I lost my dearest friend on earth on May 4, 2014. It's been one of the hardest things I've ever had to deal with, second only to losing my son, and my grandmother, in 1993. LeRae was more than just a friend - she was also my business partner, my confidant, and a sister I had always wanted. We were so much alike, yet different in so many ways, but we both had a love of photography that not only cemented our friendship, but took us on many fun, and amazing adventures (amazing to two country gals, like ourselves). 

It's hard to lose someone you talked to every day. Someone you looked up to, counted on, and loved. Before LeRae, and I became such good friends, I had spent most of my time alone, as my husband works oilfield (as did her fiancé), and is gone the majority of the time. I was used to being alone, and I was ok with it. But after having such a good friend to hang with, being alone is hard. I've forgotten how to do that. I sometimes find myself wandering aimlessly around the house, wondering what I'm supposed to do with myself. I want to text her, call her, hear her voice. I want her to take road trips with me, give me advice, tell me to suck it up when I'm feeling sorry for myself, or just sit, and listen when I simply need someone to talk to. I want to share my joys, my fears, and sorrows, and the pictures I took with her. I miss that so much. So very much.

It's really hard to put into words the depth of this loss for me. It's like losing half of myself. Probably my better half. LeRae always had a way of making me feel better, no matter what was going on in my life, and I'm pretty sure I did that for her, too. We had so much in common with our kids, our oilfield life, and our photography. We both knew loss very well. We both knew loneliness, but we both had a toughness that comes from those losses, and that aloneness. And we had fun together. I've never had anyone make me laugh as much as she did - laugh hard enough I'd have to pull over to the side of the road to wipe the tears from my eyes, and wait for my sides to quit hurting. That, I will miss forever. 

Not a day goes by I don't think about my friend. There are days I miss her so much it makes me ache physically. You can't lose someone that special, and not have it affect your every day life. You just can't, because there's a hole in the middle of your soul nothing else can fill. But I know she's still with me in many ways. I can feel her presence around me, and at times, I think I can faintly hear her voice telling me to keep going. Keep moving forward. So I try to do that. 

So. . . . for however long it takes for me to get my head right again, I'm going to use this blog as an outlet for my grief, and as a place to share the memories of my dear friend. I have several letters I penned to her in the weeks following her death, and I may, or may not publish them here. I may not write often, but I will when the need arises. I hope ya'll don't mind. 

"Sticks, and stones can break my bones"

I am a person who often struggles to find the right words to say on many occasions. I might mean to say one thing, but say another, and may say something else, and it not come out at all like I planned. And even if I do say what I actually mean to say, it can be taken completely out of context by the listener, and take on a whole different meaning. It's even worse, if you're "talking" on the internet. People can't hear your tone, or see your body language, and what you meant as an off-handed remark, could come off as callous, or sarcastic. Let's face it - words can make us laugh, or make us cry, make us mad, or embarrass us. Words can bring comfort. Words can also hurt. Each, and every one of us is guilty of opening our mouths, before we engage our brains, and sometimes the words we spit out, can't be taken back, no matter how much we'd like to. Words can be more dangerous a weapon than a gun, and can truly, in some cases, do more damage than a gunshot wound. Where a lot of physical wounds can be healed, a lot of emotional wounds cannot. While a gunshot can damage the flesh, words can damage the soul.

I'm quite sure I'm not the only parent who has flown off the handle, and said things to my children I should not have said. But the look in that child's eyes when you do this, is enough to squeeze your chest so tight, it makes it hard to breath. You know, the second the words fly out of your mouth, they were the wrong thing to say, and even if you fall on your knees, and tell that child how sorry you are, you can't take away the sting of those words. You can gloss over the situation, and a child will usually forgive you - they're just so good about that when they're little - but trust me - somewhere, deep down, they'll remember. We, as parents, need to realize we're the adults, and as such, we should think before we speak. Don't break a child's spirit with a miss-spoken word. I'm sure we all remember what that felt like when we were children. I know I do. Words can stick with a person long after the conversation is over.

Miss-spoken words between the best of friends can end a friendship as fast as the sentences come out of your mouth. It doesn't matter if you're pissed off, or who did what to whom, if you're truly good friends, you shouldn't say words to intentionally inflict pain. Friends don't do that. Friends should talk. Husbands, and wives should talk. Because as much as words can hurt, they can also help someone to heal. They can lift up a spirit that is torn, and broken. They can make a child feel pride in an accomplishment. They can make a husband feel appreciated. They can make a wife feel loved. They can make a complete stranger feel worthy.

We should teach our children the value of words, so they will know to not use words as a weapon. They should know how to use words to lift someone up, calm someone down, make a point without being hurtful, defend themselves, if necessary without being nasty. They should learn to never, ever use words to bully someone. They should learn to use words as a means to work things out, instead of escalating a situation. They should learn to use words as an art to communication.

Whoever coined the phrase "Sticks, and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me" had very little knowledge of how powerful, and hurtful words can really be. Sticks, and stones can indeed break your bones, but words can break something so much more fragile.

Be still, and listen. . . .

(I wrote this before the power came back on this morning. Actually written by hand, with a pen, on real paper! What a novel idea!)

Sitting here tonight, reading by candle light, makes me stop, and think about the younger generation. For, with all the technology they have, they'll never truly understand just all they DON'T have - what all they've missed.

The simple pleasure of sitting in the quiet darkness, with only the wind of the storm as my music, fills my soul with a peace I can't describe. With all of the gadgets, and technology silenced, I realize they could never, ever replicate "real" life - could never compare to this. The young people of today can't imagine their lives without television, computers, and smart phones, yet being here like this tonight, I find I don't miss them at all. With my dogs at my feet, and  the darkness, and snow blanketing my windows, I'm enjoying a serene, quiet that is hard to come by these days, and I am awed by it. I think this is where people can hear God. He is here tonight, all around me, and it saddens me to think the noise, and bustle of today's world keeps so many from feeling Him. Keeps them from seeking Him. Keeps them from hearing Him. The paradox here is, that with everything going on in the world today, this is when we all need Him the most.

Though I will freely admit I was more than slightly annoyed when the power went off, it really makes me think all this technology is much more coveted, than it is necessary. While all of these amenities are convenient, I can't help but think how nice it would be to go back to a more simple life. A life where families sat together at the dinner table without the television blaring in the background, or the kids being constantly distracted by text messages, or Facebook notifications. A life where you sat down, and wrote letters to friends, and loved ones. A life where you could leave the house without feeling you have to have a cell phone, or iPad, or Kindle. A life where, if you thought you had to cheat in class, it consisted of notes inked on your hand, and not cleverly hidden in a wireless device, that can find answers in mere seconds. Or maybe where you actually had to study for a test, rather than fetching your answers from the world wide web. A life where you couldn't build false bravado behind a computer screen to bully people  you don't even know.  A life that might actually be a little tougher, but would be oh-so-much more meaningful. A life that would build character, instead of dependence on technology, and devices, and "stuff".  A quieter life. A quiet where more people could stop long enough to hear the wonderful, natural world around them. A quiet where people would listen. Maybe then we could hear God again.   

One More Day. . .

Always tell those you love that you love them, every day. You never know when that last "I love you" will be THE last one. Tell people you appreciate them, and you're glad they're part of your life. Never take anything for granted, especially time, because none of us really know how much time we have on this earth.

I got a call from a friend this morning, telling me something was going on at one of the neighbor's houses down the road. There were ambulances, and county deputies there. She texted me later to tell me our neighbor Ron had collapsed, and was on his way to the hospital. We immediately sent up prayers. Several minutes later, my friend texted me again, to tell me Ron had passed away. I was instantly numb with shock, and broke down in tears, even though we were never really close with those neighbors. I have always liked, and respected them very much, but hadn't spent much time with them. Now it's too late. I'll never be able to tell Ron how much I appreciated him putting up with all my calls asking which wild critters I could shoot to protect my live stock. I'll never be able to tell him how much I appreciated him keeping an eye on our property, to keep out the idiots who liked to sneak in, and fish our pond without permission. I'll never be able to tell him how much I appreciated him checking in on my niece when she lived down the road from us, with an abusive boyfriend, or how much safer I felt being out here by myself, knowing he was just a phone call away. And now, I'll never get to really know him.

I'm so sad for Ron's family - his wife, his children, and his grandchildren, who will never know their grandpa. I feel sad for his mother, because I too, know what it's like to lose a son. I'm sad for their loss, especially knowing what they've gone through, in this year of horrors for our little neighborhood. I send up prayers for Ron's family, for strength to endure this heartbreak, and for the strength to carry on, and continue their rebuilding, since the tornadoes. I pray they find peace.

I've always known death can be sudden, and unexpected. I've always known it can happen to anyone, at any time. We got that dreaded phone call in 1993, when our son was killed in a repelling accident, so you'd think that would be enough of a wake up call, so to speak. And it was. For a while. We tend to get complacent with our lives, and the lives of others, forgetting, or opting to not think about how suddenly we can lose someone we love. We don't think to thank God every day for allowing us one more day. One more day to spend on this earth. One more day to spend with those we love. One more day.

But how many "one more days" do we have? No one knows the answer to that question, so we need to be more appreciative for what we have, and we need to appreciate it every, single day.  We need to wake up, and learn to smell the roses. We need to learn to live life with gusto, and stop being so afraid of everything. Death will come to us all, no matter how careful we are, so we need to LIVE while we still have time. Those of us who believe need to thank God for the time we have, and for those people in our lives who make our lives worth living. And life IS worth living.

So before you go to bed tonight, or when you wake up in the morning, take a deep breath, and thank God you're still breathing, and that your loved one's are still breathing. Thank God for today, and every day, because we never know when it will be our last. Be thankful for your family, and friends. Be thankful you have one more day.

Everything happens for a reason. . . . .

They say, everything happens for a reason. I don't know who "they" are, but I've questioned them a lot. What the heck do "they" know, anyway? Who are they, and what makes them so smart? Well. . . . I guess they know more than I give them credit for sometimes, as hard as that might be for me to admit.

I know I've blogged a lot about the tornado, but it's had a big impact on my life. We're moving on, and getting back to normal, so to speak, but there are still days when I look at how different our place, and our neighborhood is now, that I wonder why something like this happened. I know it's just one of those things - bad things happen to people, and most of the time, we find no rhyme or reason for it. "Stuff happens," as the saying goes. You take it on the chin, you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and go on. Life knocks you on your rear end sometimes, but you deal with it.

But. . . . . there are things that have happened as a direct result of the tornado that wouldn't have happened otherwise, and I am very thankful for that. If not for the tornado, I wouldn't have gotten to know some of my neighbors as well as I know them now. Like the Comers, who I've talked to in the past, but never really talked to, if you know what I mean. They are awesome people - very down to earth, and good people. And my neighbor Miranda, who is as good, and nice a person as I've ever met. She lived a quarter mile down the road from me for several years, and I had talked to her all of once, in all that time. I've found I really enjoy talking to her, and have more in common with her than I would have imagined. We both have a penchant for muscle cars, and photography, and we both have the same soft spot in our hearts for our state, and our community. We both also seem to enjoy blogging, although I think Miranda is much better with the written word than I am. As a matter of fact, if you've read my earlier blogs, she's the one who inspired me to get started. I'm glad I've gotten to know some of my neighbors better. They're truly good people, and I've missed that all these years.

Also as a result of the tornado, I've somehow become a more patient, and understanding person. I don't know where this new-found patience came from, but I think I kind of like it. I tend to think before I speak these days, instead of just flying off the handle - a thing I've been very good at over the years. I'm not saying I don't still have my melt-down moments, but not like before. I've learned to be more accepting of people who, for some reason, I had no tolerance for in the past. I've learned that there are a lot of good people around me, if I'd just take the time to get to know them a little bit. Things, and people aren't always as they first appear, and first impressions can really be deceiving. Just because someone is different than you, certainly doesn't make them less. We need to take more time to really get to know someone before we start judging them. Shame on me for doing that.

I've become closer to my family since the storms. There's nothing quite like huddling in your storm shelter, knowing your son is across the way, sitting all alone in his. Pretty scary stuff, and definitely not something I want to do again. I said a lot of prayers while in the cellar that day, and I have to say, all of them were answered. EVERY.SINGLE.ONE. In spite of all the damage, I still have everyone, and everything around me that really matters. God blessed me more that day than the storms damaged me, that's for sure.

Other things have happened since the storms that wouldn't have happened otherwise. When Cimarex sent the crew out here to help us with clean up, those guys were so cool, and so nice, and so awesome. They helped do things they didn't have to do, like clean out our pond, and rebuild the dam. There's just no way we would have ever had the money to get that done, and get it done as well as what they did. They listened when I told them "I'd really like to keep that tree, if possible," and didn't just go willy nilly through the canyons knocking things down. They understood how much it hurt to see all those trees go, and how much it meant to us to keep the one's we could. They went above, and beyond, and I thank them so much for that. They'll never know how much they contributed to our being able to move forward, and have some peace of mind.

So, maybe "they" know what they're talking about after all, especially when they say, everything happens for a reason. It's pretty sad to think it took nearly being blown off the planet to make me realize this. I guess you really can teach an old dog a new trick. That's what "they" say, right?