Some ME time (well me and some of Minden's past citizens)

What would YOU do if you had a morning to spend to yourself?   (Well Jake wouldn't wake to go with me... so I ended up alone) 

Take pictures of a historic cemetery?  OF COURSE you would!     Well maybe you wouldn't.. but me?  I'm all over that.    I'm not warped (much), it just takes me to a happy place.

I have been wanting to photograph the Minden Cemetery for a couple years now and never made time to do so.  I needed to go to Minden today, so I decided this was my opportunity.

Was it creepy being alone in the cemetery?   Not at all.. kind of peaceful.   Just me and the headstones.   I probably didn't wear the best shoes.. had on my flipflops.  :)  My boots were in the truck.. but when I got there.. I was too anxious to start exploring the cemetery.  

Minden Cemetery has some rich history, but for the most part, very humble headstones.  No large angels (my favorite...)   And far less military graves marked.   But modest and ornate headstones I admired and respected just the same.

 I enjoyed my time alone.   It is a time that I can think of colors and angles and life and God and the past and the future.   It's MY time.   It's therapuetic.   It makes me whole.    I crave this.   The aloneness, but the comfort of knowing I will go home to my menfolk.    And I've not done this  several months, go spend time taking pictures for the sake of taking pictures.   For me, this is almost as satisfying as fishing.. almost.

When I got home to do some editting, I think I was in a black and white mood.. I converted so many over.   But this one is straight from the camera... no edits (except for the red arrow..lol...  I added that):

See the Orb???  I wasn't alone out there.   Ok...Ok... I admit it was probably just the reflection of the sun off my lens.. but the orb thing makes for a much better story

I hope everyone has that thing, that place... your cemetery exploring, fishing, amatuer photography, walk in the park, etc,...For me I find this inner peace and reflection always tends to be outside.   Find that place that you're alone and surrounded by God.    We all need it.... a place, some time, the reflection, some pray in the outdoors.    It makes us better people, wives, moms, citizens, employees, etc,..    It makes me a better version of me.

I *heart* Mom

             Everyday I miss the lady.  Much.   I'd give anything for a hug.

Zombie Jo

                                                             How I feel after I've poured a bowl of cereal, only to find out there is no milk!

Lake Trash, Fishing, Jefferson, Angels, Death, Garbage Truck, Mom... (I think the technical term for what takes place in my head is called Associated Looseness)

My goal in life is to grow old and be Lake Trash.   Is that too much to ask?  I want to walk out my back door and drown a worm while sitting under a tree.    We go to Crips camp often.   And enjoy our self and getting to see friends.  But... there were a lot of folks there this weekend.   Took away from the relaxing part of our weekend.  You can't rent peace and quiet. 

Ron and I enjoyed our time there (despite the sometimes crowd)  We caught bream, saw friends, visited Jefferson, TX and I took a lot of pictures.  We visited a cemetery in Jefferson and I was in heaven (pun intended).   There were beautiful angel monuments everywhere.   By the time I inspected the beautiful face of one, another would catch my eye.   There is just something so special about these hand carved memorials.   The people long gone that bought them to memorialize those that came before them.   I love the bit of dark marble they use in the angel's eyes to form the iris.  And angel feet... always barefoot...   Always one foot stretched.    One was a little girl, a toddler.   

Ironic, I love memorials so much, but I want to be cremated. So does my husband.    I have no special requests... or at least I didn't.  Always figured you can mix me with clay and make me into an ash tray for all I care.   But my husband said the most romantic thing to me the other day.   :)  He wants to mix our ashes.    Seriously.. can ya get any more romantic than that?   I think not!   We plan to keep the other's ashes and when the survivor passes... have them mixed together (Ryan, this will be your job).    A mixtures of his & hers.    That is TRUE love.   My husband wants them to go in the Atchafalaya Basin (Also your job Ryan).   Death will imitate life... I always tell him, " I do what you do".    Let me just add though....that I will be furious if I'm the one that goes first, he remarries and my ashes end up in a garbage truck.   ( Like how I went from the lake to Jefferson to death to being thrown in a garbage truck?  I know... it's a gift.  HA!)   And no Honey... we can't all three be mixed together.     I know, every man's fantasy, right?  

I dusted Mom the other day.   Her ashes sit on a table in the foyer (or as we plain folk call it, the doorway) area.   I have to take them where she wanted to go.  I don't look at the urn and cry or anything.  It's the actual "letting go" and the act of taking the ashes out there that has me procrastinating.    Surely Mom would have understood and not minded spending a bit of time on the shelf overlooking her daughter's living room.   I used Pledge.  If you're curious.  To dust the urn.  It's wood.  

I'll need a look out, while I spread the ashes. This could include a cute bright orange jumpsuit!!!    Any takers?



(just an added note: if you google anything with the word "looseness" in it... you'll find interesting data on bowels, vaginas and such,..)

Father...unknown? What does THAT mean?

When I was in elementary school, I had to bring a copy of my birth certificate to school, so the teacher had me leave it on her desk.   I can't recall the grade, but it was at Creswell, so it was 4th grade or earlier.   My birth certificate is sitting on her desk when a little girl reads it.   And says loudly,"Father..unknown? What does THAT mean?".   I remember saying (loudly)." My father is Ronnie Wallace, I know who my father is!!!"   And then the teacher taking me outside the room because I was crying. 

My original birth certificate does read under the "father" section: "unknown".   I hated that.  Because my Mom always told me who my father was.   She told me he saw me until I was about two.. when he got married.   I knew he had another little girl a couple years after me.   And later heard another child.   I recall Mom's friends mentioning how I had eyes like Ronnie's etc,...   So WHY "unknown"?   Well, this was before the days of DNA.  You couldn't just put someone's name on the birth certificate.  but more importantly, she did not want his name there.   She didn't want him to have a claim.   I love her and know she was protecting her newborn girl.   New reprints of my birth certificate are just blank under the father section.

Growing up, Mom always sent my school picture to a sweet lady named Ms Dew.   I remember seeing Ms Dew... having cookies at her house.    Ms Dew was Ronnie Wallace's best friend's mom.   And when he came to town to visit, she would secretly show him my pictures.  And my mom would see pictures of Ronnie's other kids.   This wasn't weird to me.  It was how it was.

So, I grew up with a name... Ronnie Wallace.   And a location... Kentucky.   I resisted looking for him many years.   With the advancements of the Internet and search engines... the thought was there.  I just couldn't decide if I would or should or could find him.   My husband actually encouraged me to look.  It took me years to finally decide to look.

September 2010, I begin the online search.  Joined a couple of people search sites.  Called a few Ronnie Wallaces... emailed some.. did searches on Classmates, obituaries, etc,..

I finally asked Mom to help.  In the past, she had discouraged me looking.   But, she began giving me information.  But couldn't remember his middle name... thought his birthday was in October... I was asking a woman with three strokes to recall 41 years before...lol.   But she tried.  

 In early October 2010, I was alone one night, and digging through the Internet looking for my father.   And it hit me... one thing a lot of obituaries listed is where someone was born.  So I entered,"Ronnie Wallace born in Shreveport"   And it came up.  A picture of a man just as my mom always described.   I knew it was him before I even read a word of the obituary.  I was alone, my husband in Baton Rouge.   And as I read... his mother lives in Bossier City... and is alive?   He'd passed the month before on September 5th.   Damn.

http://www.parispi.net/articles/2010/09/07/obituaries/doc4c8666c45f1f3221485426.txt

Why bring it up now?  I had a blog in September... I'm an "open book", right?   Well... I had to wrap my mind around this.   And it occurred to me... with Father's Day coming up... that it was a bit different for me this year.   I found and lost him within moments.   Mom passed just 3 months later.   And I discovered I had family that accepted me , including another brother and a sister, an aunt that sends me packages of love (cookies, brownies) and a grandma still spry at the age of 98 (at the time.. she's had a birthday since)!

I've had time to think about the "timing" of everything happening.  I think God was "hooking me up" with more family.  He knew he was calling Mom home soon.

God is great.  And my father is not unknown.

I love him for loving her

My husband was good to my Mom.    Really good to my Mom.   If I didn't pick her up, he'd insist I take her a bowl of spaghetti or gumbo... whatever great thing he'd made for supper.   There were never leftovers, just Mom's serving.   And she was grateful.

Mom's first year in the nursing home she won a the Ms Riverview Pageant.  I kid you not.... the nursing home has a pageant.     She looked beautiful.   But what it did for her self esteem... well...you'd have thought she won Ms America.

Well... the winner goes to regionals.  Let me type that once more.... the WINNER of the nursing home pageant goes to regionals!    Again... You'd have thought this was nationals.   But she had just one request,"Do you think Ron will escort me?"    Huh?   "They said I can have an escort walk me for the pageant."    I went home and asked my husband.   He kinda laughed and said "yeah... the things I do"    I tell ya the truth.. she DID have the most handsome escort there.   My husband pulled out his best suit and walked the lady down the ailse for the pageant.   And her beaming face told it all. (eyes closed in almost every picture..lol) ( and I just want to say she came in 3rd place... She was robbed!!!... But I thought it'd be classless to protest.  Besides, that lady that won was on oxygen... that should be an automatic forfeit... I mean seriously going after the sympathy vote!  Have she no shame!?!)

His poo pretty much didn't stink after that...ha.   She'd have swore it smelled like rose water.     Mom had been at the home a couple of years and had been eyeballing one of them fancy walkers with the seat in it.  Oh yeah... all the cool nursing home residents had it.   (ha)   Anyway... One day out of the blue, I get a call at work and Mom is crying, "Your husband is the best man in the whole world".  I said,"Well I know Mom... but why do YOU think so?"   He'd gotten her that walker in a pretty dark red , assembled it and took it to her at the home.     Now that I think about it, that's how she got a new TV out of him too one day..lol.   

She and I were soul mates.   She was worried about me handling her being "gone".     I assured her I wouldn't be alone, that I have Ron.  She said, "Yes, you have Ron".    I'm not sure who she was reminding, me or herself.     And none of this has been easy.  But I've had Ron.  And he loved my Mom.  And I loved that he loved my Mom. 

Ron made spaghetti tonight.  I'm a silly girl sometimes...   I get weepy over the little things.. like left over spaghetti.

Weinergate

(I just like saying that... no story...ha)