Coffee With A View: We, the Powerful

After the American Revolution, George Washington went home. Then he went back to preside over the Constitutional Convention, became the first U.S. President, resigned from the Continental Army, and then…he went home.

For those who call Wyoming home, our way of Life is either as simple or as complicated as we make it. But leaving a legacy–your stamp on the timeline–isn’t about the business of politics. It is very much about that way of life, and how it is genuinely served and lived.

And Life is in a state of constant motion. The ocean is a perfect example in observation of powerful waves and breakers, turbulent undercurrents, ebbs and flows, silently rising tides with forces that can flow into unyielding rushing rivers..and with over 70% of the planet covered by water, it is a power that is often underestimated.

I think that many were unprepared for Hurricane Trump. Whatever side (or middle) of the political spectrum you’re on, it is not difficult to ascertain that the cause and effects have been beneficial for a few, but devastating for the unprivileged many who are drowning, suffering, dying, or trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered life. Yet, every election year, no matter what the state of disaster, there is a consistent power of its own that reveals itself…

The Power of the Voter.

Once again, as we deal with all the propaganda, sign and billboard pollution, grandstanding, name-dropping, mudslinging, crabs-in-a-barrel mentalities, the barraging social media campaigns of candidates tooting their own horns…the power of the vote still remains in the hands of We the People. And it can be very difficult to swim through the soup, drown out the noise, and try to reach the shore with an educated vote that we hope won’t compromise our lives, liberties, and pursuits of happiness. You have to choose the right people to do the right things for the right reasons.

But who are the right people? What are the right things? The election year circus is on the road, and my approach this year is to act as my own ‘ring leader’ and ask myself: What is my criteria for a candidate who is vying for my vote?

Here’s my own list; let me know if yours might be similar. These are not typical questions a political panel moderator might ask…it’s more like a job interviewer. But these are things that are important to me as one who holds the power of the vote. (And this is my short list!)

• Do they make statements or promises during campaigns, then excuses once they’re in office…pass the buck and do the blame game? I really don’t know how much more gaslighting this country can take.

• Are they honest, trustworthy, and accountable? Why should I trust them with the keys of the city, the county, the state, the nation? Are they fiscally responsible, or do they play the shell game and rob Peter to pay Paul? Do they steal ideas from others and call them their own? Do they take undue credit? Do they listen to gossip and hearsay? Do they spin the truth?

• Do they manage their time wisely? Do they know the demands of the job? Time management is important; do they meet deadlines? Are they present or absent? Do they account for their time wisely, or create more bottlenecks by dropping the ball because of the lack of preparation? Do they table important issues and let them slip between the cracks, hoping they’ll go away and/or unnoticed? Do they have answers or report their findings at the next meeting, or did they make excuses for lack of due diligence? Do they have any foresight, or just fly by the seat of their pants? Or do they just float along with the status quo?

• Are they transparent? Communication is key. Do they make decisions behind closed doors, then pass edicts and decisions that affect an unaware public? Do they omit important information that the public has a right to know? Can they admit if they’ve made mistakes, and do their best to rectify them…or do they deflect? Does the left hand know what the right hand’s doing?

• Are they accessible to their constituents? Do they manage their communications effectively…answer their phones, return messages, answer emails? Do they follow up?

• Do they pander to their political affiliation? Do their party cohorts, friends, family, colleagues, etc. influence or do the thinking for them? Are they genuinely considerate and listen, or are they distracted elsewhere and can't be bothered? Are they team players, or dismissive of We the People? Do they objectively base their thoughts and decisions on facts or mere opinion?

• Are they above the law? Do they think the law doesn’t apply to them, and hire attorneys and fixers to save face? Contrary to this nation's declining state of integrity…character, morals and values still matter to me. A lot.

• Are they hypocritical? Do they practice what they preach? Are they two-faced? Matthew 23 says it all. Look it up.

• Are they wise? You can be intelligent, but not very smart. You can also be smart, but not very intelligent. With experience comes wisdom, and with that comes an understanding about the people you serve. Do they consult with those who might be more wise and experienced?

• For the re-elected: Are they resting on their laurels? If they are, maybe it’s time for them to go home.

• Are they sober-minded? Effects of alcohol on the brain include: Impaired judgement and decision-making, slow reaction time, poor coordination and balance, memory problems, and mood changes. Even if one might say they’re moderate or a “social drinker” it doesn’t take away from the lasting effects that alcohol has on critical thinking skills. I had friends that would joke around about being “functional” alcoholics. Really. Functional? Does that include the hangover, associated headaches, and lack of motivation the next day? I remember my drinking days, and quite honestly, I would’ve called myself anything but functional!

I know, this is quite a wish list, and believe me, I’m not looking for superhumans here. But I’ll tell you right now, I would have more respect for our elected officials, regardless of political affiliation, if I knew that these were the qualities they hold.

And, at the same time, there is a responsibility that We the People have in order to hold our leaders accountable, long after the elections are over:

• Can we accept the outcome of the elections and move forward, not back?

• Do we show up at city council or commissioner meetings? Do we show up to the relevant committee/sub-committee meetings? If the public isn’t present to comment for the record, what is it we expect?

• Do we really understand the issues, and call out our elected officials if they are doing something untowards? Do we take the time to communicate with them, or write letters to the editor?

• Are a part of the problems, or the solutions?

If we aren’t doing our due diligence, we have no room to talk when the rains come, streams rise, and winds blow (Matthew 7: 24-27) We do more damage playing armchair politics in front of our glowing screens, pointing fingers, complaining, throwing out misguided opinions, thinking we’re experts and authority on any given subject, splashing misinformation in the mudpuddles of social media.

What kind of legacy will your candidates leave? Once in office, our leaders need the ability to take the helm and steer, even through uncharted waters and storms that lie ahead. Not an easy job! Help them to be better, do better. Hold them accountable, so when they go home at the end of the day...or the end of their term...they can know that they were that right person who did the right things for the right reasons for the People who cared enough to believe they could.

"Elections belong to the people. It's their decision.

If they decide to turn their back on the fire and burn their behinds,

then they will just have to sit on their blisters."

- Abraham Lincoln

History Lessons: "We Are Here For Them."

Carol Harper

When I visited Washington D.C. in November and walked through Arlingon National Cemetery, nothing could prepare me for the vast amount of graves. The above photo is just one section of the entire cemetery, and there was a point on our walk where myself and fellow Stars of Life friends fell silent. The reverence. The awe. There are no words.

At the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was where it really hit home: The living...ourselves and the crowd around us...and the unknown dead. The Marines changing guard, keeping constant watch. Being there in person made a lasting impact on me.

This last Saturday I assisted the American Legion and VFW with putting Memorial Day flags next to the graves of our fallen heroes. My section included my Grandpa Stephen A. Starks (WWI). My birth grandfather, Frank Quintana, was a pilot in WWII, and all I remember is seeing the newspaper clipping of his obituary. My birth father was in both the Navy and the Marines, and served in Vietnam.  My uncle Jim Starks served in the Army 82nd Airborne Division, and my uncle Ralph Starks served in the Navy (Korean War) as a radarman on the U.S.S. Tingey, and in his obituary, it reads: "Though Ralph was proud of his service, he was equally troubled that the path of war is often too quickly chosen by nations."

I had a lot of flags to place in my section of Mountain View cemetery, and I was able to place all of them...except for one. I searched everywhere, and knew I was in the right place, but a headstone or plaque was nowhere to be found. As I narrowed my search down, I noticed a rectangular patch of dry grass in a space between all of the graves, as if it would be a place where a plaque would be laid, but there were no other identifying factors for the name on my list. So I placed the flag next to the patch of dry grass, and stood there in silence.

As I got ready to leave, I stood back and viewed my entire section and said a prayer, and on my drive home, my thoughts flooded back to Arlington and all of the tombstones. The names of those MIA. The countless lives lost. That freedom comes at a great cost, and that I am here, now...living and breathing in what I believe to be the most beautiful state in the nation. 

The weather was perfect for today's Memorial Day service. The speech that Commander Nancy Eustice delivered was beautiful, and rather than summarize, I would like to share it with you below. Whereas I had, and to this day, have no words to describe the ultimate sacrifices made for all of us, here they are:

Veterans, Family, Friends, and Honored Guests,

Since the founding of the United States 250 years ago, it is estimated that more than 558 million Americans and immigrants have called this nation home. More than 1.1 million of them have died defending the United States in wars and combat actions since the American Revolution. Each one had a story. Each one had a family. Each one left behind a legacy of service and sacrifice.

The crosses at Normandy. The graves at Arlington.

The 1,885 to 1,900 Wyomingites who have given their lives in defense of our nation since statehood in 1890. And the fallen heroes who rest in places unknown.

We are here for them.

How could we not be moved by the breathtaking sacrifices that generations of Americans have made--and continue to make--on our behalf?

We do not forget, because we are here for them.

For 250 years, Americans have answered the call to defend liberty, preserve freedom, and protect the ideals upon which this nation was founded. Throughout that history, Wyoming's sons and daughters have proundly stood among them.

This year, as we commemorate 250 years of American independence, we honor their service, remember their sacrifice, and reaffirm our commitment to preserving the freedoms they helped secure.

We are here for them.

From those who threw themselves upon grenades to save their comrades, to those who gave their lives rescuing shipmates from the sea, this day reminds us that ordinary Americans have often displayed extraordinary courage.

Yet Memorial Day is not only about those who fell on distant battlefields. It is also about those left behind.

We must never forget the families of our fallen. Long after the guns have fallen silent and the bombs have stopped exploding, children still miss a parent. Spouses continue their lives without their partners. Parents carry the grief of their sons and daughters taken far too soon.

As Americans, we have a responsibility to be present for them. While no one can replace their loved ones, we can offer compassion, support, and the assurance that their sacrificies--and the sacrifices of those they lost--will never be forgotten.

We are here for them.

While many of us will enjoy time with family and friends this Memorial Day weekend, we must remember the price that was paid for the freedoms we enjoy and the American way of life we often take for granted.

Remembering and honoring those who did not come home is the true meaning of Memorial Day.

Let us remember that freedom has no greater friend than the American Soldier, Sailor, Airman, Marine, Coast Guardsman, and Space Force Guardian.

The truest way to honor the fallen is to live lives worthy of their sacrifice. That means stregnthening our communities, helping our fellow veterans, supporting military families, and teaching the next generation whaet this day truly means.

We must tell their stories. We must say their names.

We must ensure that our children and grandchildren understand that the freedoms they inherited were paid for with courage, service and sacrifice.

We are here for them. For those who served. For those who sacrificed. For those who never came home. For the families who carry their memory forward...

We are here for them.

Thank you, God bless America, God bless our Veterans, and God bless our Gold Star families.

EMS Week 2026: Helping People

When I moved back to my hometown of Riverton, Wyoming in October 2017, I had no idea where God would be leading me as far as a career path. I had just finished a 35-year career as a music director and an abundant work history as an admin for attorneys, engineers, an electronics firm, a glass company, a reporter/writer for newspapers, and...the health care industry. Working in different cities, towns, and settings instilled a certain confidence wherever I landed, and so, in true "Carol" form, I hit the ground running.

A little history...I worked at Sutter Amador Hospital in the EVS/Engineering and Finance departments, and ended up as the Medical Staff Coordinator. I worked at Interim HealthCare Hospice and just loved all of the hospice nurses, so sweet and caring! Being an editor/writer for newspapers, newsletters, and magazines was fun. Being a news reporter was tedious, but exciting. I remember going to a fire that was burning in the foothills near Sutter Creek...getting photos of the firemen fighting the fire made a lasting impression. (Especially since the EMTs had to treat me for smoke inhalation. Just had to get the money shot!)

Looking back, I've realized that I've never been bored! As someone who's never really mastered the ability to sit still, even as a kid...the running theme throughout my life has been: I want to help people. With variations on that theme, the jobs, groups, and organizations I've been a part of always came back to that spirit of volunteerism. A lot time and resourcees throughout my life have been spent doing just that. Helping people.

So when I hit the job market grounds running in November 2017, never did it enter my mind that, within a month, I would land a job with Guardian Flight. I had to commute from Riverton to the Lander ambulance station every day, but believe me, I was not complaining! Ever sit in commute traffic in 'Sacramental' (Sacramento)? It IS mental!

I got to know both the ground and flight crews, and was able to travel to the different flight bases. It was during this time that I got an understanding of both operations and how they work together. I eventually had the opportunity to switch from flight to ground EMS, and became the editor of a quarterly newsletter, "The Horizon: Where Air Meets the Ground", which featured articles, crewmember spotlights, even recipes! (Hey, there are some EMTs who are really good cooks!) But it also gave me great perspective about a world that no one else sees. A day in the life of an EMT. Station life with radios and pagers going off, lights and sirens, crews coming and going, 

With any job, change happens. Going through the transitions from Guardian Flight, Guardian Flight/Ground, to AMR to GMR, to Frontier Ambulance gave me insight on just how hard it is on all of the crews (and hospitals!) to adjust. But through it all, they just still keep going and going...doing a challenging job that most could never do. They're helping people. Saving people. 

As EMS Week comes to a close, I want to thank God for bringing me back to my EMS family, and for giving me the experiences, opportunities, and trainings that enable me to help both our EMTs and my community. And as we all once again hit the ground running and come to an even bigger transition, there will come a time and opportunity where the people of Fremont County and the Wind River Indian Reservation can save the future of our EMS services.

The Joint Committee on Funding Key Services (JCFKS) and the Regional Ambulance Service Evaulation Committee (RASEC) have been working very hard and helping FCAG and the County Commissioners in gathering and reviewing (correct) information and data in order to move forward on how the future of EMS will look in Fremont County. I strongly encourage you to sit in on their meetings which are Wednesdays at 12:00 PM at WRTA or via Zoom, and if you cannot attend, get on their email list in order to be correctly informed of the progress. (You can eat your lunch while you watch/listen.) 

These are public meetings, and public comment is welcomed! This is a way you can help, and I hope you will, so that our EMS providers can continue helping and saving lives for years to come...doing the job that most people cannot do.

Carol Harper

Coffee With A View: Be Better, Not Bitter

This was the quote/photo in my last MMIP Wind River blog piece, Being A Good Person.

I was recently the subject of Holly Butler's/Civil Rights for Wind River's run down of the next Northern Arapaho General Council's meeting, and what was said about me was, well...enlightening? I didn't realize that Ms. Butler and Ms. Hodge thought they knew so much about me. Isn't it always surprising when you find out you're the subject of assumptive gossip?

Anyway, I commented on their Facebook wall in my defense, but it wasn't long before they blocked me and of course with that, the comment went away. Fortunately, I kept the comment. Here it is below:

"Respectfully...my agenda item is about the tribe being prepared for the upcoming wildfire season and disasters in general. As the Community Partnership Lead for the Red Cross, which is a global humanitarian organization, FEMA and first responders work together with Harvey Spoonhunter, who did a great job with the recent flood plain workshop with the Army Corps of Engineers. And yes, I will touch on the structures that are already in place both on the tribal and local, county/FEMA sides when it comes to emergencies and disasters. I'm not trying to take anyone's job, I have no intention of ever taking anyone's job; I already have one...and a recent event with the Red Cross has shown that many tribal members may be quite ill-prepared for a mass casualty/mass mortality event. I would appreciate it very much if folks would stop assuming things about me as if I have ulterior motives/agendas. Very slanted viewpoint about me and an important topic. And the picture with Harriet Hageman? Makes everyone assume that I support her or chummy with her. I am most certainly not. That photo was taken as a recipient of the Stars of Life award I received, and there were photos taken with all three of the legislators I had time to visit with in Washington DC, and we were discussing the critical need for ambulance services across the nation. If you are so dismissive about an important issue as emergency preparedness, perhaps you wouldn't be, should a wildfire rip through the reservation. Thank you for listening." 

Their discourse continued about the whole debacle with MMIP Wind River and the misinformation that circulated about how I 'took it away' from Nicole Wagon. For the record, I did not take MMIP Wind River away from her. The facts are: Ms. Wagon and the rest of her group kicked me out of MMIP, and wrote a certified letter to me, threatening that if I didn't hand over the website and Facebook page, she would take legal action against me. She did, in fact, file a police report (which went nowhere). You can read "Regarding MMIP Wind River..." on the blog site. Additionally, Ms. Wagon did all of this during a time when I was crippled from a slip and fall accident, and was going blind in both eyes.

How soon Ms. Wagon forgets how much myself and others volunteered time to help her with her speeches, campaigns and marches. And instead of civilly approaching me with any questions or concerns, she chose to bully and threaten me. I haven't been a part of her last two marches because I'm not going to go where I am not wanted and create undue tension. It has been abundantly clear that she does not want to work with me. So, for the past two years, I have taken MMIP Wind River in the direction of pro-prevention, education, and outreach for victims and survivors of domestic violence, assault, abuse, suicide, and trafficking...the root causes of MMIP. Ms. Wagon does her thing; I do mine. As I believe what we both do is important for the MMIP cause, I am saddened that her choice to kick me out of her group still has a lasting effect on folks. I don't even know how much mudslinging has gone on behind my back, but the continuation of it publicly is enough to warrant my response.

My focus has been on community outreach and education, and ways that we can help our tribe. I have no hidden agenda, no ulterior motives. I support Harvey Spoonhunter and desire to help him improve the existing systems for emergency management and response. I'm a volunteer for the Red Cross, and Frontier Ambulance has an awesome partnership with the Red Cross of Wyoming. I sit on the county's DUI Task Force, the Suicide Prevention Task Force, and a local trafficking task force is being formed with the help of UprisingWyo. I'm happy where I am, helping people wherever and whenever I can, and have enough on my plate with all of the issues that plague both our county and tribe...why would anyone even think that I'd be vying for someone else's job? And besides, wasn't it Ms. Wagon who nominated Sunny Goggles for Tribal Chairperson...and now you slam her (Sunny) as well? And then you block me from your Facebook page because I commented in self-defense?

So, Ms. Butler, exactly who is it that "can't be trusted"? What viable reason, or what did I ever do or say that made you come to that conclusion? If CRWR were actually as 'civil' as they claim, perhaps it would have been more prudent of you to get the facts before slamming me and my character in front of your audience. Taking the higher road means you don't bully and threaten. Taking the higher road would be about not kicking someone when they're down. Taking the higher road is that you don't assume something about someone that is totally untrue. Taking the higher road would be about not spreading false narratives,  misinformation, or misguided opinions in order to further smear someone in public or private! Ms. Wagon's agenda items has to do with Election Judges. If my experience with her and how she treated me re: MMIP was wrought with threats, gossip, and character slamming...how is anyone supposed to know how to make any kind of educated vote, and furthermore, even really know that what she proposes is actually in the best interests of the tribe or not?

And, let's be honest: That wasn't the only photo you could find of me. That was purposely selected to make it look like I was some right-winger that cozies up to Hageman. Nice try, but the fact is, those who actually know me, know that I am a moderate, neither left nor right. Doesn't make me apathetic; it just allows me to do my own thinking instead of allowing the partisan extremism affect my judgement when it comes to the truth/facts. Your portrayal and opinions of me might fall within the convenient disclaimer you post up at the beginning of your podcast, but I sure hope folks are smart enough to decide for themselves and not allow you to do their thinking for them. It only perpetuates the already deep divides that trouble our tribe.

Ms. Butler, you don't know me. There are many sides to a story. You failed to get mine. That has been the theme of the entire nation's political climate lately, and it's sad when people get sucked into it. The gridlock is real. I've met very good people and also some downright mean people in my tribe, and the division between families and relatives has always been a problem. I try not to focus too much on that (and believe me, it's tough)! But folks who criticize and smear those who are only trying to help make things better in their tribe or community just makes it that more difficult for any kind of progress to happen.

Be better, not bitter.

Carol Harper

Coffee With A View: To Being a Mother...

By Carol Harper

Before the sun sets on this, my (nearly) 39th year of being a mother, I had a few thoughts to share.

Both my brother and I were adopted as infants into our family; I had written the (below) tribute to my mother 26 years ago. Oh, how things change through the years! Gone are the days as a kid, where you had the freedom to ride your bike up and down Griffy Hill, to the Creamery or Woolworth's, or all over town to meet your friends. Everyone sitting down as a family for dinner is something people might not believe ever happened unless you've watched an episode of Blue Bloods or the movie Blast from the Past. I don't even own an ironing board or typewriter anymore, and growing and maintaining a garden is a lot of work that few have time for (thank God for our farmers' markets). Health care and the advances in medicine and technology today would have been considered alien technology back in the day. 

Mom Thelma died on July 30, 2005. She did her very best she could in raising my brother and I, and had so many health problems throughout her life. As a kid, you really don't know the pains that someone goes through until you've experience those pains for yourself. As an adult, I consider myself blessed to be able to live each day in appreciation of my mother's advice and wisdom (Do It Better), and..."to experience all that life has to offer, and live every day as if it were my last."

Thank you for reading, and thank you to all of the strong, wonderful, beautiful women in my life who have been like mothers to me, and have enriched and blessed my life with your guidance and wisdom.

Carol

__________________

A Tribute to my Mother

July 2010

I barely remember the beautiful, vibrant woman in old pictures, posing with a big smile, thick beautiful hair pinned up in a curly do. No, if I could go back into the furthest recesses of my mind, what I remember is a hospital visit and seeing a woman who was deathly ill, weak and fragile, who spent her time afterwards in bed for days, weeks, months on end. I remember wigs on the bathroom counter, the smell of balms and lotions, herbs and vitamins. I remember hearing her occasional whimpers of pain, but did not, could not and never will fully understand the amount and kind of pain Mom had to endure.
 
I remember Mrs. Tuft coming in to clean the house on Thursdays, and my sister sometimes babysitting my brother and I. I so love my brother—we often “...fought and quarreled and ‘served the devil", as Mom would say. I remember my brother and I dividing up my dolls and playing make-believe baseball games, or making Hot Wheel race car tracks all around his room. I remember that whenever we got into trouble, we’d be sent to our rooms, but would still throw things at each other from across the hall…like our baby beans dolls, bouncy balls, or spit wads (big ones, too). I remember floating down the canal on inner tubes, playing Cowboys and Indians (guess who was always the Indian, hmmm!). I remember watching my brother squirt Elmer’s glue down a neighbor boy’s butt crack and down into his pants during one of our neighborhood puppet shows, and Mom busting out laughing when she found out about it (via a telephone call from the boy’s mother).
 
I remember the smell of a fresh Big Chief notebook, or new crayons and watercolors, and the smile on Mom’s face when I’d jump up and down with joy in receiving them. I remember Mom creating the “school closet”, and I would raid it often – reading, imagining, creating for hours on end. I remember dancing like a ballerina in the living room to classical music on the record player; when Mom came into the room, I stopped in my tracks, embarrassed. She said, “No, keep dancing!” And she signed me up for ballet lessons. (Mrs. Eck's dance studio was the IOOF building).
 
I remember Mom always signing me up for the library’s summer reading program, summer recreational classes, and the children’s musical theater. I remember being driven to and from Mrs. Kelliher’s house or CWC for piano lessons. I remember Mom wheeling the ugly green chair over to the pink piano, sitting in the basement for an hour or more each day, whapping the music with an old translucent stick, making sure I practiced my lesson correctly.

I remember Mom dropping me off at my brother’s little league baseball games with a little money, and I’d eat gobstoppers or Jolly Rancher sticks until my tongue turned the color of the candy. I remember munching up my ankle in the spokes of one of the old bikes and tracking blood into the house, up the stairs and into the bathroom. There was a myriad of other wounds that Mom would calmly take care of with hydrogen peroxide, pink Merthiolate and plastic band-aids. I remember that we’d ride our bikes and play outside until dusk, waiting to hear Dad’s distinct whistle for dinnertime.
 
I remember Mom’s chili, casseroles, clam chowder, beef stew, baked chicken, her elk/deer jerky, and “snowy dip”.  I remember her teaching me to clean, cook, bake, sew, iron, dry, can and freeze…planting, weeding and harvesting a huge garden. I remember our lunch tradition of fried egg sandwiches with mustard, or fish sandwiches from the Covered Wagon (now The Pony Espresso), hearing the noon siren and listening to Paul Harvey on the old black radio. I remember countless visits with Grandma and Grandpa and was always excited to visit. I remember many “classic movie” dates with popcorn and hot carob. Mom would circle the show times in the TV guide (especially the musicals, Mom loved the musicals).
 
She loved babies – sure, she loved her children, grandchildren, even others’ children and grandchildren - but babies especially put a big smile on her face! Mom and I loved to laugh together, find the humor in everything. She was often curious – I remember her asking me what my cappuccino or vanilla latte tasted like. She asked me what Mexico was like, what scuba diving was like. She was always interested in what I was doing – my jobs, my latest writing, my own trials and errors as a mother. It wasn’t until I was much older that I realized how very interested she was in so much of what life had to offer—yet she gave so much of her life and energy so that we could experience all that life had to offer.
 
She was never a “Room Mom” at school, never hung out with other moms, never a part of the PTA. She was as quiet as a church mouse at church, but had the mouth of a sailor at home (of which the entire neighborhood could often attest). She was mild-mannered and polite in public places (like the grocery or hardware store, post office or bank) but also spoke her mind with irrefutable solidity and clarity. I could only imagine what Mom was really feeling – the physical pains she had to bear, her constant fight to simply live life, her frustrations—the things she had to do and sacrifice just to survive another day. But I never, ever had to question what she was thinking.
 
What have I learned from the woman I call my mother? I have learned to find the strength, determination and will inside myself, even if it is against all odds (“Where there’s a will, there’s a way, I always say.”). Mom taught me that everything takes work to work. She taught me to invest in my talents and abilities—to grow, build and create, and to enjoy the fruits of those labors. She taught me not to stand around talking about doing something, but to actually do it.
 
But most of all, I will remember that all Mom ever wanted for me was to be happy. When I went through an unhappy marriage, a difficult divorce, went through numerous court and custody battles, Mom was there for me, supported me, encouraged me, strengthened me, loved me. None of those things had to do with whether I was a child that came from her own womb…nor had it anything to do with whether I was a part of a church or religion. In fact, when I had left the church I had been raised in, she was the one member of the family I could talk to who did not unduly judge and disparage me. She loved me, no matter what, and that love had nothing to do with religion, differing beliefs, conditions or criteria of “worthiness”, or what others might think. Quite the opposite; in fact…Mom never did care about “what people think”. She was there for me, listened to me, and did not judge me when others did. She never questioned whether I was still a part of the family, whether the distance was physical or religious. She was giving and loving, and was Christ-like when others weren’t. In fact, she often came to my defense, solely with the knowledge she had by actually taking time to sit down and talk with me to understand—never in a spirit of criticism or debate. No, the only thing Mom ever wanted to know was whether I was happy…because if her children were happy, that’s all she needed to know. That’s all she ever wanted.
 
Now, as a mother and grandmother, I have felt the weight of the years upon me. I have gone through my own battles, struggles and sacrifices for my own children. I get so busy and absorbed in life’s struggles, stresses and worries that I often forget to ask myself if I am happy. There were so many times where I would reach for the phone to call Mom, wanting to hear her voice – talk with her, laugh with her, cry with her, talk about life, the kids, the latest – joke and tease Dad now and then. But all I really needed to hear her ask me was: “Are you happy?” If I wasn’t, we’d talk about it. If I was, we would joy in it.
 
Mom was truly a person who lived every single day as if it were her last. And one day, it was. And though the physical distance might still exist between us, there’s not a day goes by that is not in some way influenced by the woman I call my mother. She is alive in my heart and in my memories…a part of her is in everything I do. She is alive in the lessons and wisdom I’ve tried to impart to my own children.
 
Most of all, she is alive because I know she still loves me, no matter what. I feel that kind of love only a mother can give, and can only hope that I too can give of my own time and energy as Mom did – to be strong and determined, against all odds. To laugh, be curious, to travel, to watch, taste, smell and feel…to enjoy. To speak my mind with irrefutable solidity, and not care what others think.
 
To experience all that life has to offer, and live every day as if it were my last.
  

“To everything there is a season,

and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

Ecclesiastes 3:1

Carol Harper

July 2010

-----

Here's the recipe for "Snowy Dip" (I think it's better than ranch dip). It's typed on a card in my mother's recipe box that my brother gave me after her death. I treasure that recipe box!