By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

Tomorrow I turn 40.  I don’t know that I’m reacting at all.  Maybe part of getting older is that these milestones mean less than they did.  That sounds right.

I’ve been thinking about the concept of legacy lately.  I recently watched a talk by an older woman who had been diagnosed with cancer and knew she would be dying soon.  She didn’t want a legacy; she was so excited to return to the Earth, to be a part of the natural world.  She talked about how beautiful that was.  That really resonated with me and I had never heard anyone talk about it like that before.  I find that I want both.

I’ve been working on my family tree for the past couple of years.  It’s fascinating to discover these people from the past, people whose existence influences my life in ways I will never understand.  They would have passed on lessons to their children, and those children to theirs, and so on.  How far back would I have to go to find the genesis of my belief in fairness, my general work ethic, and my independent spirit?  What would I find that wouldn’t be passed on?  It’s such an interesting space to live in.

I have no children.  Does that mean I will have no legacy?  I admit that it is hard to see a situation three generations from now where there are descendants of my brothers working on their own genealogy and giving much thought to their distant uncle.  But I do that for my own tree.  Some of the most interesting people I find on my own tree are those who did not have children of their own.  That is at least a little bit comforting.  And I hope they find me interesting.

That isn’t at all to write off having children of my own.  I still want that.  I’m not sure at what age it becomes a selfish pursuit, but I don’t think forty is it.  I make many excuses, but adoption is something I should really think about.

I’ll be forty tomorrow, and I’ve been talking about the loss of my youth.  I don’t actually believe that.  I think I’m trying to convince myself somehow that I have to grow up now.  Most days I feel like I’m twenty, but I have days when I feel sixty.

I thought I would be panicky, but I’m not.  I thought I would be coupled, but I’m not.  I thought I would be settled, but I’m not.  I thought I would be a lot of things.  But I am where I am.  And I’m okay with that.

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

Cercis canadensis

When we had tried
putting ourselves together again
we’d used the wrong parts,
made effigies of ourselves
with the piles of distorted junk,
left behind scraps of a once-full life.
We went through the motions of people
spoke like them, practicing their accents,
but did not understand our own words.
We got the phrases wrong,
the tones, the memories.
Periodically, we’d erupt into full color
flowers growing from every part
and our days seemed alive with joy.
But we would catch ourselves lost in time,
eyes fixed on a long-abandoned walker,
a long-absent bed,
a long-neglected garden,
at the things we find so important now
and the flowers would fall from our bodies.
I gave up on trying to find the parts
of myself I missed most,
stopped looking for who I had been before. I’ve been more comfortable with discomfort,
waiting for others to finally leave the safety
of their beds, the safety of their tears.
And we’ve started to share ourselves again,
imagining Spring, redbuds flushed fuchsia,
grief removed from our shoulders,
sadness washed from our faces
by the showers of April and storms of May.
We will remember how to be happy
and how to be sad and how to be,
and we’ll see the long-forgotten remnants
and we will understand who we are.

Notes

Written 19 April 2019 in Payne County, Oklahoma. Rewritten 5 September 2019 in Payne County, Oklahoma.

Brian Fuchs, “Cercis canadensis” from Okie Dokie (Scissortail Press, 2019)

 

Cercis canadensis

When we had tried
putting ourselves together again
we’d used the wrong parts,
made effigies of ourselves
with the piles of distorted junk,
left behind scraps of a once-full life.
We went through the motions of people
spoke like them, practicing their accents,
but did not understand our own words.
We got the phrases wrong,
the tones, the memories.
Periodically, we’d erupt into full color
flowers growing from every part
and our days seemed alive with joy.
But we would catch ourselves lost in time,
eyes fixed on a long-abandoned walker,
a long-absent bed,
a long-neglected garden,
at the things we find so important now
and the flowers would fall from our bodies.
I gave up on trying to find the parts
of myself I missed most,
stopped looking for who I had been before.
I’ve been more comfortable with discomfort,
waiting for others to finally leave the safety
of their beds, the safety of their tears.
And we’ve started to share ourselves again,
imagining Spring, redbuds flushed fuchsia,
grief removed from our shoulders,
sadness washed from our faces
by the showers of April and storms of May.
We will remember how to be happy
and how to be sad and how to be,
and we’ll see the long-forgotten remnants
and we will understand who we are.

By:
On:
With: 1 Comment

Welcome To My Oklahoma Family

I was looking for something fun to blog about in 2019 and I thought getting into my family’s history might be interesting. I’ve always been interested in the stories that make up our family, and I am particularly interested in the real lives of the folks without a strong an obvious record. I want to know the things I can never know. What sorts of things did my 4th great grandma think about? Was my 6th great uncle happy? What were the sounds and smells of the house of the young families? It’s unfortunate that legal documents form the understanding of the vast majority of our families. I long for journals or diaries, and maybe more of those will be discovered. Until then, I have only the facts and I will try to present as much as I can to try and help understand the various branches of my family.

I’ve been careful to avoid the words ancestry and genealogy until now, but after this explanation, I will use them. I consider myself a family historian and not a genealogist. I find DNA an interesting part of studying one’s own story, but it isn’t the complete story. Who I share genetics with in a lot of cases have less to do with who I am and who my family has been than close friends and communities, or even pets. There are more ways of facing what a family is than simply tracing one’s ancestry. And I’m also not saying that isn’t valid. If you are only interested in that, go for it. Do your thing. I am not trying to prove a pedigree or show how I am related to anyone in particular, so I’m going to look at the whole. I will definitely look at ancestry and trace my family lines, but I just won’t stop there or be defined by what that is.

DNA

I recently got a DNA test from Ancestry.com The broad results are fairly expected. For those who don’t know, DNA tests do not show where someone comes from, but where people with similar DNA can be found today. It might sound like a minor distinction, but it can help understand why results don’t seem 100% what you might expect.

As you can see from my results, I am 69% “England, Wales & Northwestern Europe”, 28% “Ireland & Scotland”, and 3% “Sweden.” The latter two are clear, but “England, Wales & Northwestern Europe” is a large area and does not show distinctions between Germany, Denmark, England, or France. It’s a large area with a lot of countries. I do know generally speaking that my family came to the United States from Germany, Switzerland, Ireland, and England. I am the cliché American profile.

When you look at the migrations map, you will see that there too I am incredibly broadly American, having family that settled everywhere from Pennsylvania to Texas, from Wisconsin to Georgia. I’ve got family who followed Brigham Young to what would become Utah, and family that took up arms on both sides of the Civil War. There are farmers and ministers, grocers and teachers, housewives and merchants. It would be easy to look at my family and find nothing much worth mentioning, but it’s actually the fact that there aren’t a whole lot of notable figures that interests me even more. Who were these everyday folks?

I hope you’ll stick with me. Leave me comments, and if I am talking about a relative we share in common, please add your own stories and photos.

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

Dempsey, Oklahoma

Squash vines coiled
in and around, spilling &
tumbling over each other,
exploding with fruit,
filled with more water
than this place had seen
since May.
Those vines grew wild
alongside bindweed
in the garden that once
fed a whole family,
the jars lined up in the
dugout cellar —
apricots, potatoes, beans.
We used to play in those
places as they turned to ruins,
our historic homeland.
We’d take watermelon rind,
or cantaloupe halves out
for the overheated cows,
leave the fruit near the salt lick.
Our socks would be filled
with sand burs,
our teeth with dust,
and often my mouth would
still show the traces of chocolate
from a clandestine visit
at my grandma’s parents’ house.
The cows were traded in,
eventually the whole lot
retired to the comfort of town,
to the neighbors
with their cat stories,
and a garden bursting
with cucumbers,
a mowed lawn,
tiger-lilies.
I’d miss Dempsey then,
resigned to sit in hushed rooms,
watching my grandma’s mom
eat cornbread & milk.
She’d tell me stories,
talk about her daddy,
but I always wondered
about the cows
and about the apricot trees.

Written 29 January 2000 in Tulsa, Oklahoma & 23 February 2020 in Payne County, Oklahoma.

Brian Fuchs, “Dempsey, Oklahoma” from Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Scissortail Press, 2020)

Notes

Original Version:

thirteen

Dust and saltlicks and fuzzy caterpillars. I loved the farm. I often complained about the heat or stickerweed or the heat — such incredible heat. I was secretly relieved and secretly upset when G, with her parents moved into town. Where in town was the garden full of overripe squash and where in town were the cows, anxious for discarded watermelon or cantaloupe rind for dessert. They moved to be close to a hospital — to make certain they would have a place near for death. Poor G, it broke her heart, and us kids would sit around making all kinds of noise and she wanted to cry. Cry now, G, cry. Were off making noises in our own places — we’re grown now. We know you need a little peace — we will be quiet now.

1.29.2000

part of the chapbook Studies In Loneliness

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

You’d have a hard time finding someone who loves rain more than I do.  It relaxes me and even the slightest drizzle will cause me to throw open my windows in the hopes that I will hear the patter of raindrops.  It’s one of the things that makes me act crazy, but something I’m not apologizing for.  I love thunderstorms, light showers, sudden downpours.

I remember when I was a kid it rained on my birthday a couple of times.  By the beginning of August in Oklahoma, things can start to look pretty bleak.  Grasses start turning brown from lack of rain, and gardens become increasingly difficult to keep alive (in my experience anyway).  It’s been months since the storms of April and May, and it really feels unbearably hot and dry.  So, on those occasions when it rained on August 5, I remember being excited to have a break from the heat.

We had a fairly hot June this year, and while I hoped for below average temperatures for the rest of the summer, I didn’t have any hope of that happening.  I have been pleasantly surprised.  It’s been very warm at times, but the blistering heat has really stayed away this year.  At the end of July, it started to rain even.  That was so nice.

And the rain just kept coming.  It’s August 19 now.  The last rain we had was yesterday.  That was the last of almost 20 days of the rain I love.  Some days it would just rain a little in the middle of the day, and other days would see a large storm come through during the night.  Ultimately, I’d take that over no rain any day.  But I’m glad to have a break from it just now.  The plants need time to dry out, get some sun, etc.  We’ve got more rain in the forecast for next week.

This week was brilliant in some ways, but very sad in others.  Opie & Laura announced they are having a baby.  It was nice to have some good news, but I am having trouble with the knowing that Mom would want to have seen these two start their family.  And they are going to be great parents.  Opie had a few issues, and ten years ago I would have been worried about him becoming a father.  He’s really proven himself to be a wonderful person, and has a fantastic future ahead of him.  I’m so proud to have people like him in my family.

Brent turned 40.  I don’t think I will handle it well when I turn 40 next year, but it isn’t because I’m afraid to be in my 40s.  It brings up so many issues.  I don’t know how Brent dealt with it, but he does usually deal with things well.  I wish we would have had a party for him, but I’ve had some trouble keeping up with things like that.

I’m looking forward to a great week.  I’m starting to think it’s okay to do things… that seems vague, but I’ll elaborate in the future.

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

Happy Birthday To Me!  Today is my 39th birthday, and while it has been a mostly peaceful day, I have found myself avoiding a lot of memories and feelings that are just under the surface.  I just wasn’t in a place to deal.

I spent the first half of the day listening to episodes of the podcast Frangela: The Final Word.  TOO FUNNY!  I love these two, and have for a long time on The Stephanie Miller Show.  I don’t know why it took me so long to get into their podcast.  I’m glad I did though.  After a bit of that, I took a nice nap on the front porch, where I discovered one of the kittens had returned.  I don’t have faith in the survival of the others, but his return offered at least a glimmer of hope.  My nap was followed by going up to spend time with my dad, brother, nephew, and roommate.  Justin made vegan chicken burgers and fries and the rest of us gave Conner a hard time.  I know he was getting frustrated, but it was kinda fun anyway.

The gathering was fairly brief, a little chaotic, but okay.  I do find myself needing to manage my expectations of others in these situations.  I have a tendency to want people to put their own issues away for a few hours, and at least give the appearance that they care to spend time with me.  But they don’t.  I should know better.  I don’t mean to sound accusatory at all; they are just living their lives as normal.  It’s me who is expecting too much.

I’ve had a wonderfully productive week.  I got the shelving assembled and put in that goes along the east wall of my bedroom.  I’m putting things together slowly with it in; I don’t want it to just feel like a pile of stuff, so I’m going through things and purging a little as I go… very little.  I did identify some books on ikebana that I intend to find a new home for… if I don’t change my mind.  Those books are so thin that it will hardly make a difference in the end!  I finally put some books on the shelves in the living room as well; I’ve had three shelves empty for the past year or so, which is silly really since I had books in boxes waiting to be put out.

Justin helped me put in a row of junipers that will hopefully mature into a nice hedge to break up the front yard, and we also put in another chaste tree up at the house.  Things seem to be coming together slowly in the yards.  I need to spend some time cleaning up the flowerbeds at the house;  they are covered in weeds, need mulch, and the plants could be pruned.

Plants showed up!  I’m not sure why they were sent so early, but part of the order that was supposed to arrive in November showed up in the mail.  It isn’t a good time for planting.  I might look at how to hold them until fall; they are bare root plants.  If I can’t easily wait, I’ll need to get those in the ground or at least in planters in the next couple of days.  I’m not sure how well things will do if they are planted in August, but it does look like we will have a rather mild week and that will help.

The orange rose, which had put on very pink blooms before, has changed and the newer blooms are much more orange.  Maybe it needs to mature before the roses will be their true color, and maybe they will be pale.  Either way, I’m really liking the look of these and I’m glad I put them near the porch.  In time they will be tall enough to tie to the side of the porch and they can be enjoyed like the ‘Fourth of July’ or ‘Golden Showers’ roses are.

So this next week’s plans are all about figuring out those plants that arrived early.  I do need to mow and get started on the flowerbeds as well, but I will also spend some time uploading more blog posts.  It’s nice to be ahead of the game.  I usually stay three or four weeks ahead, but I’m only a few days ahead at the moment and need to manage things better to make sure the blog is always active.  On that note, I’m looking for feedback on what is working and what isn’t.  Leave me comments on this post or on any post you want so I know what people are thinking.

Artists Featured This Week

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

Well folks, I had high hopes for FLAMINGO WEEK.  Sadly, I was sick for much of it, and the beginning of the week involved an unexpected trip to Edmond and then a day of getting a new tire.  So, I just got a little behind what I had meant to accomplish, including blog posts I had wanted to do… this is why I try to get them done in advance.  That is fine though.  It was more a day of flamingo art than anything, and my Tumblr enjoyed a strong infusion of flamingo images for the week.

Since I’ve been under the weather, I have intentionally done nothing all week.  I have a habit of doing too much and prolonging my illnesses, and I didn’t want to do that this time.  So, I slept and drank fluids.  And sulked a little.  But the worst of it came and went quickly, and I’m really excited to get moving on a few projects I’ve been working toward.

I have some collages I have been working on, which I hope I can make more progress on soon.  I also have been working on a new series for this blog, and I certainly hope people like it.  I should have that going in the next day or two.

Dad’s birthday is Friday, and I’m not sure what exactly to do for him.  I had intended to order a gift, but failed to do that!  I’ll figure it out.  Maybe he’d like to go out to eat someplace.  I just don’t know.

I have several things to work on this week.  It was over 100º this week, so the 90º feel like a break.  I need to finish up planning for my Sunshine Garden (which I will do a post on with details soon), and continue picking up debris in the driveway.  I’m not up to the collapsed burn barrel, which is just a mess to try and clean up.  Once I get past that mess, then I am into large items to deal with.  Most of those things are now trash, but some of the things are worth saving and I need to figure out where to put those things.

 

Here are a few things that ended up on my Tumblr this week

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

This is been an interesting week.  I’ve been able to think about what it means to be proud, as LGBT Pride Month draws to a close.  What is it about being a gay person that is worthy of pride.  So many non-LGBT folks misunderstand the whole issue.  Pride is not just about loving who you are.  That is certainly important, and factors greatly into the concept of gay pride.  The other element is loving who you are in spite of the oppression of society at large.  It’s about saying that being authentic is more important than letting society’s negative messages dictate the aspects of one’s life.  Straight people don’t have to think about it in the same terms.  And now I’ve opened up a can or worms.

Oppression.  It’s hard to explain this concept to those who don’t have to deal with it.  I did not choose to be gay.  It hardly bothers me, but it wasn’t like I was offered options when I was born.  I am what I have always been.  That said, the fact that I am gay factors into so many of the decisions I’ve had to make in my life.  Things have changed in recent years, but I still couldn’t just plan a vacation to anywhere on earth I wanted to go.  I’d need to research and find out how hostile a country is to the LGBT community before doing so, otherwise I could find myself in a situation.  I have to consider carefully which jobs to apply for, as it is still legal in most places (Oklahoma included) to fire a person for being gay.  I have kept my distance from the church I grew up in, and where I would still attend.  I don’t want to make other people uncomfortable, and they would.  When I read a magazine or watch TV commercials, the message is always that straight people can show their affection in public and gay people cannot.  Well, 99.9% of the time, and even then only in places that are safe for the message.  If it ever came up, I currently have the right to marry the person I love, but that is a very new thing.  And it’s another place where people misunderstand how rights work.  I don’t understand what people mean when they say that gay people being given the same right to marry as straight people is giving us “more rights.”  It’s really just the same, and the idea that I always had the right to marry as long as I married a woman is dismissive and ridiculous.   I would love to raise children, but it can be hard to find a place to adopt children as a gay person.  Some ignorant people think it matters, or that gay people cannot have the values necessary to raise children.  That’s just misinformation used to prevent children in need from receiving the homes they need.  And now we are starting to see government-sanctioned discrimination, specifically those who offer goods or services to the public being allowed to exclude gay people for simply being gay.  There are multiple issues I have with this whole thing.  First, if you offer things to the public, you don’t get the right to pick and choose your customer.  These people denying cakes to gay couples aren’t likely asking their other customers questions to determine if their beliefs line up.  And that makes the whole thing arbitrary.  If a company want to only bake cakes for Baptist weddings, or for Catholic weddings, that would be a business model that allowed for an exclusive clientele and would not be discriminatory.  My other big issue with these “religious freedom” people is that refusing to do business with gay people actually negates their argument.  Jesus did not say to love your neighbor, except that one over there.  He did not say be in the world, not of the world, unless you see a gay guy and then don’t even be in the world.  If you are saying that serving those you don’t understand goes against your beliefs, then I don’t understand what beliefs you are even trying to defend.  It’s not Christianity.  It seems that there is a new ‘Murica religion, based on the idea that if you are not white, straight, and wrapped in an American flag, you are the enemy.  It’s a cult, not a religion.  Straight people don’t have to deal with things like this, specifically straight white people.  And when I hear people talk about “Straight Pride Month” or things of that nature I get frustrated.  Every month is “Straight Pride Month,” and y’all don’t have to fight for dignity.

And so it is sometimes hard to keep my head up as a gay person.  The world sometimes comes for us, and being proud is about saying “not today Satan.”  It’s about showing that what other people think of us is not our problem, and it is about expressing our true selves.  Because if we stop fighting and stop showing that we exist, we will be slowly asked to get back into the box and hidden away again.  Things have been getting better for a while now, and I hope that these recent slips backward are just a blip, but we have a long way to go.

In other news, I got the new part of the flowerbed mulched.  It’s looking good.  I will eventually need to add edging of some sort.  I don’t really know what I want there.  The crapemyrltes I planted have started showing new growth, and the roses are continuing to do well.. mostly.  The JFK & Copper roses did not make it this year, and I’ll just take that as an opportunity for new roses next Spring.  I’d love to find a Herbert Hoover or a Mark Twain, or maybe even a Mme. Alfred Carrière climbing rose.  I did get a couple of arborvitae, which I had intend to not plant until fall, but they were a good price and I don’t mind keeping a close eye on a couple for the summer.

I’ve started feeling more like getting back to the business of living my life.  It’s remained a challenge for me, but I’m trying.  Just staring off into the distance doesn’t solve anything.

 

Artists I Featured This Week: Konstantin Somov, Sergey Sovkov, & Ismael Álvarez

Other People I Featured This Week:

Tumblr Posts This Week:

SaveSave

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

It’s been a stormy weekend, which I love.  The rest of the week felt  a little chaotic, but life in general seems a little chaotic right now.  I did start working on an art project, which I hadn’t done in a very long time!  I’m excited about it, but more I’m excited to just get a few things done finally.

I’ve been working on my Thoughts On Humans series, and I’m enjoying writing it.  I do worry that I babble a lot and say very little, but I’m hoping that I get better at making coherent thoughts as I do it more.  I’m also trying to figure out how to get the word out that I’m active again.  I love having people who are reading and commenting, but I had been inactive for so many years that I need to rebuild that group.  I don’t want to annoy folks for sure, but I do want to figure out how to get the word out.

This world seems to be falling apart.  I try to keep my politics to myself, but I cannot fail to comment on the imprisonment of children whose parents are seeking asylum.  I don’t know why anti-immigrant sentiment has gotten so bad, but it is unAmerican to not allow in those in need of help or in search of new opportunities.  There is never a time when someone needs to be repressed.  When we lift people up, we all rise and this world becomes a better place.  There is a persistent narrative being pushed that immigrants are coming to take our jobs and commit crimes against us.  That is blatant racism in my opinion.  There aren’t droves of people just waiting to come destroy us.  We are a melting pot, a mix of native, immigrant, and forcibly relocated people.  We are a country without a single culture or color, a land where the rest of the world should be able to look and see endless diversity.  Tribalism and racism dressed up as nationalism is unacceptable.  It’s also antithetical to the values so commonly invoked: American, Christian, human.  Hate cannot be defeated with hate, and so the way forward is difficult.  Those of us who believe that loving our neighbor is a core piece of our morality will have to work hard to combat the hate with love.

A few humans I wrote about this week:

Featured Art This Week:  

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

It’s been another week when I’ve felt like I am moving slowly and the rest of the world is rushing around me.  I find myself increasingly thinking to myself that I want to show Mom a video or picture or craft project.  It’s frustrating.

I planted 3 crapemyrtles.  I’m really working toward my gardening plan that I’ve been working on since last year.  Tomorrow is two weeks since I planted all the roses out here.  9 of 11 have growth on them already and the two that don’t look alive still, one more than the other.  I did also plant 6 rosa rugosas, but those don’t have growth on them.  I’m keeping my fingers crossed and not putting too much pressure on it all.  I also found some Virginia Creeper growing up the back of the house, which is great.  I want it there so I hope it makes it.  Oh, the lawn mower finally was returned after being repaired.  So, I mowed.  It had been so long that the lawn is having a hard time recovering, but it will in time.  Hopefully we can get some rain soon.  That will help.

I’ve been much more interested in being alone this week.  I think everyone has really.  That said, things seem less… desperate?  I don’t know how to articulate, but I know there are many people who instantly know what I’m talking about.

Art Featured This Week:

 

Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

SaveSave

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

I still feel like I’m in slow motion; the world is rushing around me.  I’m feeling more at peace, but I’m definitely still frustrated and confused.  I suspect I will feel like this for a long time.

Mom and I had ordered a whole bunch of roses to plant around her house and mine.  With the help of Conner and Justin, I got all of those planted.  We planted 17 total new roses.  I’m also attempting to propagate from one of my existing climbing roses, which is going well so far.  The roses were planted on Monday, and one has new leaves already.  I’ve also got honeysuckle started, but only one of six plants is showing new growth so far.  I’ll keep being patient with them.  Here are some of the roses I planted.  I also planted 6 Rosa Rugosas & 1 Lady Banks Climbing Rose, not pictured.  (Rose Bushes Pictured:  Copper, JFK, Pink Fairy Cushion, Oranges N Lemons; Climbing Roses Pictured: Lemon Butter, Zephirine Drouhin, White Dawn, Orange Velvet)

I’ve also got things around the house planned for times when it is too hot.  I’m trying to fill my time up with projects, and that seems to be helping a little bit at least.

The porch cats now have 5 kittens.  Last year only 1 kitten survived (of 2), so they are already having a more successful year.  Most of the time I wish they’d all just disappear, but I do like when their are kittens to play with.  That almost makes all these cats worth having!

I got started on thank you cards.  It’s a job; a much bigger job than I expected.  I’m not falling apart writing them, and that makes me feel a little better about things.

Next week I’m hoping to finish up the thank you cards and get a few more things planted.  I’m also hoping the lawn mower returns home; it’s been in the shop for 3 weeks now.  I have grass turning into a forest out there!

Artists featured on the site this week:

The Oklahoma Family Tumblr is going well.  People, mostly family, seem to be enjoying the photos!

 

 

SaveSave

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

A few weeks ago, I was listening to music after spending the night helping my mom in and out of bed as she recovered from a collapsed lung.  I hadn’t left her house yet, and she came into the living room to join me.  We didn’t talk; we just sat and listened to the music as the sun came up over the trees and filled the living room with light.  It was a peaceful moment.  We talked briefly after a while, and then I went home to sleep before coming back the next night.  She stayed in the living room for the morning, watching TV and visiting with my dad.  If I had known then that it was the last time I would spend time with her in her living room, I would have stayed all day.

My days are like that right now.  Everything is about Mom.  The roses she and I ordered came in yesterday, a week and a half after she passed.  On her desk sit the art project she was working on, four 6×6 canvases featuring her with her grandkids.  On her doors hang the wreaths she had ordered for summer; they arrived the week she went to the ER, one being only taken out of its box when we were getting the house ready for visitors.  I’ve caught family members talking about the pain she was in, which she was.  I’ve heard them hint at how she seemed to have lost some of her spirit, which she had.  But I don’t want anyone to think for a moment that she had ever given up on living.  Nobody loved life more than she did.

Mom’s life had become about pain and struggling through the many surgeries she had over the past ten years.  I’ve lost count; she had lost count.  But never did a surgery keep her down.  She fought through it because she did not want to be an ‘old person’ and never meant to end up spending so much of her life in bed recovering.  These recoveries were temporary, and she spent her time either getting ready to fight after a surgery or working on getting back to her life.  Being stuck in bed made her feel left out at times, and it was frustrating for her to not be able to join her sister, friends, and other family on various outings and vacations.  She wished she could go to church every Sunday, as her church family was so much a part of who she had always been.  She wanted to be healthy enough to stay with her granddaughters more often, but did not have the ability lately.  But most people didn’t know any of these feelings.  Mom did not complain about her plight to people.  She didn’t want others to ever feel bad for enjoying their own lives, even if she couldn’t be a part of it.

ER visits had become so routine, so when she was rushed to the hospital on May 18 it didn’t even phase me.  I thought to myself that I hoped she stayed through the weekend; the stays in the hospital were often good for her and gave me peace of mind that someone was checking her out.  I also felt relieved that I would get a little extra sleep over the weekend.  Then they called me from the hospital to say she was being transferred to Oklahoma City.  Dad didn’t seem to remember what the doctors had told him, and Mom and I shouted at one another through his speaker.  She told me it was her colon and they needed to do surgery.  I have no idea what I said to her, but it was definitely not the right thing.  There is no way it could have been.  It was the last time we would talk to one another.  How could I have known, and what words would we have used.  She was aware the next day as she slipped from up, and could nod/shake her head.  I was able to talk to her then, but it wasn’t a conversation.

This doesn’t feel real.  I’ve passed the part when I think I might finally wake up, but now I keep thinking she will come home from a trip she’s been on.  But at the same time, I’m empty.  My whole world has been consumed by this growing emptiness, and mostly life seems pointless.  It’s raw of course, but it is hard to see what meaning I’ll be able to find in life.

I’m babbling.

I’ve been spending a lot of time on my front porch, listening to birds in the morning and watching fireflies in the evenings.  The birds don’t seem to know that the color has gone from the world.  The fireflies still light up the night, even though life is so fleeting.  I’m not sure what to think about it all, or even if I’m thinking about anything at all.  Every time I start slipping into despair, it starts to rain and I can’t help but find joy in storms.  Joy seems inappropriate.  I have moments when I laugh or smile and think to myself that I’m being disrespectful.  That’s such a backward thought.  Mom loved life, saw the good it it always, and wouldn’t want anyone to despair.

This was not a part of my plan.  I never imagined I would lose my mom in my 30s;  it feels stupid.  I was ready to watch movies with her, to laugh with her, and to enjoy the nature around us with her well into my 60s.  I deserved that.  She deserved that.  And now I have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life.

Mom’s final moments were spent surrounded by family.  She understood what was happening, and knew she was not going to make it.  It was so sudden, so the fact that everyone could get there was a miracle.  We cried, we sang songs, we prayed.  The room was so filled with love and life, I cannot think of a more fitting situation for her to passing.  We were singing I Can Only Imagine though our tears when the nurse came in and nodded her head.  I felt like I had been shot in the stomach and we continued on.  Brent and Dad were each holding her hands and they felt her relax and slip away.  Sobbing followed, and family trickled out to the waiting room.  I sat in the chair in the corner of the room and wanted to stay there forever.  Once everything had been gathered, my brother and I finally left the room, leaving her by herself.  It made me numb.  It’s typically not fair to a person to remember that person for one day in their life.  People tend to dwell on a person’s death and not on their life.  I’m sure I’ll do that for a while, but if I’m going to have to focus on her last day, I will at least have those beautiful final moments to focus on.

It’s true: Mom won’t be in pain anymore.  She didn’t want to give up on life, but she doesn’t have to fight through so much pain.  That’s going to comfort me one day, but today is not that day.

This weekend, my nephew Conner and I will plant the roses Mom and I had picked out.  And I’ll makes sure they are planted where she wanted them.  And I will just try my best to get from one day to the next.  I’m going to be sad for a long time, but there are things to be done.

SaveSave

SaveSave

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

LaDonna Marie Fuchs

On May 19, 2018, LaDonna Marie Fuchs finished her work here on Earth.  She had done what she needed to do, and in spite of protests by her loved ones, it was time for her to accept her reward and move on to the next life.

LaDonna was born October 18, 1953 in Champaign, Illinois to Billy & Christine Tucker.  She grew up in Stillwater, Oklahoma with her sister Ann and brother Stan.  She graduated from Stillwater High School in 1971 and received her Bachelors degree in Early Childhood Education from Oklahoma State University.  She was a member of the Stillwater Church of Christ.  It was there that she added chosen family members Dale & Mary Combs, whose children David and Mark would be added to LaDonna’s life as brothers.

LaDonna fell in love with Curtis Fuchs in 1977, and the two of them married August 20 of that year.  They had three children:  Brent in 1978, Brian in 1979, and Bradley in 1981.  Each of them can confirm that LaDonna was the best mom anyone could have.  Her incredible love of life, of God, and of children made for a warm and happy home, which they made in Stillwater.

LaDonna’s love of children eventually became too much for just her own, and she and Curtis started Rainbow Preschool at Stillwater Church of Christ in 1982.  It was open until 2007.  There, LaDonna showed her incredible skills at teaching and guiding children.

In 2001, LaDonna started her role as Nana, a position that filled her heart with more joy than she knew she could have.  Conner, KC, Jason, and Avery made her life even more beautiful, and she thanked God everyday for allowing her to be their Nana.  People, especially children, were her ministry.  She even took on the role of second Mom to Justin & Simona, and Nana to Abby because there was no limit to her love.  And her home was open to countless people, whose happiness and comfort was her greatest concern.

She was preceded in death by her parents Billy & Christine Tucker of Stillwater, OK; niece Rechelle Bystedt of Anchorage, AK; as well as close family friends Dale & Mary Combs of Broken Arrow, OK.  She is survived by her husband of 41 years, Curtis Fuchs; sons Brent Fuchs of Edmond, OK, Brian Fuchs of Glencoe, OK & Bradley Fuchs of Stillwater, OK; her grandkids Conner, KC, Jason & Avery: sister Ann Wilkinson (Ron) of Tulsa, OK; brother Stan Tucker (Michael McDermott) of Fort Worth, TX; chosen brother David Combs (Lisa) of Broken Arrow, OK; chosen brother Mark Combs (Krista) of San Antonio, TX; sister-in-law Rita Wilson (Jerry) of Anchorage, AK; nieces Rebecca Stone (Luke) of Flower Mound, TX & Annie Tucker (Adam Ampaipitakwong) of Dallas, TX; Denise Rogers (Matt) of Chugiak, AK; nephews Mark Wilkinson of Georgetown, Kentucky; Matt Wilkinson (Cheryl) of Bixby, OK; & Christian “Opie” Tucker (Laura) of Waco, TX; Les Wilson (Kim) of St. Louis, MO; and other family members Emily Combs (and son Levi) of Broken Arrow, OK; Justin Ward of Glencoe, OK; Abby Dye of Perkins, OK; and dog Chip.  She also leaves behind countless friends who meant the world to her.

Services will be at Stillwater Church of Christ on Sunday, May 27, 2018, 2:00 p.m.  LaDonna will be laid to rest at Sunset Memorial Gardens in Stillwater, OK.

(Obituary written by me.  Pictures are from the handout I created for the funeral.  The missing page has the obituary printed on it.)

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

Armadillo

I squish through
henbit and moist soil
under moonlight, slowly
taking the usual path,
intriguing cats who think
they might soon be fed
and startling an armadillo
digging for grubs or worms
in the yard, ensuring that
it will continue being soft
and moist.
She’s a frequent visitor,
nearly at times earning
a name, an honor not
even given to the cats I feed.
The distance increases,
nightly pulling, stretching.
The air is cold and heavy,
the armadillo a distraction
from the fear and frustration
I find myself falling toward.
I’m anxious to see Mom,
the path has turned to gravel
and the house seems further
than it was last night,
when the armadillo was on
the other side of the yard,
making a racket through
last year’s dry leaves
still undisturbed where
they fell, spilling out
around the trunks of trees.
One day, the nights
will be for sleeping
and everyone will be whole.

Notes

Written April 2018 in Payne County, Oklahoma.

Brian Fuchs, “Armadillo” from Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Scissortail Press, 2020)

By:
On:
With: 0 Comments

 

It’s been an eventful week!  Thanksgiving for our family was divided into two dinners, one at my younger brother’s house and one at my parents’ house.  They were wrought with the usual frustrations that are long forgotten after we sat down to enjoy the meals prepared.  Brad’s Thanksgiving Eve dinner was a potato extravaganza, which suited everyone well.  My parents’ Thanksgiving Day dinner was more of the traditional fare.  I had two of the best gold potatoes I’ve ever had.  I don’t want to over-sell them, but they were pretty amazing.  There were some other vegan options for me if I had wanted them, but I was not feeling up to it.  And I only had to wait until I arrived home to realize what the deal was.  I was sick.  I have the flu, even as I write this.  I’ve been curled up in bed trying to sleep away the worst of it!  Of course, that means I have not yet put up my parents’ Christmas tree(s).  I have been planning to do that for a while, but life keeps somehow getting in the way.  I’m hoping to have it done either tomorrow or Tuesday.  I also did a lot of blog organization this week, which is a great relief.

Tumblr posts for the week

I’m looking forward to continuing to share art that inspires me.  I seem to love so much of it.  Signing up for the Newsletter will get you this weekly update post delivered directly to your email!