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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.

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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.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

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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!Continue Reading

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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.

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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.)

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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)

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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.Continue Reading