Happy Birthday, Rae. July 2, 2015

July 2 is Rae's birthday.  She would have been 78 years old.  As a tribute to her I wanted to share a bit of our memorial that we had at Cuyamungue Institute in May.  I wrote about my plan to complete the circle of Rae's life in an earlier post titled Here Comes the Sun .

Most of you know that Rae was a board member at Cuyamungue Institute in New Mexico.  She was the vice president.  The Institute and the land were a part of Rae's life.  She loved the land.  Rae, Stephanie Stephens and I conducted many workshops at the Institute so we have many fond memories.  There was an empty space at the board meeting this year.  We all felt the loss of Rae's wisdom....but her deep laughter was missed most.

As a board, we watched Rae's Memorial Service from Park of Roses in Columbus, OH, that I had recorded.  Everyone was fascinated but not surprised at the many people who attended.  Rae touched so many lives.  I won't repeat what I had written in Here Comes the Sun but you can click on the link to read about Rae's activity at Cuyamungue Institute.  I just want to tell what we did to honor Rae and what our plans are for her memory.

Monday morning we met at the Labyrinth to greet the sun.  Rae was thrilled that one of our members, Julie, offered to build the Labyrinth with stones from the area.  Rae was determined to travel to Cuyamungue last June, even though she was weak from chemo treatments.  We were having a Centennial Celebration and members from around the world would be at the gathering.  the Labyrinth would be finished for all to see.  Rae was not going to miss this, and I am so glad she was able to see and walk the Labyrinth.

Waiting for the sunrise at the Labyrinth.

So this year, at the Labyrinth we each walked quietly along the path and remembered our times with Rae.  We sent her our love.  Some of us hummed quietly.  Julie played Rae's drum (Rae made a drum many years ago and wanted me to donate it to the Institute.)  We gathered in the center of the Labyrinth.  I had some of Rae's hair that I had gotten from one of her brushes.  We had a small fire in the center and burned the hair....sending the energy into the wind and having the ashes of the hair remain to be part of the land she loved so much.

Beginning the walk.

Paul and Laura Lee

There were many tears, but also joy.  Each of us had a small pinch of tobacco that Stephanie and I got from the American Spirit brand of cigarettes that Rae smoked.

We offered the tobacco to the six directions and blew the rest into the wind.  Paul lit one of the cigarettes and we passed it around...each taking a puff...in honor of Rae.  I have to admit....I don't smoke (in fact, I don't think any of us smoke) so my puff was small and shallow.   Paul played a flute...the pure, clear tones were carried by the wind.

Here Comes the Sun!

Sunrise at the Labyrinth

Sunrise at the Labyrinth

We walked out of the Labyrinth, following the path, Julie still drumming Rae's drum.  The sun was shining reflecting off the dew and making the spring flowers sparkle.  The path took us to Thunder Bird Lodge....another one of Rae's favorite places.  The huge drum, sitting in the center invited us to beat on it.  We each picked up a drum stick and began pounding the drum softly....softly...and slowly the beats were louder and faster.  With each beat I was able to release a bit of sadness...a bit of anger...a bit of frustration.  And then, the beating began to slow down....became softer....softer....until there was silence.

Walking the path to Thunderbird Lodge

Ceiling at Thunderbird Lodge

Paul walking into Thunderbird Lodge

We stood in a circle, shoulder to shoulder.  No one had planned the drumming...no one had planned an ending....what do we do?   I heard a raspy voice sing in that low voice...begin..."Mother, make us strong....like a ____________.......Mother, make us strong."  This is the song Rae, Stephanie and I sing at the end of our workshops.  Each person takes a turn to name something (often and animal) that makes them strong.  Everyone sings the whole song...but where the blank is....we take turns and each states what makes us strong.  In this case....we each picked animals that Rae often talked about.  "Mother, make us strong....like a dolphin.....Mother, make us strong....Mother make us strong."  The words of strength were turtle, bear, raven, wolf, sun, wind and others.  It was the perfect ending.  We held each other and sang and felt Rae was with us.

Jackie, Stephanie, Julie, Laura Lee and Cynthia

Later that day, Stephanie and I headed to the three casinos that Rae loved...Cities of Gold, Big Rock, and Buffalo Thunder....and we each played $5 for Rae.  We actually won enough money to buy us dinner at the Turquoise Trail Restaurant. Thanks, Rae, for being part of our lives...for touching so many with your love and joy...for your strength when things would look bleak...for your thirst for knowledge, and for encouraging so many people to go beyond their expectations. 

We are going to build a permanent shelter for an area that Rae called "The Firefly."  This is a table and chairs outside the Student Building where people are allowed to smoke.  Every evening it was a gathering spot for everyone...even the non-smokers.  Right now there is an umbrella for protection from the sun....but it gets damaged and is often non-functional....so we are building  a patio type shelter and naming it "Rae's Firefly."

Since I am unable to get on Rae's memorial page on Facebook, I have made my own for her.  I welcome all to follow it and write comments.  I am still in the process of creating it, but it will always be a work in progress.  I have lost all of the touching comments that so many wrote on her Facebook when you learned Rae had died.  I ask you to check out the site and write a short tribute to how she touched your lives.  It would mean a lot to me.  The Facebook site is Memories of Rae LeCompte . (This is what I have named her memorial page.)

Jackie, Stephanie and Rae on the Ridge

This was taken before Thunderbird Lodge had walls.  It is one of my
favorite pictures of  Rae and me.

Happy Birthday, Rae, my friend.  I miss you.

Mount Rushmore in the Fog

South Dakota is packed with so many places to see.  When my sister and I left the airport at Rapid City our plans were to drive through the Black Hills, check out Mount Rushmore, and then head to Faith. (Linda had a research project in SD.  The first stop was Faith.  I was tagging along to keep her company and have some sister time.)  Mother Nature was not cooperating.  It was spitting rain and becoming foggy.

We were not going to let the fog and rain dampen our excitement for the day.  It was a short drive to Mount Rushmore. The fog made it difficult to see the road signs...but we did not get lost!  I figured that visiting Mount Rushmore in April we would not have to fight the crowds of tourists like I have had happen other times.  We paid our $11.00 for parking (The National Park Pass is not accepted for parking...not even a discount!) and carefully drove the narrow road to the parking area.  The fog was getting denser and denser.  I don't know why...but even when we almost missed the entrance to the parking garage because of the fog...we did not think that maybe...just maybe...George, Thomas, Abe and Teddy might not be visible.

The park ranger at the visitor center told us that visibility was not going to get better for the rest of the day.  I felt bad for Linda as she had never seen Mount Rushmore, but I felt worse for the family who came in after us.  The father limped up to the park ranger...one son about the age of five was hanging on his leg and the other son about eight was using that animated voice asking where the carved presidents' heads were.  Younger son released his father's leg and began running in circles pretending to be a plane.  The mother...looking somewhat haggard was standing by the door staring into the foggy scene while their teenage daughter slumped against the wall heaving a sigh looking totally bored.

"I don't suppose there is any luck that the fog will lift, is there?"  The father was trying to be optimistic.  "We just drove six hours for Jeremy here to see the carvings in the mountains."  Little Jeremy was checking out a book shouting out facts about Mount Rushmore.  My heart almost broke knowing that he would not be seeing anything but photos unless they were able to come the next day. I also knew that we would not be able to see the progress that has been made in the Crazy Horse carving. When we left, the family was disappearing in the fog heading for platform to see the carvings. I took a quick picture of a model of Mount Rushmore, Linda bought some postcards...and we left.  Next stop: Deadwood.

This is our only picture of Mount Rushmore...the model in the visitor center.

Our drive to Deadwood was through the Black Hills...or from what we saw...foggy Black Hills.  It was still beautiful and as we came through them, the fog began to lift a bit.  We got to Deadwood in time for lunch.  Every time I have been to Deadwood has been in the summer and it is full of tourists...lots of tourists.  When we arrived, it could have been a ghost town. Here is a picture of the main street.  During the summer there would be no way I could have taken a picture standing in the middle of the street.  Of course, the rain probably kept other travelers inside, so it was the perfect time to take such a shot.




Deadwood, South Dakota
 

Deadwood had been a lively mining town.  This is where Wild Bill Hickok was murdered.  It is quite a tale that I have no time to tell.  Check it out at Wild Bill Hickok Biography.  He was murdered while playing a game of poker.  He always liked sitting with his back against a wall, but for some reason was sitting with his back to the door of the saloon.  A man, Jack McCall, walked in and shot Wild Bill in the back of the head.  The poker hand that Wild Bill was holding became known as the "Dead Man's Hand"...a pair of black eights and a pair of black aces.

Deadwood had more to offer than stories about Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane.  Linda and I also lost five dollars each at the small casino in the Bullock Hotel. (I hear there is a ghost that lives there.)  We also stopped at the Chubby Chipmunk Chocolate store.

If you visit Deadwood, stop and buy some yummy chocolate there.  This piece had a thin layer of caramel inside wafer thin chocolate.  Linda has already figured out how to make it and so I hope I will see some of these at Christmas next year. :-)

 

 



 

After lunch at Mustang Sally's, we were back on the road, heading for Faith.  We left the Black Hills and found the terrain more prairie like.  We did pass a few interesting land formations.  This one was called Bear Butte.  Legend says that the Sioux Chief Crazy Horse was born here. 

 

Bear Butte



 

 

I will stop here.  The next post will be about Faith. SD.  I had never been there, but found it an interesting small town.

Running to Fly

My sister had a research project in South Dakota the last week in April.  Since my schedule was open...I was able to join her.  We had fun sister time and visited places I had never seen in the other times I had been in South Dakota. 

Our first adventure was at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport.  Our connection to Rapid City was through Minneapolis. (Ray and I had had a connection there last year when we flew to Vancouver and I had no bad memories of it.)  Our first problem was at O'Hare.  They had to close one runway, so our plane had to share with landing planes.  Our pilot told us that we were taking turns.  That caused us to be about fifteen minutes late.  When we landed at Minneapolis I checked my iPhone to see where our connecting gate was.  We were coming in at F7 and we needed to be at B16.  We had 40 minutes....that should be okay....well, then I checked the airport map and realized that F7 is at one end of the airport...and B16 is at the other end.  This was going to be tight...I was sitting in the front of the plane but Linda was in the back.  It would take precious time for her to get out of the plane.

I marked our gates with a big purple X to show the distance between the gates.

 Once I was off the plane I asked an employee if we would be able to make our connections. He looked at my ticket, shook his head, pointed at one of those golf type carts and said that was the only way we would make it. I ran to the driver and asked him to wait for Linda. Minutes later Linda emerged through the crowd, caught my eye and bee-lined it to the cart.  Two other women were close behind, frantic looks on their faces, but my sister won the race.  Fortunately there was enough room on the cart for all of us.

Our driver assured us that he would get us there as he zigzagged around people, honking to warn others to get out of his way.  "The employees are the worst to move!" he shouted back at us as he sped past everyone.  "Hold on, we have some turns up ahead!"  Childhood  memories of riding the Wild Mouse at the Riverside Amusement Park in Indianapolis came to me as I gripped the hand rail.



Wild Mouse Ride picture taken by Abie Danter (found on line)

 I swear I heard him say the gate was about a mile away.  I have tried to research to see the distance between gates at this airport, but have not found any facts yet.  I did read one review that said, "If you are training for the marathon, this is the place to make connecting flights."  Many other reviews said that they had missed their flights.  Some suggested that a three hour layover would be the only way they would ever go through that airport.  I can't believe there is not a monorail like Detroit Metro has.  But we zigzagged so much, it may not be possible...or maybe there is something like that, but we missed it.

Our driver got us to the end of his line.  Relief!  At least, that is what I thought.  Instead, he screeched to a halt, pointed down a hallway and said, " Walk down to the first set of escalators (or was it the second set?)...go down the escalator, follow the B1-B16 signs.  They will take you down another hall, you can use the moving sidewalk.  Then, take the escalator up.  There will be another hallway to your gate.  B-16 is the last one.

I am glad that Linda and I are fast walkers....I don't know how anyone who can't walk fast would have made it.  We arrived at the gate right when the doors of the plane were ready to close.  Of course,  where were our seats?  We were in the very back of the plane.  I slumped into my seat wishing I had taken some pictures of the airport...but they would have only been a blur.

Here is a picture I found on line.  There were numerous bars/snack bars like this close to the gates, where one might have a leisurely drink before boarding.   I am sure many people have had positive experiences at this airport.  It seemed clean, modern and had lots of shopping options.  They just need some way to transport people from one end of the airport to the other.

Here Comes the Sun

Good Morning Sunshine (The sun is shining over Rae's shoulder)

Every summer I travel to New Mexico to attend a board meeting for Cuyamungue Institute.  I also sometimes teach a workshop.  This year our board meeting is in May, and I will be attending a wedding on one of the days of the meeting. It would be easier for me to skip the board meeting this years as I will miss most of it.  But I must go. The Land calls me.

Our meetings are usually two to three days...with enough free time to spend time in Santa  Fe or surrounding areas.  The land at Cuyamungue is some of the most beautiful on earth and I treasure the time I get to spend there. 



I am walking to the ridge.

One of our traditions is to walk to the ridge, one of the highest points, and greet the sun.  We all face east waiting for the sun to rise above the Sangre de Cristo Mountains .  Someone will say a morning verse.  My favorite is this.



 

Those in and around the mountains,

Those in and around the hills, 

Those in and around the earth:

Your gifts and blessings,

this day,

we return to you.

 

 



After greeting the sun we give hugs to everyone and then someone will break out in song...anything from "Morning Has Broken" to "This Little Light of Mine" to "You Are My Sunshine", and my favorite, "Here Comes the Sun"...anything that has the word 'sun' in it.   What a perfect way to begin the day.

The sun is rising.

The main reason I must go to Cuyamungue is to complete the circle of my friend, Rae's life. I know this is more for me than for her...but I need to do this.  I need to walk to the top of the ridge, open my arms, breath in the clean crisp morning air, and release my grief.  My friend, Stephanie, will join me.  She, Rae and I conducted many workshops at the Institute and our bond was and still is strong.



Stephanie, Rae and I at one of our workshops

In this collage, each one of us communicated to each of the other participants in our own way.  Stephanie was song, I am not sure if Rae's was a hug or if it was Duane's, mine was silence through the eyes.  In the one picture we have Rae in the center receiving healing and loving energy from us.



 

 

 I don't know how the grief will be expressed...tears, sobs, wails?  Will I shout out my grief or will it come out in song?  And after the grief...what?  Will releasing it be enough?  Will I hear that deep, hearty laugh of Rae's, echoing  through the wind?

I won't know until I go...until I am on the ridge...releasing my grief and feeling Rae's spirit riding the wind.  Riding the wind, free from pain, free from stress, and full of love for all of those she touched.

(...and aside....As I was typing this, tears in my eyes...my fingers began to type this....'come down from the ridge and play $10 on the slots at Cities of Gold, and $10 at The Rock, and then $10 at Buffalo Thunder...live, love and laugh...do this for me...) 

Thank you, Rae, my friend, I will follow your wise words.

 

Waning Winter

I know that those of us living where the winter was brutal feel that winter is refusing to quietly allow spring to begin her performance.  Yesterday I even got out my earmuffs again to wear while doing some errands.  It is the end of March and soon spring will take her place.  But before she does...here are a few pictures I have taken of what I will miss about the winter.  Each season has its beauty.

A Squirrel Eating a Peanut Perched on a Tree Limb

 





 

A Swan in Swan Creek

 

 

Blue Jay Waiting for a Peanut

 

 



 

A Grackle Waiting His Turn

 



 

 

Shades of Green and White

 

 

 

Half Rack...from Last Winter

 



 

Looking from a Covered Bridge

 

 

Tufted Titmouse

 

 

 



Taken on a Winter's Walk

 

Last Year's First Flowers...It Won't Be Long

 



Yes, every season has its own beauty....and I am ready for the beauty of Spring.

Writing Helpers

My post today will be short.

 

Our new kitties seem to abort

 

My attempts at typing words to read

 

It's quite difficult, yes, indeed.



Molly is helping me write my post.



This was taken a couple of weeks ago when I was trying to put
a picture of my sister on the piece that she wrote.  Ary was helping.

 



 

Just let me type a few more words.

 

Look outside, watch some birds.

 

I'm finished now, let's have some fun....

 

Oh, but now you're napping in the sun.





Crossing the Sibling Line

My sister, Linda, and I did not fight much like a lot of siblings.  Two and a half years my senior, Linda welcomed me with open arms when I arrived one cold day in February, 1951.  Of course, I don't remember any of this...but stories told make me think Linda thought of me as hers, kind of like a live baby doll. 

Of course, we had the typical tiffs.  Usually I was the one who instigated any discord...but never to big fights with pinching, shoving, or punching.  I can not remember a physical fight.  Our verbal 'fights' would rate at a number one on a scale of 1-10.  Those were the usual 'turf war' arguments when we were on a long road trip.  This was before seatbelts and car seats.  Linda would be in the back seat behind my father (the driver...heaven forbid Maxine drove), and I behind my mother.  Anyone who has travelled in the back seat with a sibling knows that there is that imaginary line that divides the space.  Do not cross that line...respect the other's space. 

Being the younger sister, it was my duty to be the first to cross the line.  It was just too tempting.  On long trips Linda would try to fall asleep.  I think reading made her car sick, so she would close her eyes and try to sleep.  I'd spend my time looking out the window or reading...but that line would be nagging me...calling me to put my toe right at the edge.  I'd stretch, look at Linda, and slowly nudge her foot.  Sometimes it would take a number of nudges before she would open her eyes and tell me to stop. 


Stop?  Stop what?  I feigned innocence.  And then my fingers would somehow want to walk to the line and kick their legs like the Rockets.  One, two, kick...one, two, kick.  Linda would tell me to stop.  This would continue, with me finding a variety of ways to trespass on the edge of her property.
"Make her stop!" she would finally say.  And my father would say something like, "Now girls, let's get along."  Sometimes that was enough....but on a long road trip (our grandparents lived seven hours away) the temptation would be too much and I would be at it again.

"Girls, stop.  Get to your corners," my father would say.  Mother would turn around to try to see who the culprit was...but I was slick and she would see me looking out the window with great interest.  After some time my toe would want to visit Linda again.  The routine would repeat...sometimes the fingers would walk along the back window and slide down the seat 'accidently' touching Linda's shoulder.  "Girls, stop.  Do I have to pull over and stop the car?" My father's voice sounded serious.
Those dreaded words....even though we had no clue as to what that meant.  (My father rarely got angry and was a very gentle man.)

This was on one of our vacations...I think we were at the St. Louis Zoo.

Not to say that Linda never teased me.  The one thing she could do that would make me upset was to sing the "February Song" that she created.  She was born in October which has 31 days.  I was born in February with 28(9) days.  She would sing these words to the tune of "Oh Dear, What Can the Matter Be."

Poor, Poor, February

Poor, Poor, February

Poor, Poor, February

It only has 28 days.

 

Sometimes she would just hum the tune.  Then it would be my turn to say, "Make her stop!"
There was more to the song....maybe she will read this and remember the words and tell me.  I promise, I won't go into a rage.  Thinking back, I realize how lucky I am that Linda is my sister.  I am sure her patience with her little sister is the reason our little tiffs never developed into fights...and also why my father never had to 'pull over and stop the car.' 

I like this picture of Linda.  She has that classic beauty.  My mouth
is hanging open...let's say I was singing.