You are not forgotten.....

VAN ORUM WAGON TRAIN MASSACRE

For the past 10 years I have driven a few dozen times to Huntington, OR. Every time I go, we pass this part of the highway where there is a lone grave site. I have wanted to stop for years, feeling a strange responsibility to whoever was down there, to learn their story. Yesterday, I finally made Drew stop. As I walked down with his mom, I was really excited that I was finally doing it! I expected it to be a story related to the Oregon trail of course, being where we were. I was naively excited about it. I'm not sure why I didn't feel the gravity of what probably happened on the exact ground I was standing.

It was eery listen to Jean read the story out loud as I leaned against the fence that surrounded it, protected it. The sun was setting and made the air around us crisp and cold. Fitting I thought. These people didn't save the world, they aren't famous, they aren't people that changed any big part of our history. In that sense, I guess most people would feel like they are just a casualty of times surrounding them. A moment of silence would probably have been enough for most people to feel ok about what happened there.

Call me sentimental, but I felt a connection to these people. For 10 years I have thought of whoever was there, whatever happened. Felling almost guilty for not knowing what someone gave up to settle where they did, what they went through. Now I know their story. I love these people. I love them because they did something I couldn't. I love them because they were strong and fearless, and did what they had too in the face of the impossible. I won't retell their story in my words, it won't do it justice. I took a picture of the write up. I hope you read it, so that they can be remembered, as they should be.

It's all relative, isn't it?

Today was an interesting day. Saturdays are usually packed with activities, families and friends, chores to do, groceries to get. Mine was no exception. Starting out by going with a friend to get some flowers potted at a nursery. It was amazing to see what attitude filled the crowed, now-filled with nothing but plants and dirt, parking lot. In all rights, it should have been totally annoying, but no one was the least bit annoyed. In fact, it was as if our small, sun-deprived of late, town was overly friendly. Eager to help even. Each way I turned I saw smiling faces, random strangers willing to answer questions about their little nugget of gold they learned about beautiful gardening. Even the workers were excited to be there. One even told me she asked to work longer hours to be a part of all the hustle outside in the sun. My friend and I were there for over an hour and a half, and it felt like 15 minutes. My soul was filled with light again this morning, and a renewed outlook on people. As we were leaving, and surrounded (literally) by people willing to help us load up our truck with smiling faces, and old man walked by. He slowly looked up at me and waited until he knew he had my attention. Then out of his mouth, along with much sourness, came "Nice parking spot". It was full of hiss and annoyance. Just then I realized that all this happiness surrounding all of us, really is just relative to your state of being. I really couldn't believe this man could find anything to be so snarky about on a day like today. My resolve to relish in the happy became even stronger as we drove away.

Fast forward to this evening. I know no one ever admits to an imperfect marriage where their spouse and them never argue, but lets be real, it happens. It happened to Drew and I tonight, nothing big. In fact, it was ridiculously small, and we were making it into something it had no business being. Makenzie has this "friend". I put "" on it because this friend just showed up one day on our doorstep one day weeks ago. I don't even know how she knew we had a child around her age, but Makenzie jumped right on it. She didn't care that this girl obviously has baggage that no 7 year old should have to deal with. She always came a bit dirty, hair never done, clothes never fitting right. When asked about her family over the past few weeks she has been showing up, she never really had answers that made me feel good about her living situation. She was ALWAYS hungry, so we always fed her. Makenzie was always sending her home with her toys to "borrow", that ended up getting lost every time. I knew nothing about that, until tonight. Makenzie never seemed to mind too much that her toys were lost. She just loved having her friend over. She came at dinner time tonight. I must admit, my heart sinks a little when I see her peaking through my glass at the front door. Not because being kind to a child isn't something I want to do, it's more the lack of manners and not knowing how to deal with some of her issues that makes me uncomfortable. I'm only 33, what do I know about raising children?? My poor kids deal with it enough! I told her she could play until I had dinner ready, and then it was family night. As I was making dinner, the whole time I kept hearing "you need to ask her to stay and eat". So, I listened to the promptings. When I asked this sweet 7 year old if she could stay for dinner and that she needed to go ask her parents if it was ok, and that we would wait for her to get back - this was her response " Well, I came over here because my parents locked the door behind me and said that they needed alone time. So I'm pretty sure they won't mind."

It really is all relative isn't it? Here Drew and I are squabbling about the back yard, and this child is dealing with that? My heart sank. I was so sad to think of my kids ever filling that way. NO child, should ever feel that way.

I gave my little ones an extra long snuggle time tonight.

Age doesn't keep you safe....

I try and make right choices, I guess we all do. It should seem fairly easy. Good is good, bad is bad. Friends are people you care about and look out for, family are people you love and keep sheltered at all cost. Why is it then, that when you least expect it, someone you care about deeply, completely defeats you?

I don't know the answers...but this is what I do know. I know that even though I'm 33 years old, my age doesn't shield me from being treated like I was when I was 16. Whats worse, by someone I loved. Someone I risked more than I ever should have for. Maybe that's the point, I risked too much. I had something like this coming I guess. I learned the hard way. That seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life since the beginning.

It's strange how it can make you feel so empty, being disrespected. If you think about that word, its doesn't sting your ears as strong as the meaning behind that word should. When we think of words that last, that hurt, that you can't take back - you think of hate, and all the words that spider off it if. I never thought of disrespect as one. I do now.

In ways it's worse than hate. Hate, at least to me, is more honest. It's raw, there is no guessing how someone feels. Disrespect is a word that acts like a thief. In the beginning, it starts off as a promise of friendship, hope, even love at times. It can go years pretending, and then one day it steals it all back. What you held dear, just disappears. Worse than that is that when it is gone, it leaves you feeling empty and used.

Today was one of those days where being the bigger person, taking the higher road, feels terrible. I have always had a hard time seeing the difference between "taking the higher road" and being "walked on". If feels pretty much the same today. I choose to believe that it is the right thing to do, so I do it. My faith helps me hold on to the fact that my life is bigger than this, and it's my job to make the best of things that happen to me.