family · Grief · Memories · Mom · My Thoughts

Another Mother’s Day Without Mom!

Mom and Larada - Without Mom
Mom and Larada

I woke this morning feeling an absence, a loss—Mother’s Day without Mom once again! She died in 2013, thirteen years ago. Shouldn’t I be over her death? I guess not! Even last night, I felt this sorrow oozing over me, but I didn’t understand why. Today, I do!

I haven’t found a “home church” here yet. So, I had planned to go to the English mass at the Catholic church downtown Boquete at 9:00 AM. My alarm went off at 7:30 AM, startling me! I woke tired and feeling that loss.

Because I haven’t gone there yet and the parking is a problem, I succumbed to wimping out once again. Instead, Lin and I went to our favorite breakfast spot here, Olga’s, for a delicious meal. Olga greeted me in her usual manner with a hug and a kiss, but made a big deal about my new outlandish hair color—brilliant mauvey red! Oh, she hugged me like Mom used to and rave about my hair like my mom would have. I needed that so!

When we returned home after a quick stop at the grocery store, I went to church online to my home church, Hope in the Desert Episcopal Church in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Fr. Steve mentioned Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers, grandmothers and anyone who nurtured children. Oh, what a balm to my heart!

Then we watched an episode of our new favorite series, “Ghost Whisperer” with Jennifer Love Hewitt and David Conrad. I relate to this show so much because I do believe there are ghosts out there—and I would love to talk to my mom once more.

Last Sunday we lost a member of our Hot August Nights committee. Lin and I called his wife to see how he was doing and found out he had died a couple hours before we called. Loss once again and tears.

I also watched the video of my dear friend, Rose Ward’s funeral service, last Sunday, crying and missing her so. I swore I saw Mom in the crowd at Rose’s service. I even showed Lin, but then I realized it wasn’t her. I’m sure she was there in spirit though.

Tom & Rose Ward with Mom - Without Mom
Tom & Rose Ward with Mom

That’s life without Mom—so much loss and it all circles back to her and my loss.

So, this month I’m featuring, A Time to Grow Up: A Daughter’s Grief Memoir. You might wonder why I would do that because of the sadness and heartbreak in this book during the month to celebrate Mother’s Day. Yes, there is sadness and heartbreak, but I value the process I went through to grow through the loss to the healing. Yes, I still miss Mom, but this book healed me in a different way. It allowed me to look deeply at the individual moments we had in those last three months.

I hope the same for you.

A Poem or Two from A Time to Grow Up: A Daughter’s Grief Memoir

No Words Now

May 11, 2013

Mom died March 23, 2013
No words
No poems
until May 2.

Lost in the pain
drowning
suffocating
Words frozen
gone
void

All I had was pain!
Loud
screeching
screaming pain.

Normally, poetry is my respite
My sanctuary
I visit to
understand this world

Nothing there!
Only the deep, dark hole
The consuming loss
The utter defeat

Missing Mom
and
trying to live!

Have you lost your mom? Did you ever feel like this—the feelings, not necessarily the loss of words but the loss of someone special in your life? At this point, the words had just come and were overflowing with all my pent-up feelings.


Time to Cry Each Day

August 25, 2016

Is there an appropriate time to cry?
An appropriate way to mourn?

I didn't know how.

At first, the tears would come unannounced
in a flurry,
and I was gone.
Sobs!

I never knew when or where.
They consumed my day,
flooding me with emotion.

I dreaded the next outburst.
I couldn't control the tears.

A grief counselor's suggestion:
"Appoint a time every morning
to cry,"
so I did.

I did my morning writing and reading
with my cat, Jesse.
Then I cried
and cried
and cried.

Does that sound fake?
manufactured?
manipulated?

I don't know,
but it worked for me!

At first the tears came whenever,
a trigger
a memory,
and I cried.

After a while,
knowing I had that special time
alone with Jesse
every morning
relieved me the rest of the day.

I might get choked up,
but I would say to myself,
"Save it for the morning."
I did,
And it worked!

Grief? Yes, I had grieved my dad’s death, but I had turned my attention to Mom. Now she was gone, so what was I supposed to do now? The suggestion from the therapist helped me—maybe it will help you!


Live One World at a Time

August 25, 2016

In recovery,
we say, "One Day at a Time."

In my life after Mom's death,
I say, "One World at a Time."

My feet walk this earth,
planted firmly on sandstone and among chollas
in the scenic Southwest.

My heart yearns for another world,
that heavenly place
that houses so many dear ones.

I am here;
they are there.

Sometimes I feel their pull
to that other place,
a spiritual calling
attached to my heart.

I resist.

I focus on today
this world.

My full, rich life here,
and the resistance quiets.

My job today
and as long as I am here,
is one world at a time!

So healing happened for me. Mom died and I moved on, carrying her with me. On the bright side, her death gave me a deep awareness of my being “here” and the pull of “there.” Before her, I never felt that.


Have you lost your mom? Your dad? A loved one? Do you have a pull to another world? Let me know and let’s talk about it!

LIMITED TIME, SPECIAL PRICE: My E-book of Time to Grow Up: A Daughter’s Grief Memoir at Amazon for $.99. Sale ends Wednesday, May 13.


Professional Reader


Colorado · family · Memories · Mom · MY LIFE · My Thoughts · Panama

Day 21 – Here and There!: A Poem About Two Places

juggling - here

For most of my adult life, I have struggled with “here” and “there.” I grew up, moved and had my adult home but my home in Branson, Colorado always called to me.

After our move to Panamá, this poem came up when I was visiting in Branson in December 2025. Witness my current struggle with “here” and “there”!

Here & There: Juggling Two Lives

The familiar train whistle blows

                  And I know I’m home

                                    In Branson,

A sound that echoes through my childhood.

The wind blows

                  Dust devils twirl on the plains.

The mesa towers to the southwest of us.

Saddlerock hangs to the west

                  As another reminder of home.

This my here now!

Our family ranch calls to me

                  Dad voices his familiar stories

                                    In my heart

                  Granddad looms large in my history

                  Mom’s sweet presence and squeals of delight

                                    Echo in my soul

                                    Memories overflow

                                                      Even though they’re gone.

Now, sitting beside my brother

                  With our stories.

He’s the only one who can verify their truth

                  Our stories

                  Our family’s stories

Sometimes quiet fills the truck cab

                  Dust swirls

                  Silence

                  Reverence for our shared lives

My brother opens up while we ride around

                  Safe

                  With deep stories

                                    His childhood disappointments

                                                      At our community church.

                                    I never knew!

                                                      Why???

The familiar sights

                  Cholla cactus

                                    Graceful with arms extended

                  Yucca

                                    Sharp spikes pointing heavenly

                  Pinon pine trees

                  Cedar trees

                                    The smell I love!

                  Oak brush, orange at this time of the year

                  Dead trees ravaged by drought and bugs

                  A windy trail, bumpy with rocks

                                    Reminds me of a Canyon Lullaby!

We try to make daily trips to the ranch,

                  But our busy schedule doesn’t allow.

Each trip feeds my soul, my spirit, my heart!

The train whistles in the background

                  Of my life here

                                    Several times a day

                                    Welcomed and comforting!

This house I inherited overflows

                  With Mom and Dad

I just used Mom’s pressure cooker

                  To cook spaghetti noodles

                  She called it her “Poor Man Microwave.”

Dad’s pot on the stove

                  To add some humidity to this dry climate.

Here my life is

                  Ranch business,

                  English, English, English!

                  No one knocks on my door anymore               

                                    My brother only

I visited my 96-year-old friend

                  But she’s failing!

That’s the here, but underneath

                  The “there” beckons!

Life there!

Our new life in Panama

                  Green jungle surrounds us

                  New friends live near us

                                    They knock on my door.

                  Beautiful clear mornings as we look towards

                                    Vulcan Barú

                  Rainy afternoons during the rainy season now.

Our life carved out

                  Two markets for fun and people

                  A knitting group

My recovery group

Basketball games, following one of our landlords

A more relaxed life

                  Less stress

                  US politics not the focus

No dishwasher in our rental house

                  Gives me time looking out the window

                                    At the green

                                    The colorful flowers

                                    The hummingbird buzzing the lavender flowers

                                                      Being present

                                                                        A gift!

Here my life is

                  My book business

                  Spanish, English, Spanish

                                    Which I love!

I never planned to move

                  To Panama

I planned to live and die in Tijeras

                  And visit Branson

My here and there

                  Used to be Tijeras, then Branson

But we stood on our decision and morals

                  We said no to the insanity

                  We took action,

                                    Well planned by Lin

                  And it happened

Here and there—juggling these two lives

                  When I’m here, I think of there.

                  When I’m there, I yearn for here.


My Writing Group

I shared this on Monday with my Writing Group from New Mexico at a Zoom meeting. One person’s critiqued: “I loved the homeyness of it. Also, I can relate to the train because I had a train in my childhood. I also love the line – ‘The “here” now.’”

Another writer in the group shared he loved the visuals and it felt so many of the topics in it were universal.

Finally,

Juggling the here and there has become an art for me—I’ve done it my whole life. What are your thoughts about this poem? Any line resonate with you? Any topic remind you of something in your life? I hope it did and please share it.

Larada Horner-Miller - here
Here or there? Where am I?

Professional Reader


My Newest Books

Time Measured Out!: Navigating Life’s Journey Through Poetry, Book #2 e-book

ISBN – 9798989688654

$.99 for limited time

is my truth universal? book cover

Is My Truth Universal?: A Woman’s Poetic Odyssey e-book

ISBN – 979-8989688623

ALWAYS FREE

Was It a Dream? book cover

Was It a Dream?: Navigating Life’s Journey Through Poetry, Book #1 – e-book

ISBN – 979-8989688630

 $3.99


Buy My Audio Books:

This Tumbleweed Landed

Let Me Tell You a Story 

Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Memoir Audiobook


family · Memories · My Thoughts · My Writing · poetry

Day 9 – My Name & Its Origin

Hello My Name is

My name, Larada, comes from my maternal grandmother and goes back five generations. Here’s where it came from!

My namesake, Larada Pearle Hinton Horner, never went by Larada but by Pearle. She did let me know at one point in her life, she went by Laura which haunted me on an RV trip. On May 30, 2005 this poem came as a result of her sharing that little tidbit, but she had been dead for nearly thirty years. This incident happened at a rest stop somewhere in Wyoming. (See poetry shows up in the strangest places in my life!)

Laura

I held the door open

            For her –

            Crippled leg that moved

                        Detached

            A cane –

                        Obviously, a problem

                        For this silver haired citizen.

She said, "Thank You, Laura”"

            With familiarity.

The name my grandmother used

            Instead of Larada.

I use Larada.

I stopped

            Held my breathe!

Laura – thank you, Laura!

She knew me

            Knew my grandmother!

But how?

Was that door a step

            Into another world –

A world shared by seeking souls?

I opened a door

            Stepped into a space

            Between this life & the next

A spiritual zone

            A place God wanted me to

            Connect to my past

            In a way completely foreign to me.

Was this the crystal

            My Mayan friend told me

                        To look for 15 years ago?

Had it been here all along

And I was too busy to hear it?

Spirit world,

            I'm open to you

                        And the message

            The message I need to hear

            The message that will change my life!

(This poem will be included in book #3 of my five-book poetry series, Navigating Life’s Journey Through Poetry, next year!)

Larada McDonald's gravestone - my name

Larada Florentine Best McDonald, my grandmother’s grandmother donned our name, but I have no idea where it came from. Legend had it that name went back seven generations, but I just looked through ancestry.com and my genealogy information in Family Tree Maker and no one past this Larada is named. So, I guess that’s a legend. So, did it started with her? What’s its origin?

I have always loved my name and the commotion it causes. When I was a child at Vacation Bible School in our little country town, the teachers came in from other places. At Awards Night, the leader stood up and announced an award for Orlando Horner. We all looked around, confused and by process of elimination, I knew it was me!

Later in life when I introduced myself, I’ve had numerous people sing to me, “As I walk down the streets of Laredo. . .” That gave me the idea of an easy way to remember my name—think of Laredo, Texas and pronounce it that way but put an A on the end. Obviously, that’s not the correct spelling of my name, but it has helped many people remember how to pronounce it.

One year at a teacher’s workshop, we had to do a drawing of our names. I drew “La” like a musical note, “Ra” like a ray of sun and “Da” as duh! That helped everyone there remember my name.

The picture of my great grandmother’s gravestone came to me today as a hint from ancestry.com, so I wanted to share it and the story behind my name! What’s the story behind your name?

Larada's picture - My name
I love having my name sung to me!

Professional Reader


My Newest Books

Time Measured Out!: Navigating Life’s Journey Through Poetry, Book #2 e-book

ISBN – 9798989688654

$.99 for limited time

is my truth universal? book cover

Is My Truth Universal?: A Woman’s Poetic Odyssey e-book

ISBN – 979-8989688623

ALWAYS FREE

Was It a Dream? book cover

Was It a Dream?: Navigating Life’s Journey Through Poetry, Book #1 – e-book

ISBN – 979-8989688630

 $3.99


Buy My Audio Books:

This Tumbleweed Landed

Let Me Tell You a Story 

Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Memoir Audiobook


Albuquerque · Colorado · family · MY LIFE · My Thoughts · New Mexico

My Five Weeks Visit is Coming to an End: Another Train Ride

Turkey being cut - five weeks

Five weeks ago, I left Boquete, Panama and have spent the majority of that time with my brother in Branson, Colorado. We celebrated Thanksgiving, and on Saturday, November 29, I’m on the train back to Albuquerque.

I spent so much of my time in Colorado with my brother riding around our ranch, looking for wildlife and reminiscing with him only memories we share.

Last year, I didn’t fix a big Thanksgiving dinner because I was recovering from that horrible dog attack. So, this year, I looked forward to more cooking and baking.

In the evening, I baked two pumpkin pies in the kitchen my mom reigned as Queen. I had already gotten her delicious pie crust recipe out of her recipe box, but because it had been a couple years since I had baked a pie, I struggled a little.

I forgot to get the milk out of the frig and had already started kneading the dough, so when I needed to add the milk, I got dough on the door handle, the milk carton and everywhere—what a mess!

But as I kneaded the dough and felt Mom’s guidance, I relaxed into the process and thoroughly enjoyed the messy situation. I ended up with extra dough, so I remembered a childhood treat Mom did for my brother and me. I rolled out the dough and topped it with butter, cinnamon and sugar, then I baked it and ate the whole thing relishing the flavor. My two pumpkin pies turned out great!

My two pumpkin pies - five weeks
My two pumpkin pies!

But because of my absence from the baking role, I forgot how long it took for my pumpkin pies to bake. I used the time wisely, though, because I made cranberry sauce from fresh cranberries. As a child, I didn’t like canned cranberry sauce, but my brother-in-law gently forced me into eating it one Christmas. I had pre-decided before trying it, but with his persuasion, I tried it and liked it.

Then many years ago, Mom showed me how to make it from the fresh cranberries, and I have done it ever since!

What a fruitful evening! I thoroughly enjoyed all of it.

Traditionally Lin and I watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. Mom and Dad did too, so that’s what I did.

My cooking mindset jumped into play and I scheduled the different items to get started. First, I put the 13.75 pound turkey in the cooking bag in the roaster. I worried it would be too heavy and cumbersome to handle, but I mastered it easily. Second, I peeled the potatoes and got them started. Third, I prepared the green casserole and baked it. Fourth, I made Stove Top Stuffing. Last, I made the gravy.

When Mom and Aunt Willie were alive, we had so much fun with a standing battle between the two: did you use water or milk in the gravy? One of their last Thanksgivings together, Lin came out into the dining room and they were squared off, fists raised, playfully one saying, “Water” and the other saying, “Milk.”

The memory resounded as I grabbed the milk to add to my gravy.

I had turned to the first football game of the day, setting our table so my brother and I both could see the TV and the game. My brother and I started our feast with grace, thanking God for this country and our time together. The meal turned out fantastic. We delayed the pumpkin pie and whip cream until later during the afternoon.

My brother and I watching football - five weeks
My brother and I watching football

We spent the rest of the day watching football. I started knitting a Christmas stocking for a great-niece that’s two years late. I couldn’t do it when I was on a higher level of pain medicine because I graft out the name to add to the stocking, and it has to be exact. Finally, I was able to do it.

During the day, nostalgia overcame me. I’ve had so many Thanksgiving in my house with lots of family members and lots of games and laughter around the round table. This quiet Thanksgiving reminded me that it’s okay as life has changed. I can celebrate the past and enjoy the difference of today as I age.

Lin and I talked several times during the day—missing being together on this holiday!

As this was my last time to go to the ranch for this visit, we spent several hours out there. We left my brother’s house at 9:00 AM and didn’t return to town until after 1:00 PM. We had seen five does and two bucks a couple days ago, but we saw no wildlife on this trip.

The Sangre de Cristo Range to the west had fresh snow crowning the range. So I tried to get a panoramic picture of the whole area 360 degrees, starting with Mesa de Maya, DeVoy Peak, Brown’s Mesa, Saddlerock, then onto the snow-covered Sangre de Cristo Range and lastly, the Spanish Peaks, but it was too much. However, we had fun staging it!

As we headed home, my brother asked if I wanted to go through the summer pasture, and I said yes—it seemed he wanted to delay this special time ending.

When we got home, I warmed up our leftovers—my favorite meal of the holiday. I did make a fresh batch of gravy, and it was much better than Thanksgiving Day.

Then, I had several tasks to do before leaving today. I cleaned up the kitchen and ran the dishwasher—a luxury I don’t have in Panama. Also, I bagged up individual meals for my brother. Then I cleared off memory cards for our game cameras we have on our ranch. Then to end the task, I had to repack my suitcase because I had bought some needed things to take back to Panama.

After I finished, I went to my brother’s house, and we had a delightful evening watching the 30th Anniversary of the “Everybody Loves Raymond” show. We both enjoyed the insider show, laughing like crazy at the different antics.

I woke up to clouds this morning early, but then the fog quickly rolled in, so we left Branson earlier than we planned, but we ran out of it before we got to Raton. Because we were so early, we swung by McDonald’s for drinks.

The Amtrak train was thirty minutes late, so my brother and I sat in his truck and watched the first 15-20 minutes of the Texas Tech vs. West Virginia football game on my iPad because his great nephew, Coy Eakins, plays for them.

I’m sitting here on the train now, writing this blog on my laptop and watching the game on iPad. This is my fourth train trip in these five weeks. I do love riding the train.

I have two days in Albuquerque before I head to Panama. Today, my friend Sheri and I plan to go see “Wicked For Good.” Lin, Sheri and I saw the first Wicked movie together, so she was willing to wait to today to see it with me.

Then tomorrow I need to go up to our house and retrieve the mail and check the house out. At 1:00 PM, Sheri and I plan to have lunch with my two teammates from Washington middle school and another dear friend from there. Tomorrow night the Denver Broncos play the evening game against Washington. I look forward to sharing that event with Sheri. Also, I need to repack my two big suitcases so they don’t exceed 50 pounds. I gathered a lot of “stuff” to fill up the empty one—hopefully everything will fit.

I’m anxious to see Lin, but I’m so thankful for my five weeks here with friends and my brother. Carrying on the theme from last week—juggling my two lives!

News on typewriter - five weeks

My blog has now reached over 100,000 views this year! A landmark year for me and my blog! Thank you readers for your continued support!


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