Category: Grief

What Ties My Six Books Together?
Grief · Marshall Flippo · Mom · My Books · My Thoughts · Prejudice, Mistreatment, Mexican, immigrant · Ranching · Spirituality · square dance

What Ties My Six Books Together?

Featured Larada Horner-MillerLeave a comment
Someone holding up things that connect - ties

What Ties My Six Books Together? As I pondered this question this week, I wondered: three books about my rural childhood in southeastern Colorado, one about my grief in losing my parents, one a biography about a square dance caller and the last one about my reaction to the coronavirus pandemic. Then I saw the tie that binds them: relationships and connection to people. So, here’s how I see the tie that ties my writing together:

My First Book

This Tumbleweed Landed book cover

This Tumbleweed Landed, a memoir written in poetry and prose, focuses on people, places and events in my small rural community during my childhood. I fashioned it after Cynthia Rylant’s children’s book, Waiting to Waltz, who wrote poetry about people, places and events in a fictional town. In my book, I celebrated my childhood relationships with many notorious adults in town—Virgie Firestone and the Warners. Also, what I wrote about many of the places and events, places and times I connected with my family and friends—Branson dances and stories my dad and his school years, told sitting at our round table.

My Second Book

When Will Papa Get Home? book cover

When Will Papa Get Home?, a historical fiction, focuses on a Mexican immigrant family’s perilous times during the 20s in southeastern Colorado. Maria, the daughter, tells the story of her family’s plight. She weaves the tale of those people responsible for her papa’s false accusations.

I centered this book on familial and friend relationships and connection to people. Sadly though, this book also shows the prejudice of the time and the misconnection some people had with certain races. But her deep connection with her family wins in the end.

My Third Book

Let Me Tell You a Story book cover

Let Me Tell You a Story, a nonfiction account of how my granddad put our family ranch together during the depression when many other ranchers lost theirs, focuses on the three generations of my family and our ranch. My dad, mom and I had previously released this booklet in 1992 at my dad’s 75th birthday party. It overflows with the relationship between my dad and his dad and my granddad, and the relationship my dad and granddad had with the ranch they loved. Yes, you can have a relationship and connection with the earth! Even though it focuses on the ranch, the underlying topic is our familial relationships.

My Fourth Book

A Time to Grow Up: A Daughter's Grief Memoir

A Time to Grow Up: A Daughter’s Grief Memoir, a memoir about the loss of my parents, shows the foundation of my life and relationships: my parents. Of all my books, this book hurt to write, yet I love it the most! In talking about my loss, I feature the unique relationship I had with each parent. First, I connected with each of them, making it easier to connect with others in the world.

My Fifth Book

Just Another Square Dance Caller: Authorized Biography of Marshall Flippo

Just Another Square Dance Caller: Authorized Biography of Marshall Flippo, a biography of the most famous square dance caller in the world’s, first and foremost highlights relationships and connections with people. Yes, it tells Flippo’s life story from Texas to Japan as a young man and then later in life, but a major part of his life story was his connection with his family and friends. So much so, he required a section in the book telling stories about his square and round dance friends. After fulfilling that request, I connected with callers, cuers and dancers and featured their stories about Flippo. Yes, he truly understood relationships and how to connect with just about anyone.

My Sixth Book

Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better?

Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better?, a spiritual self-help book written in poetry and prose, focuses on many of the perils of the coronavirus pandemic with an underlying theme the opposite of my focus: isolation. Yet this theme emphasized the extreme need I had and many others had to connect with people, to be with people, to relate with people. Thankfully, Zoom met some of those needs—a monthly get-together with two women friends I knew in Loveland, Colorado, a Christmas concert with our local caller, and many recovery meetings. But I’ll never forget the first time I went out without a mask and actually hugged someone besides my husband. Something deep inside me healed.

The lack of connection truly became the hardest part of the pandemic for me, and I see now how that appears throughout this book.

Finally,

This topic came up because I’m a multi-genre author which makes it difficult to market my books, my brand. Current training I’m attending wrestled with this dilemma. But I have no qualms about this! I love poetry and prose. Also I relish historical fiction. Writing Flippo’s biography was a privilege and an honor. I love the variety!

Relationships and connections with people feed my life and my writing. I did not know when I wrote each book that those themes laced their way through each work, hiding in a poem, a story, or my prose. Actually, taking the time to identify the tie between my six books opened my eyes! I’m so glad I wrote this blog to see the common tie that binds my work together. I have a feeling this meandering around and through my six books will help me in my future writing!

If you’ve read my books, did you see this theme? If not, did you see others? Let me know.

News, News, News!

A wintery day is an invitation to read! meme of five of my books
All available at my website: laradasbooks.com or Amazon.com

~For me, it’s Christmas all year long! Here’s a variety of Christmas greetings from Flippo & Neeca, featuring his song, “When It’s Christmas Time in Texas”: https://youtu.be/mpJCUGffU3A

Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better?
Grab a cup of coffee and enjoy a chapter!

~My new book, Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better? WON the 2022 New Mexico-Arizona Book Awards in the Body, Mind & Spirit Category. Have you bought your copy yet? Vist my website: laradasbooks.com or at Amazon.

Just Another Square Dance Caller: Authorized Biography of Marshall Flippo meme
Baby, it’s cold outside! Read about Flippo inside where it’s warm!

~Have you bought a copy of Flippo’s biography yet? Believe it or not—it’s been three years. Go here for your hardback or paperback: https://www.laradasbooks.com or at Amazon.

Afraid of Tough Topics—Not Me!
Grief · Memoirs · My Books · My Thoughts · poetry · Spirituality

Afraid of Tough Topics—Not Me!

Featured Larada Horner-MillerLeave a comment
We'll get through it! Tough Topic

Am I afraid of tough topics? Not at all! Two of my books touch very heavy subjects: death and the coronavirus pandemic, and I felt compelled to write them, no matter what the consequences. A Time to Grow Up: A Daughter’s Grief Memoir addressed the death of my parents and my growth. Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better? dealt with my experience with the coronavirus pandemic—another difficult concern.

Tough Topic #1—Death

A Time to Grow Up: A Daughter’s Grief Memoir

A Time to Grow Up book cover. Tough Topic

When my father died in 1996, my mother told me, “Everyone grieves in their own way.”

I took these words to heart when Mom passed away in 2013. I discovered that writing poetry was the best way of working through my fresh grief. Eventually, I penned dozens of intimate, heartfelt poems about my parents’ lives and legacies and my deep sorrow and gradual recovery and growth. Yes, it was a grief memoir but a growth memoir, as well.

I discussed the emotional challenges of caring for my parents at the end of their lives. My words will strike a chord with any worried caretaker or child watching over ailing but fiercely independent loved ones.

As I explored the nuances of bereavement through my poetry, I provided inspiration and comfort for readers coping with the same burdens. While many of my poems explore the depths of my anguish, others exude humor and warmth—a reminder that there is still always light in the world.

Besides my poems, I included biographical sketches about my mother and father, as well as appendices that provide coping tips, suggested activities, and resources for others dealing with intense bereavement. These appendices offer a world of resources for anyone who has lost a parent or both.

This book received several awards:

  • 2018 New Mexico-Arizona Book Awards “Finalist” in 2 categories: E-book Nonfiction and E-book Cover
  • 2018 Book Excellence Awards “Finalist” in the Memoir category
  • 2018 Independent Press Awards “Distinguished Favorites” in the Memoir category
  • 2017 New Apple Book Awards for Excellence in Independent Publishing ”Official Selection” in the Biography|Autobiography|Memoir category.
  • 2017 New Mexico-Arizona book awards “Finalist” in 2 categories: Biography (Other) and E-book Nonfiction.
Tough Topic #2—Coronavirus Pandemic

Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better?

Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better? Tough Topic

I invite you to read, reflect and respond to the global pandemic of 2020 and successive months. I encouraged readers to think about how the pandemic affected them and how they adapted. The book is intended to be used as a journal, a safe keeping place to revisit 2020. I viewed the forced shelter in place as an opportunity for spiritual discoveries and renewed spiritual growth. The book incorporates what I learned during my year and more of solitude, a transformative process leading me to find a reconnection with my “God.” I struggled spiritually and emotionally. My emotions ran deep from fear, struggle, and despair going deeper into her faith, ultimately making me a better, not a bitter person. 

Themed chapters with poetry and prose add depth to the book. I divided the book into chapters with content developed from my blog over the years. Each chapter begins with a carefully chosen thought provoking quote complementing the theme. My prose and poetry are creative and soul-stirring. Both are extensions of the chapter’s theme. Many of the poems deal with the anxiety and depict the universal struggles of uncertainty during this time. Readers will find them inspirational and comforting. Reflective questions at the end of each chapter encourage reader participation to share their personal thoughts and stories as well as process hidden fears and concerns during time spent in quarantine. 

I felt this book offered a soulful looking back at this worldwide pandemic and then a step into the future, clear of the spiritual cobwebs of that experience.

Someone consoling someone else. Tough Topics
We can face tough topics together!
Finally,

But do readers want to read books about such tough topics? It seems the world’s fascination focuses on lesser topics of importance, a means of escape. Are these too scary? Too personal? Too intimate? Is it denial? Is there a major fear of feelings, tears and loss?

Hopefully, you will take this opportunity to delve into one or both tough topics with me through reading my books and then grow spiritually. I offer them to console your wounded or broken heart. The choice is yours. We can face tough topics together, survive and grow!

Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better? meme Tough Topic
Read, reflect and respond!

~I’m not afraid of tough subjects like the coronavirus. Yes, I get people are tired of hearing about it, but. . . Visit my website to find out about my new book, Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better? and my other five books and three cookbooks: https://laradasbooks.com

~Wish You Were Here: A Novel by Jodi Picoult, one of my favorite authors, deals with the COVID pandemic in fiction as opposed to my nonfiction book. Check it out! Interesting story!

~WATCH MY NEW INTERVIEW on Douglas Coleman’s show dated August 5, 2022.

~MY FIRST AUDIOBOOK IS AVAILABLE: Go to Audible to buy my first audiobook, Let Me Tell You a Story. I’m working on Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better? but have gotten stalled with shingles.

~Do you listen to podcasts? Here are three podcasts with interviews about my new book & some Flippo stories:

Just Another Square Dance Caller: Authorized Biography of Marshall Flippo meme. Tough Topic
Grab a drink & read!

~Have you bought a copy of Flippo’s biography yet? Believe it or not—it’s been two years. Go here for your hardback or paperback: https://www.laradasbooks.com or at Amazon.

~For me, it’s Christmas all year long! Here’s a variety of Christmas greetings from Flippo & Neeca, featuring his song, “When It’s Christmas Time in Texas”: https://youtu.be/mpJCUGffU3A

Surprised by My Words: More Poems
family · Grief · My Thoughts · poetry

Surprised by My Words: More Poems

Featured Larada Horner-Miller2 Comments
Surprirsed

Surprised by wandering through my old sketch book/journal, I found a couple more poems to share. I captured my life in poetry in all its nuances—the sentimental and the grieving heart.

Surprised by a sentimental heart

Vinyl record

Now, I’m That Generation

April 17, 2002

I’m that generation now,

The Oldies Station

I hear “Crystal Blue Persuasion”

And am transported back

            30 years or more!

Could it be—30 years!

An innocent teenager’s heart

Touched by this song,

Then and now

 I wandered down life’s path,

            Lost for so many years,

            Then recently re-found

 And the song has the same power.

            My heart softens

                        I cave in and wish

                                    For all that wasn’t!

I used to watch for all that could be!

 A song evokes that for me,

            Transportation back to the moment.

Surprised by my grieving heart

Ever since Dad died, I thought I hadn’t written a poem about him and his death, but I found this one, a treasure for sure! The memory I describe surprised me—yet I can feel the security I felt in his arms every night as he put me to bed.

Broken heart

I Knew Back Then

August 24, 2002

Every night as a child,

I clasped your neck,

Not wanting you to leave,

Desperate, frantic.

 The lump that’s in my throat tonight

            Has sat their deep in my throat

For nearly 50 years—

            Blocking my air, my thought, my life!

 I didn’t want you to go!

 I knew back then

            You’d leave.

 Your slipping through my bedroom door

Would eventually be slipping out of my life.

I didn’t want you to go.

 I knew back then

            I’d be left.

 The door that slam shut

            The hollow slam of the door

with me inside and you gone.

I knew back then

I’d lose you.

That I’d grow up—

You’d grow old.

Then you’d be gone.

 I didn’t want you to go.

But wanting didn’t stop it!

I lost you six years ago—

Death and cigarettes took you away,

Too early,

                                    Too quickly!

I wanted to share today

with you,

The laughter with mom

                        My place I’ve created

DAR 2003 (Dance-A-Rama, 2003, square dance festival I chaired)

                        This story that is me

And you.

 I didn’t want you to die.

            I wanted to clasp your neck

                        And beg you to sleep

with me,

To protect me and

                                    Hold me tight.

But you died,

And I have no one

to protect me

today—

                                    but me!

Finally

These two poems surprised me today. Just by chance, I grabbed my old sketchbook/journal and thumbed through. Do you have any surprises lurking in forgotten notebooks? Do you dare be surprised? Let me know what you find, if you dare!

Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better? meme

Visit my website to find out about my new book, Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better? and my other five books and three cookbooks: https://laradasbooks.com

My Agony of Waiting
family · Grief · My Thoughts

My Agony of Waiting

Featured Larada Horner-Miller2 Comments
Woman waiting
Photo by Felipe Cespedes from Pexels

Waiting? For a dream to come true? Waiting a long time? No answer? The wrong answer? A reoccurring heartache in my younger life came up last week: waiting to get pregnant. After reading a Bible study program on waiting, back I went forty years ago.

I married my first husband in September 1973, and in December I stopped taking my birth control pills, hoping to get pregnant, and it happened easily. Around three months pregnant, I walked into see my gynecologist’s office pregnant, thinking I would hear the heart beat for the first time and walked out not pregnant. I had had something he called a “mis-abort.”

In Googling it, I found “A missed abortion is a miscarriage in which your fetus didn’t form or has died, but the placenta and embryonic tissues are still in your uterus. It’s known more commonly as a missed miscarriage. It’s also sometimes called a silent miscarriage.”

https://www.healthline.com/health/pregnancy/missed-abortion#:~:text=A%20missed%20abortion%20is%20a,is%20not%20an%20elective%20abortion.

After that life-changing experience, I have no memory of how I drove home to southwest Denver from downtown. At 20 years old, I had my heart set on having a baby. My brother and his wife had a baby; my friends had children. I had been raised to get married and have children, so it was in my DNA.

Monthly, waiting for my period became torture. When my period came, I sobbed and spent the rest of the month longing for it to happen. It had happened so effortlessly once. Why not now?

After a few more unsuccessful years and frustration, we decided to seek out the help of a fertility specialist, and we found the best—Dr. Bradley who started the Bradley Method of childbirth. “The Bradley method of natural childbirth (also known as “husband-coached childbirth”) is a method of natural childbirth developed in 1947 by Robert A. Bradley, M.D. (1917–1998) and popularized by his book Husband-Coached Childbirth, first published in 1965. The Bradley method emphasizes that birth is a natural process: mothers are encouraged to trust their body and focus on diet and exercise throughout pregnancy; and it teaches couples to manage labor through deep breathing and the support of a partner or labor coach.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bradley_method_of_natural_childbirth

Woman holding a baby
Photo by Kristina Paukshtite from Pexels

At this time, I felt encouraged after our first appointment with Dr. Bradley, and he invited us to his house that evening where women who had just given birth to their children through the Bradley Method showed them off. I reveled in the possibility.

Then he started fertility testing on my ex-husband first, simply because a man’s test is much easier than a woman—a sperm sample. After this test, we received the bad news. He had a disorder called aspermia, “inability to produce or ejaculate semen.”

https://www.merriam-webster.com/medical/aspermia

When Dr. Bradley relayed this information to us, he also told my ex-husband that the miscarriage I had earlier was caused by weak sperm—hard news for a man to hear! He offered alternatives: artificial insemination or adoption.

Broken hearted, we isolated individually and grieved over this major loss. I toyed with the idea of artificial insemination until I found out it would be from a donor and not my ex-husband. He basically refused.

During a Christmas holiday during this heart wrenching time, my larger family unit met together to have the holiday with my grandmother on my dad’s side. Toddlers and babies abounded, and one proud cousin strutted around the house and repeated often throughout the evening, “Aren’t we a fertile bunch!” He had no idea what we were going through, but I cringed every time he professed our family’s fertility.

Being in our twenties, we continued to be surrounded by friends and family members pregnant with families growing. I ached to join the ranks.

After much thought and prayer, our only alternative became adoption. We decided on the Lutheran Social Services as the adoption agency to use. They handled the process differently than other adoption agencies. Instead of doing the deep investigation into our backgrounds immediately, they waited until it was closer to our adoption date. They felt if you waited three years or more, you had nothing to hide.

From then on, we attended meetings and learned about the process. We saw other couples see their dreams come true, so we waited, feeling positive about our chances.

After waiting three years, we finally received notification that we would receive our baby in six months. Excitedly, I started knitting booties and baby afghans. My Mom and I bought baby clothes and blankets. So did my mother-in-law. Everyone joined in our excitement. I just couldn’t believe it.

But with the notification of the baby coming, the adoption agency would start the background checks, and my ex-husband knew that. I knew my husband had a drinking problem and had been unfaithful to me, but I loved him and looked away. What I didn’t know was he had much more to hide than I thought, so he left me.

At the same time, we divorced and had to cancel the adoption, and that ended my hopes of having a child.

Over the years, I have grieved repeatedly the barren state of my life.  In 1995, I turned to poetry to express the pain:

Woman waiting
Photo by Kat Jayne from Pexels
 

Childless
  
 The pain of being without child!  Eternally alone!
 No child has burst forth from my womb
 nor sucked at my breast.
 Empty cavity deep inside waiting to be filled with life.
 Waiting, waiting, waiting!
  
 I have no child to pass my stories on to, 
 my history, 
 our history,
 how Grandad created our ranch,
 how special Branson Christmas trees are
 because we cut them down from our ranch, our land, 
 how to do the Jessie polka and waltz,
 how I was almost named Jessie.
  
 My name, Larada, that should be passed on to my granddaughter,
 like my grandmother passed it on to me, 
 every other generation for 7 generations.
  
 Cheated, robbed, failed!
  
 Not woman, 
 not mom, 
 nothing!  
 Does a child define a woman?  
 Does the lack of them define me?
  
  
 Names and faces dance in circles in my mind--
 Lael Marie
 Patrick Lawrence
 Curly blond hair, blue inquisitive eyes.
 Bright red hair, changeable hazel eyes.
 A mixture of him and me.
  
 I have no daughter that has my smile 
 nor a son with my Dad’s red hair.
 No one to call me, “Mommy.”
  
 The empty cavity waiting to be filled has grown larger
 no longer just my womb, 
 but now my whole being,
 my every thought, 
 ME!
  
 Aching, lonely, pulsating to the beat of life
 missing what never was!
Classroom with teacher - Waiting
Photo by Arthur Krijgsman from Pexels

In a way, it’s strange that this came up now; I’m 67 years old. God gave me lots of children in my classroom over the years. My brother and his wife shared their three children with me, and now they have shared their children, too. My cousin shared her three daughters, so God filled the void.

I ultimately believe my childless life speaks of God’s mercy and love. For many years after my first marriage, I had an unsettled life which would have been hard on a child. As I waited for the answer I wanted, God in his infinite mercy gave me different response to my prayer for a child and said, “No!” and I understand why today.

So, don’t take having children for granted. Many women’s hearts break every day for the lack of a baby suckling at their breast. If you have children, be grateful!

Did you have trouble getting pregnant? If, not, why are your children a blessing to you today?

Last week’s blog post:

~Did Democracy Win? Hell, Yes!

Just Another Square Dance Caller Meme - Waiting

~HAVE YOU ORDERED A PERSONALLY AUTOGRAPHED COPY OF THE FLIPPO BIOGRAPHY?   AVAILABLE NOW! Go to the homepage on my website & pay for it there: https://www.laradasbooks.com

~Here’s Christmas greetings from Flippo & Neeca, featuring his song, “When Its Christmas Time in Texas”: https://youtu.be/mpJCUGffU3A

ALL FOUR E-BOOK FORMATS OF FLIPPO’S BIOGRAPHY AVAILABLE NOW:

~Visit my web site for all the information you need about me & my books:  https://www.laradasbooks.com

~Larada’s Amazon Author’s Page: https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B00LLQTXSM

~ Visit my Etsy Shop for all my books for a Valentine’s Day discount of 25% off select books and bundles:   https://www.etsy.com/shop/LaradasReadingLoft

💖 Enter the $400 Valentine Giveaway & WIN a $400 Amazon eCard! Only One Lucky Winner – Why not YOU? ~> http://ow.ly/L7Vn50DkYGN

~VISIT MARY ZALMANEK, A FRIEND’S BLOG: Cooking in a One-Butt Kitchen | Eating Well in Small Spaces: https://cookinginaonebuttkitchen.com/

What Does a Month Bring in Our Unusual World?
Coronavirus · Grief · My Thoughts · poetry · Spain

What Does a Month Bring in Our Unusual World?

Larada Horner-MillerLeave a comment

The numbers increase daily. Today, Sunday, April 26, 2020, at 10:58 pm MST, the world has identified 2,994,349 coronavirus cases! Nearing three million!

World with Stay Home Yellow Sticky

One month ago, today, I did what I do when facing a problem in my world—I started writing poetry to defuse the feelings—to get a perspective. Also like during other tragedies I’ve faced in my life, I didn’t start immediately. I needed time to identify and process the feelings before I could look at a blank sheet of paper and commence! When the words came, again like so many times before, they tumbled out effortlessly, so I thought I’d share them with you.

Woman writing

I wrote the poem below two and a half weeks after returning home from Madrid, Spain and deciding to self-quarantine for two weeks, a month from today. We left Spain on March 8th, and the coronavirus exploded there on the 9th, so Lin and I felt uneasy about the possibilities of our exposure. If exposed, we wanted to be sure not to spread it.

Those two weeks, I didn’t write poetry, but I worked on my current book project. I focused and used this time provided to do various tasks I needed to do to finish the book. But I didn’t capture my feelings in words through poetry—I couldn’t yet. My world was spinning! A friend spoke the word “Fear.” I looked deep inside and realized, “Yeah, that’s it!” In stressful times, I do—whatever needs to be done, then I feel. Yes, I recognized fear as it coursed through my veins. My hands shook; my stomach hurt. My restless sleep left me tired and the repeated dark space during sleep I fell into each night didn’t refresh me. Yes, I dreamed, but no detail remained the next morning—only a feeling of despair and darkness.

Fear, okay, and what else? It took time for me to arrive at other feelings: faith, devastation, panic, empathy, and grief. As you can see, what a mixture I felt scattered wildly, but isn’t that being human? As complicated feeling human beings, we have the capacity to feel a wide range of feelings, and all at the same time!

So, in the coming weeks, I’m going to share my poetry with you. You may be saying to yourself, “Oh, no! I don’t do poetry!” Let me share a suggestion—look for the feeling conveyed then see if it resonates with you. Maybe yes, maybe no, but if you give just a chance, it just might get you!

Fearful woman
Coronavirus Scares Me!

March 26, 2020

I sit here
            In quiet solitude
            A peaceful spring scene
                        Out my window
 
And the world falls apart!
            500,000 cases of the
                        coronavirus now!
 
Jesse, my elderly cat, snuggles close
            Nothing has changed
                        He eats, he pees, poos and
                                    sleeps
 
And the world falls apart!
 
Deaths—
            100’s of them
                        faces of pain fill my thoughts
                        faces of grief flood my heart
                                    Losses too sizeable to count!
 
A world turned upside down
            No, I haven’t lost someone
                        Yet!
 
Will I?
            Who might it be?
                        An elderly dancer?
                                    A young friend?
                                                A relative?
                                                            Me?
 
We all stand at the door
            Of this possibility
                        Who will it be?
                                    I dread that first!

How do you process stressful situations? Create a space place in your world? Share your remedies! Is it poetry? Walking? Artwork? Dancing? What do you do to deal?

~ RELEASE PARTY of Flippo’s biography streamed on Facebook Live — TBA! Be ready! Door Prizes, the inside story, Flippo song bytes & interview clips and more!

~Visit my web site for all the information you need about me and my books: https://www.laradasbooks.com

~Whitey & Gladys Puerling, playful friends of Flippo’s, created a Fan Club. I thought it would be fun to recreate this group. Would you like to join the Marshall Flippo Fan Club Facebook page? Read interesting posts about Flippo’s life. https://www.facebook.com/groups/328325644382769/

~DO YOU WANT AN AUTOGRAPHED COPY OF THE FLIPPO BIOGRAPHY?  I HAVE 234 PRE-ORDERS!  Release date: mid-May! You, too, can pre-order this amazing story! You can select which paper format or e-book format you would like. Go here to order the version you want. Monthly SWAG Giveaways!  https://goo.gl/forms/4D4hwbHdme1fvJc42

Christmas Traditions or Not?
Christmas · Christmas · family · Grief · My Thoughts

Christmas Traditions or Not?

Featured Larada Horner-Miller1 Comment

            Do you have repeated Christmas traditions in your family? We did—my Mom, Dad and I! During my lifetime, I often helped Dad shopped for Mom’s Christmas gift over the years, but this one was special.

Mom & Me in the mid-1980’s

In the mid-1980’s, Dad asked me to pick out a dress alike for Mom and me and started a tradition that continued while he was alive and after he died for seventeen years until Mom’s death.

Any time we wore of outfits alike with Dad, his chest swelled, and he smiled a lot and made a point of letting everyone around him know the history of this tradition—he was so proud!

            When Dad died, Mom whispered to me in her grief, “You don’t have to buy our look-alike outfits for Christmas anymore.” We both sobbed. I shook my head, and I never wavered. I continued this heartfelt idea.

            Our first outfit was a dress, then during the years Dad was alive I bought us dresses. After he died, I bought us a variety of outfits: slacks and sweaters, warm-up suits and dresses. One problem I faced when I bought slacks was my Mom’s height. She was short; I’m short, too, but she was shorter.  So, I always had to buy her petite size slacks so she didn’t have to cut them off. Often that forced me to have to look hard for outfits in two different departments or I would buy petite for me and just deal with shorter slacks than I preferred!

            So, we wore our outfits together proudly and often explained why we were dressed alike. We always gave Dad the credit for starting this tradition.

            When Mom passed away, getting rid of our look-alike outfits broke my heart! I couldn’t imagine seeing them on someone else. Then I had a brainstorm! I shipped them off to a girlfriend in Virginia, wanting her to have them, and I didn’t have to see them again. In fact, those outfits were the first of Mom’s clothes to go!

I did continue wearing mine, celebrating the connection to Mom. This tradition blessed my heart for many years. Do you have anything like it in your family? Share yours with me!

~ NEW Christmas Chapbook—A Colorado Country Christmas—Full color paperback chapbook or digital version. Visit my Etsy Shop, Larada’s Reading Loft to purchase: https://www.etsy.com/shop/LaradasReadingLoft

~Whitey & Gladys Puerling were playful friends of Flippo’s who created a Fan Club. I thought it would be fun to recreate this group. Would you like to join the Marshall Flippo Fan Club Facebook page? Read interesting posts about Flippo’s life. https://www.facebook.com/groups/328325644382769/

~I HAVE OVER 200 PRE-ORDERS FOR THE MARSHALL FLIPPO BIOGRAPHY!  You, too, can pre-order this amazing story? You can select which paper format or e-book format you would like. Go here to order the version you want. Monthly SWAG Giveaways!  https://goo.gl/forms/4D4hwbHdme1fvJc42

Does Your Heart Break on Mother’s Day?
family · Grief · Life Lessons · Memoirs · Mom · My Thoughts · poetry

Does Your Heart Break on Mother’s Day?

Featured Larada Horner-MillerLeave a comment

Here it is six years after my Mom’s death and Mother’s Day smacks me in the face with fresh grief—I miss buying Mom a card and flowers and calling her up. I miss her infectious laughter and her practical jokes. The pain never goes away.

Many people face grief on this celebratory day—the graphic above shows those affected most. For many years before Mom died, I dreaded this day. Why? Because I am not a mother, and that hole in my heart pulsated to an overwhelming size on this annual day of remembrance.

I remember going to church one Mother’s Day many years ago (not to my present church for sure), and they had all the mothers present stand and gave them a flower. Again, I stifled tears being reminded of my lack.

Today my church gave every woman present a chrysanthemum and said a prayer for “Mothers, Potential Mothers, and Women Who ‘Mother’ in Any Way.” Today I stood, satisfied for sure.

Yes, I have mothered many people’s children. I was a middle school teacher for twenty years. My brother and his wife knew my deep longing for a child—I had a miscarriage about the time they got pregnant with the first of their three children. They share their children with me in a deep meaningful way, and I am close to them and their children.

After the miscarriage, my first husband and I sought help from a fertility specialist in Denver, Colorado—the famous Dr. Bradley who pioneered a natural child method. We started with fertility tests with my husband and went no further because he had aspermia, a disease of weak sperm.

So we thought about artificial insemination. The thought thrilled me because finally I could get pregnant, but my husband didn’t agree. So we planned to adopt a child and were within six months of getting our baby. I had knitted booties, baby blankets and put together a nursery. We went through Lutheran Social Services in Denver, Colorado, and they did the work-up on the couple a few months before placement instead of at the beginning. They felt if a couple lasted the four year wait; they were a sure bet. We had waited our four years to get our baby, but as the great day drew near, the tension in our marriage increased and he walked out. I later found out he had unsavory skeletons in his closet, and I was heartbroken in my double losses!

My mother especially grieved with me over the loss of a child—I had been raised to get married, live happily ever after and have 2.4 children. The Horner’s celebrated children and grandchildren. After my divorce, Mom talked about artificial insemination—she even offered to help me pay the hefty price of $10,000 for it! (Remember, this was in the early 1980s.)

The battle raged inside me—I could finally have the baby I always wanted, but I labored over the fact of being a single Mom. In the end, I chose not to do it which looking back; I realized was a wise decision for me.

The next few years I drank away, numbing my broken heart and acting out! God’s mercy won in the choice I made. I would have injured a child with my crazy lifestyle at that time.

The years have healed that profound ache, and I am satisfied with my childless life today, but I will always be indebted to my Mom and her undying support of the need she knew I had!

Here are two poems I wrote in 1996 and 2005 while I was still lamenting the lack of a child in my life:

Childless – 1996

The pain of being without a child!  Eternally alone!
No child has burst forth from my womb
nor sucked at my breast.
Barren cavity deep inside waiting to be filled with life.
Waiting, waiting, waiting!

I have no child to pass my stories on to, my history, our history,
how Grandad created our ranch,
how special Branson Christmas trees are
because we cut them down from our ranch, our land,
how to do the Jessie polka and waltz,
how I was almost named Jessie.

My name, Larada, that should pass on to my granddaughter,
like my grandmother passed it on to me, 
every other generation for 7 generations.

Cheated, robbed, failed!

Not woman, not mom, nothing!  Does a child define woman? 
Does the lack of them define me?

Names and faces dance in circles in my mind—
Lael Marie
Patrick Lawrence
Curly blond hair, blue inquisitive eyes.
Bright red hair, changeable hazel eyes.
A mixture of him and me.

I have no daughter that has my smile nor a son with my Dad’s red hair.
No one to call me, “Mommy.”

The empty cavity waiting to be filled has grown larger
no longer just my womb,
but now my whole being,
my every thought,
ME!

Aching, lonely, pulsating to the beat of life
missing what never was!

****************

Childless at 51 – 2005

I am childless
51
single!
Reality hit yesterday as life in
My 50’s sheds light on my life’s fact.

Who will carry on the stories I have –
A lifetime full of
Traditions?

Who will recall that
Grandma Horner demanded
I have a set of sheets
With yellow roses?
Her mark of innocence for me, her namesake.

Who will name their child Larada?
Will that meaningful name
Die with me?

Who will remember that Dad
Called me Shorty?
Who will share my travel escapades?
My love for the Mayas!

Who will know the story behind
Each Christmas decoration
Hanging on my tree?

Who will understand the
Spiritual voyage I took
By looking through my
Personal library of life?
Will you be able to stitch together
The words that formed the
Frame that I draped
My life over?

That gave me closure to
The search through
The pages, the beliefs,
The heart-wrenching self
That examined herself
Through various beliefs
and concepts.

Who will look at all
My belongings
And be able to define
The complex mystery
Of Larada?
No one, but me!

Are you sad this Mother’s Day? If so, tell me your pain so I can share it and lessen your burden.

Check out my web site at https://www.laradasbooks.com

MOTHER’S DAY SPECIAL UNTIL MAY 14, 2019: 25% off of A Time to Grow Up: A Daughter’s Grief Memoir—digital & paper copies. Visit my Etsy Shop, Larada‘s Reading Loft, to purchase my books.

Would you like to join the Marshall Flippo Fan Club Facebook page? Interesting posts about Flippo’s life. https://www.facebook.com/groups/328325644382769/

Do you want to pre-order the Marshall Flippo biography? Go here to order the version you want. Monthly SWAG Giveaways! https://goo.gl/forms/4D4hwbHdme1fvJc42

How Does Gratitude Work?
Blogging · Gratitude · Grief · My Thoughts

How Does Gratitude Work?

Larada Horner-MillerLeave a comment

chicken close up dish food
Photo by Public Domain Pictures on Pexels.com

Thanksgiving, 2018 has come and gone. Gratitude takes center stage on this holiday. People recite their gratitude list that day–post cute animations and beautiful memes on Facebook and then what?

Could year long gratitude change our world? Where’s the power in gratitude?

We all know people who are negative, focus on what’s bad and are complete “downers” to be around. They have no understanding of gratitude because a dark cloud hangs over their lives–everything is wrong. Then there are those whose world view is positive, see the silver lining in everything, and I want to be with them. They see life as an opportunity, a joy to live. What makes the difference?

I think the practice of gratitude does. If we only knew the deep workings inside of everyone we see. Each person I pass today is battling something–disease, relationship or work issues, and/or spiritual unrest–but this attitude of gratitude makes the difference. I know peaceful warriors with gigantic loss and pain overflowing with gratitude, so I’m convinced it’s not what happens to someone–it’s something else.

Gratitude grows out of a heart and soul that has a deep connection with a Higher Power–Something or Someone more powerful and more loving than my finite self. In that connection, the negativity and darkness that consumed me changes, dilutes, and evaporates in the presence and power of eternal Optimism.

Yes, I do believe that gratitude can change my world. The moment I turn to my God through a beautiful desert sunset, a belly laugh at a child’s innocence or a dance in my husband’s arms, the world is right and gratitude oozes out of every pore of my being.

Gratitude heals all those deep hurts in my wounded heart: I’m so thankful for the times with my Mom and Dad over the years, my monthly visits with my Aunt Willie and her precious dry sense of humor, and my weekly phone call visits with Marshall Flippo this last year. All of these are losses for sure, but my gratitude for the richness each brought into my life moves me beyond the hurt to the healing.

Make a daily gratitude list this year and see how your year goes. Get back to me next Thanksgiving and we will compare the results. Here’s to a grateful year!

affection appreciation decoration design
Photo by Carl Attard on Pexels.com

For what are you grateful? I’d love to hear your gratitude list.

Visit my web site for information about my books: https://www.laradasbooks.com

Cyber Monday Specials at my Etsy Shop:  Larada’s Reading Loft

How Do You Mourn the Loss of A Loved One?
family · Grief · My Thoughts · poetry

How Do You Mourn the Loss of A Loved One?

Larada Horner-Miller2 Comments

Program

Grief is a topic that many people turn their backs on–I challenge you to answer the question because I will!

My Aunt Willie Urbanoski died on Friday, October 12, 2018, and because of family circumstances, we didn’t have her memorial service until yesterday, November 10. We did have a private family burial on Thursday, October 18, 2018.

Yesterday, the service was full of stories, pictures, laughter and tears–a real celebration of a woman who lived to be 98 years old–almost 99 because her birthday was Wednesday, November 7.

A second cousin stationed in England couldn’t attend to service, so her sisters did a live feed to her, so she and her husband could attend virtually–a 21st century way to handle loss.

How do YOU mourn the dead? For family? For friends? We all do it differently. My Mom’s sage advice: do it your way. I have a strong need to attend the memorial, view the body and get closure to the relationship. My best friend, Candy, died in 2012, and I was sick and couldn’t attend her service, and I have regretted it for years–no closure for me.

I wrote my aunt a poem for Christmas, 2012, and a week after my Mom died in March, 2013, Aunt Willie asked me if I would read that poem at her funeral. I said I would, but I’d cry all the way through it. She said she didn’t care because she wouldn’t be there!

So yesterday, I mustered my strength and read it–I got almost to the end before the tears came. Here’s the poem–I hope you enjoy it!

La's Poem & John
Presenting My Poem–Some Humor for Sure

My Aunt Wee Wee

By: Larada Horner-Miller

December 25, 2012

Revised: November 9, 2018

You will always be Aunt Wee Wee!

As a child, Bub couldn’t pronounce “Aunt Willie,” so it came out

“Aunt Wee Wee,” and it stuck.

As I look back through my life,

You have always been there,

Aunt Wee Wee!

When I became an Aunt,

I followed your lead!

I wanted to touch my

nieces and nephews’ lives

the way you touched mine!

I have valued all the wonderful times

we spent together over the years.

You grace so many

of my memories!

As a toddler

I can remember

when I looked into your eyes, I saw a playful sparkle

saying,

“Yeah, Larada,

I love you!”

In my childhood,

at Branson dances,

I remember watching

you and Uncle Hughie dance,

and the fun you had.

I remember 4th of July picnics and fireworks

Bub and I couldn’t wait until you arrived with Black Cats!

You came all the way from Albuquerque!

As a family, we went to Albuquerque.

You shared your beautifully decorated cakes.

We went on shopping sprees to the mall.

Delicious Thanksgiving dinners shared!

Our fishing trips

Our time together at Springer lake

You sat religiously by the lake, pole in hand.

While Uncle Hughie and I set up our poles

and roamed!

My week stay with you in Albuquerque-

A visit to Old Town

The Tram and dinner on the top! I felt like a princess!

As a young adult

You attended all of my major life events:

My 8th grade graduation

Princess at the TSJC tournament

My high school graduation

My TSJC graduation

We’ve continued that

precious relationship into my adulthood.

My weddings

You attended my first 2 weddings.

No one attended the third.

Lin and I knew you were with us in spirit at ours.

As our second anniversary approached, Aunt Willie repeated often,

WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?

Yes, Lin and I celebrated our second anniversary

with you in Pueblo— pictures, cake, laughter and love abounded.

I had several special visits while you

were in Logan, UT and now in Pueblo.

Some people I’ve known for a short time

and they only know me one dimensionally.

You have known me forever, and you know the many

sides of me.

You smile, and

you make me smile.

You know all about me,

and you make me feel good

about being me.

You love to laugh and enjoy life.

Often you catch me by surprise

with your witty humor, and we share a belly laugh.

In that laughter

I am no longer 59; You are no longer 93.

We are young again, frolicking on the floor.

My Aunt Wee Wee!

That’s the power you have always had–to make me smile

To make me laugh and

To make me feel good about myself!

What a gift!

I haven’t called you

“Aunt Wee Wee” for years,

but you always will be — my Aunt Wee Wee!

Copyright © 2018 Larada Horner-Miller

How do you mourn the loss of a family member? A friend? I’d love to see your comments. Remember–there’s no right or wrong way to do it!

Visit my web site:  https://www.laradasbooks.com

Visit my Etsy Shop for holiday specials: Larada’s Reading Loft

Aunt Willie Almost Made 99!
family · Grief · My Thoughts

Aunt Willie Almost Made 99!

Larada Horner-Miller2 Comments

Can you imagine living to be 98–a few short weeks of being 99? Think about all the changes you’d see in nine decades.

Me, AW, Jan & Mom Branson
Larada, Jan & Mom Standing & Aunt Willie Sitting

On October 12, 2018, my dear Aunt Willie Urbanoski passed away at 4:20 am at 98 years old. She wanted to make 100 but her God had different ideas. Over the last few years, we referred to her as “The Ever Ready Bunny” because she had been on the brink of death several times and came back to us full of vim and vigor, but when I got the text this time from my cousin, something inside of me shuttered–it didn’t feel the same.

As a child, my brother, Harold couldn’t pronounce Aunt Willie, so he called her “Aunt Wee Wee,” and it stuck. That was her name my whole childhood.

At twelve, I spent a week with her and Uncle Hughie fishing and then on to Albuquerque. She toured me around town to all the sights. I’m sure my love for Albuquerque began on this visit.

The Urbanoski’s attended very major event in my life and my brother’s–graduations,  marriages and more. When I was princess representing Branson High School at the Trinidad State Junior College Tournament, they came and supported me–always they were there for us.

Aunt Willie’s delicious humor kept us laughing right up to our last visit on Sunday, October 7, 2018. I had the habit of talking to Mom every Sunday night on my drive to a meeting, so when Mom died, I asked Aunt Willie if I could call her; she agreed with a twinkle in her eyes.

We anticipated our weekly phone date. We’d catch up on our lives and seasonally, we talked about the success or failure of the Denver Bronco’s. Aunt Willie loved Peyton Manning and wanted the offensive line to protect him more. Other times we’d talk about the dancers on Dancing with the Stars and moan and groan if our couple got kicked off. She loved to hear about Lin and my travels and dancing adventures. She also loved to talk about her three granddaughters and two great grandsons.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

She was my Mom’s older sister by nine years. She had no trouble telling my Mom that she had it made in their family until Mom arrived–Aunt Willie was the only grandchild until then. All my life, they had a close relationship, but I loved to watch these two sisters together, especially later in life after they were widowed–they lived about 20 miles apart for several years and spent as much time together as possible. I marveled at their mutual support during this part of their lives.

Aunt Willie had a special love affair with my husband, Lin. It started the moment they met with lots of flirting and carrying on and lasted even until our last phone call with lighthearted bantering going back and forth between them.

Her life was full and rich–she grew up in northeastern New Mexico in a small community, Des Moines, which she loved. For many years, she organized a yearly reunion for classmates.

She married the love of her life, Hugh Urbanoski and they raised the joy of their lives, Janet, in Albuquerque, NM. Aunt Willie worked and retired from payroll office at Sandia Base. As soon as they could after retirement, Uncle Hughie and Aunt Willie moved to Folsom, NM to be close to their daughter and her family.

For the last few years, I visited Aunt Willie monthly in Pueblo, CO and asked lots of questions because I enjoyed hearing her retell her stories–how she met Uncle Hughie, how she played basketball in school and was accused of drinking alcohol once, how much she enjoyed being a waitress in Raton, NM and so much more.

Losing her has been really hard. As I viewed her body this last Wednesday, I was reminded again that our bodies are temporary homes for our spirits. She looked peaceful, but that lifeless form wasn’t my Aunt Willie–vibrant and giggly and so affirming of me. I will miss her terribly–Sunday nights won’t be the same.

Death is a part of our lives. How do you handle it? I would love to hear your comments!

Check out my books on my website: https://www.laradasbooks.com

Visit my Etsy Shop for Fall Specials: Larada’s Reading Loft