Merry Meadows.

Dear Bama,

We were a day late bringing you your Christmas tree, but then again, it was probably perfect timing.  You used to call those moments when things happen at just the right time & a just the right place "God Winks."

Did you know they happen all the stinkin' time?!  {grin}

My cousin Alycia got married on December 1st this year and we found ourselves in Winlock celebrating a new life together, but also remembering a life well lived just across the freeway.  A life well-lived by you.

It was cold & a bit breezy on the morning of the 2nd, but the rain held off just long enough for us to bring you a Christmas tree and pose for a few pictures.  You know how much Ian & the boys love posing for pictures.  Anyway, I just kept whispering to myself that they'd thank me later.  I think you were whispering too.  And one month later, they're thanking me for taking these pictures.  Go figure.

It looked as though someone else had been thinking of you too, as all of the Murdock and Olson headstones were decorated for Christmas.  Breathtaking and beautiful - just like you!

Your body was laid to rest there in Toledo, but your spirit still lives on.  In fact, when we pulled up to the house at Merry Meadows, it was as if you were still there. The American flag waving proudly and the porch beckoning visitors. I was just waiting for you to peek out the window with a "hello Murdocks" - but the wind whistled a tune instead.

A tune that lead us to the trees.

A song that gave us a chance to bring you home with us for Christmas.

A melody that had your voice humming a joyful noise.

.................

And then Mason found a baseball & it changed to "take me out to the ball game" ... which I know you would have sang right along with!

In fact, you probably would have offered to be his catcher.  You were good like that.

Your home is still peaceful and beautiful and totally you.

The trees are alive and growing - radiating so many shades of green.

The rain is still falling, and the light catches glimpses of glorious drops on each bow and needle.

Thank you for giving us 3 perfect trees this year.

Ian thinks they were the last "good ones" left.

And I'm certain you were beaming with pride when he made two phone calls to say:  I'm bringing you a tree from Papa & Bama.

Yes.  I'm absolutely positive you were singing and dancing as we cut and loaded 3 little pieces of you and took them home to spend Christmas with us.

With love for who you were & thankfulness for the spirit of you that lives on in & through us ~

One who carries your name with pride,

Lindsay

the Best Western.

Papa Gary, Mack, Sofia, & Kirsten

Sofia & Steve

Papa Gary & Mack

Trent & Mason

Kirsten & Mack

Trent, Papa Gary, Ava, Mason & Steve

Grandma Ginny, Aunt Merrie, Steve & high-flying Mason, and Trent

Ava - swimmer extraordinaire 

Dear Best Western of Chehalis,

What a gift you were to us the night of December 1st.  After the glorious wedding of Alycia and Florian, a fabulous meal, and some quality time visiting with family we don't see very often, you were better than dessert.

Thank you for having a pool filled with warm water, and chairs to sit in a watch from.

Thank you for having a lobby with comfy chairs, a Christmas tree, and even a fireplace to visit around.

Thank you for offering a delicious breakfast, and for giving my family a place to "catch up" on the latest and greatest memories being made.

We didn't have a Freeman Family Reunion this summer, so this was the next best thing & a treasured time for all of us.

Brother & Sister Time ~ Uncle Tom & Grandma

THE MEN ~ Tim, Tony, Ted, Ian ... and the man of the hour Grandpa ROY!

THE BETTER HALVES ~ Kathy, Deana, Grandma Ginny, me, and Nancy

Until next time,

Lindsay

"the" saddle.

Dear boys,

Someday, one of you will "inherit" this saddle.   And with it, will come story after story after story.

You see, it isn't just any ordinary saddle which you are already well aware of.  And I know for certain that each time it's oiled, the stories will soak into it and to you as well.

It's a Hamley's saddle that was made specially for the Umatilla County Cattleman's Raffle in 2011.

It was tooled for a raffle that hundreds of tickets were purchased for, and the raffle that your dad was a driving force of.  It could tell stories before it left the shop.

Most people will tell you it was pure luck that your dad's name was drawn out of the hat that night.

Most people couldn't believe your dad had to read his own name.

Most people must not know us very well.

Because "luck" really isn't in our vocabulary.

We're not gamblers by nature, but we are totally blessed.

The key to understanding the difference is knowing that blessings are gifts, and wins and victories straight from God.

It’s the not being ashamed of your success or apologizing for the wins, but having the courage to celebrate them without stumbling into the land of arrogance as Jon Acuff would say.

This saddle is priceless.

Priceless because of how it was won by your dad as outgoing UCCA President, and priceless because our story, our life, and our journey can't be bought.

Oil it, ride with it, tell stories about it, and don't forget where it came from.

It's a piece of your story.

~ mom ~

what they'll probably remember.

Dear Kirsten,

I was thinking back the other day - trying to "remember" the most important pieces of Thanksgiving as a child - wishing I could remember more than I actually do.

What I do remember though is that Thanksgiving was {full} - in so many, many ways.

I remember cousins, and kids tables, and lots of pickles and olives.

I remember sparkling cider and homemade rolls.

I remember place cards, and the turquoise counter tops filled to the brim.

I remember napkin folding, special dishes, and not wanting gravy on my potatoes.

I remember dress up in the basement, and old records played.

I remember hugs and kisses from all the Grandmas, and playing Carroms with a cane.

I remember praying in song with hands held tight in awe of how much He really does love us.

I remember the windows getting foggy and the room being full.

I remember jello salad, butter knives, and not liking sweet pickles at all.

I remember pumpkin pie and whipped cream.

I remember post-meal walks along Alki, and the time you flipped over the car.

I remember dad and Uncle Terry almost always carving the turkey, and Papa telling us to turn off the TV.

I remember feeling loved and treasured and special.

And I don't ever remember feeling like I didn't belong.

Thank you for giving my children the same memories!

I hope we have Thanksgiving at your house every year from now until that moment when Christ returns because what our kids will probably remember is similar to what we remember too.  And really, who would want to remember anything better than that?

With appreciation for the traditions we're starting & the memories our children are making together ~

your sister & biggest fan - Lindsay

Bend.

Dear Bend-Oregon,

I never thought I'd be calling you "home" but at age 36, I am.  It's funny how people make a place "home" ... not necessarily the place itself.

You're home to me because you are where my mom & dad are now.  You're home to me because you are where my sister is.  You're home to me because the mountain peaks, the juniper trees, and the sagebrush define you & they helped define me too.

You hold a piece of my heart because those I love most love you.  

They love your neighborhoods, your people, your stores, and your parks.

They love your sidewalks and bike trails, and the river that runs through you.

Thank you for being "home" this Thanksgiving.  I really wasn't sure what it would be like to not be in Madras, but you know what? ... it was perfectly perfect.  

Perfect, because rather than being a place, you were a home being moved into, a bedroom with the comfiest bed, and a table filled with laughter.  

You were a bike ride, pieces of sidewalk chalk, and delicious food.

You were cousins playing together, boxes unpacked, and new restaurants tried.

You were down coats borrowed, bike helmets worn, and iPads shared.

You were days off of work, cuddles on the couch, and napkins folded.

You were sweet potatoes, games, and jokes.

You were slippers, and building blocks, and a new front porch.

As the visits to you continue, may you know how much I love you.  Not just because of your beauty, but because of the people that make you "home."

Looking forward to next time already,

Lindsay & her boys