Author Archives: mbtrevino

Heartburn

22 Friday Jul 2016

Posted by in Cancer, Heartburn, Love, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

My friend with the burned 100 acres just called me back. I’d left him a message. I was checking in on him. He sounded horribly low. He’d been on the phone. His dad had called to let him know that his 41 year old cousin’s cancer appears unstoppable; go say goodbye.

I know my friend because of his cousin. His cousin was the last man I lived with. We had one of those truly magical relationships. One thousand lovely days of being cherished.

For reasons that are too complex to explain; we methodically and deliberately moved far apart. He went home to his big sky; Montana. Eventually, he married and had the family he so deeply longed for. He has two very young sons and a wife he adores.

We agreed to cease our communication. But because of my friendship with his cousin, I know about his life; his marriage, his sons and tragically now, about his battle with cancer.

Our age difference made me fear what our future would hold. But it the end, it would not have mattered. Cancer has robbed him of his future. It’s robbed many people that I loved.

This past week of spreading ashes amongst ashes left me with a weary heart. But the latest news of this disease’s destruction of another dearly loved being has given me heartburn.

Still Standing

16 Saturday Jul 2016

Posted by in Grief, Love, Wildfire

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, ,

Today, I went up to the top of Jumbo mountain to scatter ashes;
half of my mom’s, half of my brother’s and all of my great aunt’s.

More than a dozen members of our family traipsed faithfully up the steep, rocky road to honor their final wishes. It was intense. One badly rolled ankle and a few serious high altitude headaches later, we are still standing. I am grateful.

Yesterday, I was asked by a dear friend to accompany him to view the remains of his property following the Cold Springs wildfire. Many memorable moments in my life were spent there.

Was it a coincidence that I was back in town to spread the ashes of dear family members when he asked me to go along with him to witness what remained?

I stood by his side. In every direction, all we could see were ashes of the scorched earth. I stood very quiet and very still; long enough for the moon to grow larger.

In the moonlight I saw it.  Standing alone, among the skeletons of the pines was a single wild currant bush. She was badly charred but not enough to kill her. I walked over and I broke off the tip of a branch. There was life in her. I waved my friend over and showed him. He needed to see what was still alive. I needed to show him.

I am grateful that I was here. I am grateful for what is still standing.

Please Stay Alive

10 Sunday Jul 2016

Posted by in First Responders, Wildfire

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

“Well that was a crazy day! Glad we’re all still alive. Wow…” (Emmit Hoyl, Timberline Fire Authority, Colorado.) I’m honored to know this brave, young man. Our families celebrated many special occasions. I’m grateful to Emmit and to all first responders who selflessly battle wildfires. Living in the mountains comes with the assumed risk of wildfire.

Yesterday afternoon, I got a text  from a friend in Boulder. It showed a huge black mushroom cloud of smoke climbing high into the sky, directly behind the hillside by my beloved mountain house. It’s the hillside I gazed out at every day for over twenty years.

Immediately, I called my brother. He lives in my house. We’d just spoken earlier that day. Our family will be meeting my house Saturday to head over to Jumbo mountain to spread half of our mother’s and brother’s ashes. He was proudly sharing how perfectly beautiful everything looked in preparation for the gathering.

He was napping. I woke him. He walked over to the kitchen and looked at the hillside. He said, “We’re F***ed!” (He’s not easily upset by anything.ever.) That was not his voice.

I felt sick. A giant wave of sadness washed over me; more regrets than a normal life time can hold. I asked him to take a few things from my closet and the mantel; if he had time.

Fortunately, the fire has not burned any closer. It is still not contained. Who knows what today holds. The 10 p.m. update from the Boulder Office of Emergency Management, said “More than 250 responders will be working overnight. More firefighters will be arriving Sunday.”

Why am I crying as I write this? I don’t want people to die. Please stay alive.

.

N Word

06 Wednesday Jul 2016

Posted by in N Word, Name Calling, Parenting, Racism, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

My kids were raised in a tiny mountain town in Colorado. I’d bring them to the Gulf Coast to visit yearly. One visit, we ran into one of Dad’s old friends. I’d known this man when I was growing up but he’d never met my children. (These two were 5 and 3 at the time.)

He and I did the quick catch-up. He asked the 5 year old “What’s it like to live up in the mountains? ” or some version of a grown-up trying to chat with little kids.

(We’d just had a mountain lion pacing in our driveway the day before we were to leave for our annual trip. It was big and my little kids were playing outside. I quietly told them to slowly walk backwards to me. I was as scared as I’d ever been at this point. The mountain lion stopped pacing. It did not advance towards them. They calmly walked backwards to me. The length of the driveway seemed forever that day. All ended well.)

My 5 year old innocently replied to Dad’s friend that we’d just had a mountain lion in our yard. His immediate response was “It’s better than having a nigger sneaking around your yard.” Excitedly my two year old loudly asked: “What’s a nigger??? It is bigger than a mountain lion? Is it bigger than a T-Rex?”

The man stared at me. His face turned pale. His eyes got wide. He questioned me, “Seriously, your kids don’t know what that word means?” Embarrassed for all of us, my dad said, “No, these kids truly have no idea what you are talking about. Want to tell them?” After an awkward moment, we exchanged an uncomfortable goodbye.

Dad told them that the man had been robbed recently and he was probably still worried about being robbed again. Fear made his brain not use his words right.

Quickly, I assured the kids that they didn’t need to worry about a T-Rex coming into the yard; remember the T-Rex is extinct.  Gently, I explained that the word was only used by people who did not know the right words to use. That this man had probably just forgotten the right word. Our family doesn’t use that word, ever. It is never the right word.

We intentionally avoided assigning color to the word. Dad and I had both heard people of all color use the N word with one another. The N word is a word that kids will add to their vocabulary if they hear it. If they hear it; teach them not to use it. Make the word extinct.

Independance Day

02 Saturday Jul 2016

Posted by in Exploding Hearts, Secret Messages, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

Step away from the war-torn edges, of the holes in your once brave heart. Walk away from the lifeless ledges, till you’re ready for this slippery part.

Just south of that final, last layer; in your really, not-empty chest;
lives another secret chamber, and you are truly ready for the rest!

Youth makes us much too eager. Pride makes us way too bold.
It takes hard-times to fully grasp, the truths you were quietly told.

It’s more than flesh you desire, more than a warmish hand to hold.

Hearts bought and set with gemstones,  bound in rings of high-karat gold,
come wrapped in paper promises; fitted sheets that just won’t fold.

They leave an empty hollow, a hunger for a more honest road.

Can skin explode when hearts implode?

Is the fantasy storybook hero – just a yellow-bellied, horny toad?

Turn away from lies and false hopes toward a future that’s actually true.

Let the next path be the right path. Get going, find what’s real for you.

Take this time to try and figure; just whose life you want to hold.

The only things that truly matter, cannot be bartered or sold.

Now you’ve been told. Break the mold. Happy Indepence Day.

 

Salvation

20 Monday Jun 2016

Posted by in Humiliation, Salvation, Uncategorized, Vacation Rentals

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

My ‘Mountain House’ is listed on a vacation rental site. Since the upstairs is a single, separate room (my bedroom) and I’m not there often, I listed it almost two years ago. A corner of the bedroom is separated by a 3/4 wall into a bathroom area; sink, toilet, shower. It is functional, not luxurious.

The listing states this. It’s basic, no frills. Locals call this “mountain style.” I think of this home as my salvation.

My track record for this endeavor is awful. Every single episode has been a trauma/drama. A year ago, I let a person stay. He ended up taking $1200 cash out of my roommate’s pocket. (My roommate had draped his jeans over the chair outside the downstairs bathroom to grab a quick shower before he paid his laborer’s. The cash was in his pocket.) The money was eventually returned. The guest admitted he took it.

It was a costly lesson that left a scar. I spent a year saying “No” to requests. (In order to keep my Vacation Rental Status with the county, I maintain it as such.)
But on Friday night I said yes. It too has turned turned into another ridiculous experience.

I just got a notification from the host site that the guest was requesting a refund. It turns out that he was there with his mom. Apparently, she was expecting a much higher level of linens. I will refund the money. And laugh.

I’ve saved her review as a Screen Shot on my iPhone to remind me to say NO! My favorite part is the description of the bed linens; “Like something from the Salvation Army, or worse.” I hope this makes you laugh.

Laughing at myself is my true salvation.

Twelve Yesterdays

14 Tuesday Jun 2016

Posted by in Assault Rifles, Ban Assault Rifles, Gun Control, insanity, Orlando, Uncategorized, Yesterday,

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

,

Yesterday, I wrote to twelve close friends asking them to please sign a petition and forward it to twelve others. I got one reply saying that she’d signed and forwarded it along. The petition simply said “Congress should reinstate the federal ban on assault rifles.”

My daughter Emily’s Sunday evening blog post after the  horrible Orlando tragedy was entitled, “I’m Sorry, But Your Statistics Don’t Matter.” She ends her post with this; “Enough is enough.”  I offered the petition as a way of trying to begin to make the change. She is right, enough is enough, and as her mom, I want to cheer her on.

When Emily was in high school, she’d run in a track meet at Columbine High School. I was sitting in the bleachers with my 13 year old son and my 90 year old grandmother cheering her on. Our lives were affected by that shooting but we’ve had 17 years of tomorrows. The twelve students who died that day only have yesterdays.

It was for those twelve students that I picked twelve people to send the petition to. It is time for a change. If we can’t reinstate the ban on assault weapons, we have to figure out a solution that can be achieved. Maybe we have to ban the ammunition. Let’s figure this out people. Let’s honor the fallen.

Go in Peace

12 Sunday Jun 2016

Posted by in Forgiveness, Peace, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , ,

Today, my 16 year old niece is hosting a Celebration of Life for her dad. My brother died exactly three weeks ago.  Families can sometimes fracture when faced with suffering. His oldest daughter was considered his Next of Kin. She moved far away six years ago. She never came forward after his death.

His daughters are ten years apart in age. He was a single parent. By law, as his siblings, we had to wait the mandatory ten days before we could legally step in. We claimed his body. His cremation has been ordered. Closure can finally begin.

My own grandmother lost her father when she was 16. Her mom had died four years before. Grandma Genevieve had a sister who was older by 15 years. In a profoundly sad and painful way, history repeats.

For this Celebration of Life, I was searching through a frayed photo album I inherited after mom died. She must have acquired it following dad’s death. It had belonged to his mother, my grandmother. It was filled with the typical array of classic family photographs; newborns, graduates, brides, etc.  Safely secured in the dead center of the album; there was a single, solitary letter; envelope included.

The saved letter was from her older sister. In unsteady but deliberate handwriting this document said:

“Dear Genevieve, I can’t stand your absence any longer. I hope you have not been ill or are sick. It’s a long time since I have not seen you- just drop me a line para apari guar me, it’s not a happy feeling- don’t use the phone because I can’t hear too well. I love you, Your Sister Sarah.”

The Hispanic side of my family used English and Spanish interchangeably.” Para apari guar” means; to pacify me. Aunt Sarah died three years later and just two months after she died, my grandmother died.

After I read this letter, I couldn’t stop thinking about how critical it is to forgive.

I grieved hard for their loss. Something had happened between my grandmother and her sister. I’ll never know what it was, but I do know this; forgiveness is the only way to truly rest in peace. Death happens to us all. Go in peace.

Stranger Hero

09 Thursday Jun 2016

Posted by in Goodness Rules, Stranger, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

I’d walked down to watch the sunrise. I do this regularly but haven’t gone in a few weeks. My brother was here for a rapid, intense remodel of my absurdly small sliver of a bathroom. Then, the deluge came. Tools and damp materials occupy a part of nearly every area of this 600 square foot casita but the beach was pulling on me hard. For me, a productive day is more likely when it starts with a walking meditation.

An easy one thousand footsteps to the water’s edge, I got there as dawn was just breaking. Rising precisely from the exact line of horizon; that round, red, big, bright orb. Gulf water can often be the color of Mississippi mud, mainly after heavy rains, but it too was especially spectacular. Remarkable.

Gentle waves glided ashore. Aquamarine blues transformed to emerald green and the emeralds transformed into sapphires. Rolling rainbows of sparkling water diamonds. Unbelievably beautiful. I walked along peacefully mesmerized. A few other early birds were already out enjoying the show.

I walked to my normal destination and stopped to try and let this gift cleanse my cluttered mind. Our lives are complex. Stories of national tragedies can sometimes tip me over and my balance wavers. I was struggling to wrap my head around a few things that were pushing too close to my own comfort zone.

I stay alert when I am out and about. Walking alone I pay attention. I notice who is around. Another walker had passed me when I took my moment to soak in the beauty. He was about thirty yards behind me when I turned around to head back.

As I got closer to the area where I have to use the steps to get back up to the seawall, a scene began unfold. At the bottom of the steps was a highly agitated, screaming man. I could turn around and walk back East to another set of steps. I stopped to try and decide what to do. By now, the other walker was next to me. He too was concerned. He could tell I was trying to decide what to do.

He quietly said, I will walk with you if you want. And together we walked over toward the steps. By the time we got to the steps, the agitated man had wandered off and the problem had resolved itself.

My morning was rescued. A total stranger stepped forward to try and keep me safe. There are heroes among us. We walked along the seawall and exchanged the ten minute versions of our lives. Goodness rules. There are more good people than troubled people. Thank you stranger. You’re my hero.