memories | Belinda Botzong

Gone to Carolina

James Taylor once sang…

In my mind I’m gone to Carolina
Can’t you see the sunshine?
Can’t you just feel the moonshine?
Ain’t it just like a friend of mine
To hit me from behind?
Yes, I’m gone to Carolina in my mind

Now some of this post is going to seem a bit repetitious… deja vu almost.

I returned to North Carolina for a second time in a month. Since class doesn’t start until Tuesday, I got my flight for Saturday and planned a few days at the beach this time. I figure I have seen my relatives west of Raleigh, so now I’ll take a little extended vacation and see the Atlantic Ocean!

I tried to get an airbnb reserved a couple weeks ago but was turned down because Hurricane Dorian was bearing down and the host didn’t feel it was a good idea in case there was damage. So I waited until he passed on by and made a reservation at a little beach bungalow on Carolina Beach.

I flew into Raleigh-Durham and got my rental car, racing the setting sun on the two plus hour drive south and east. It’s so different here – no hills to climb, no curvy roads… just a nice straight shot to the beach.

The sunset beat me but I arrived in good time and got to my little place a block from the path to the ocean. I immediately headed down to greet the waves and hear the breath of heaven blow over my weary, hot and sticky face. I love, and I mean love, the ocean.

I have only seen the Atlantic once before when I did training in Florida and made a one day trip from Orlando to Cocoa Beach then to Clearwater/Tampa Bay! It seems much wilder than the Pacific somehow.

Since it was getting late I headed out to dinner – seafood of course! I love that my rental car is a 2020 model in 2019 and has all the features of being able to guide me wherever I want to go. It also has some crazy features like constantly correcting if you get too close to the line, beeping if someone is in your blind spot, and telling you to take a break by putting a little symbol of a coffee cup and a suggestion to pull over and get some rest! Nanny Car…

I sat next to an aquarium and the most beautiful shrimp was swimming around in there trying to make me feel bad for eating his family… but eat them I did and boy were they good!

I set my alarm for 6:30 a.m. for a 6:47 sunrise. I hopped out of bed and threw on a jacket … which I immediately regretted as it never got below 75 in the night! And the humidity never got below 90 percent I think… what’s the use in messing with your hair or makeup here?

What a glorious sunrise it was – slowly you could fee the sun peel off the layers of the night, lift its face above the horizon one slow inch at a time, and roll the waves closer and closer to the edge of the earth. It was beautiful as the waves pulled back leaving a palette for the sun’s reflection to paint itself upon. The ripples and crashes and foam all working to form a portrait of morning.

Suddenly I remembered that a lady I worked with 15-20 years ago in Tucson lives in North Carolina on a beach somewhere. I know the coast line is long so not much chance of finding her, but you know me if you’ve read any of these posts before… I’m going to look her up on google!

When I got back to my room I typed in her name and I almost fainted when I saw that not only is she listed in Carolina Beach, NC… but her address is listed on the very same street I’m staying! Oh my gosh I was amazed! I debated… it’s 9 a.m. and I’m heading out to breakfast on a Sunday morning. I remember that she is an early bird, but what if she is going to church or isn’t an early bird anymore since she retired?

Well, again, if you read my last post you’ll not be surprised to hear that I decided to knock on her door on my way to coffee, thinking maybe she would want to join me! I pulled into her parking area behind the car that was there – good sign, I thought! Now to find the place – it is kind of a funny building with many condos right on the canal, which was very lovely. I rang the bell. Again. I knocked. I waited. At this point you might expect me to just open the door and go in, right? Well, not this time! I started looking for a pen and paper. I had nothing in my tote bag, went to the car and looked but could find nothing to leave her a note. I sat there thinking what to do next. I decided to google her again and see if there was a phone number. It was a Tucson area code so not sure if that’s old, but what the heck – I can’t just leave and say, oh, well!

I dialed the number and she answered hesitantly, seeing an unknown number and it being Sunday morning expecting a solicitor. “Bonnie? It’s Belinda Botzong… do you remember me?”

It turns out Bonnie moved from the Seashore inland a few years ago. I told her I was heading to breakfast in Wilmington. She immediately suggested meeting me there and spending the afternoon with me! She just had to get ready and would drive the hour to meet up. I was so touched that she just dropped her plan or lack of a plan for the day and took time to drive over 70 miles to see me.

I stopped for coffee and breakfast sandwich at the nicest little cafe with these really sweet ladies. One thing I appreciate about the south is the accents and the sweetness of the people. I think even if they weren’t sweet, the accent makes them sound nice anyway! But these two were truly sweet and so happy I came in. They asked if I was visiting (I have no accent, so I assume that’s a dead giveaway). I told them I was meeting my friend and how it came to be and they loved it. So I also told them about my last adventure with Sheila and Junior… see prior post!

I drove into Wilmington and walked around a bit taking photos of the ancient buildings, bricks, cobblestones, etc.

There was an art fair going on, which is what made me go there in the first place, so while I waited for Bonnie I did a little art shopping therapy. I bought a ceramic light switch cover for my bathroom. It has a sand dollar painted on it, which is my favorite. I asked the artist if there are sand dollars in North Carolina – she says she doesn’t know but that she rarely goes to the beach and prefers the mountains! I told her she is definitely misplaced – there isn’t even a hill for many many miles let alone a mountain! She agreed 🙂 I then bought from a lady who makes pull chains for ceiling fans, decorating them with ceramic pieces with sea life on them. She, too, prefers mountains apparently and thinks living in the Seattle area would be much more suited to her tastes.

Bonnie and I met up in a tea and spice shop. Reunion! The tea ladies loved that. I bought several teas for my daughter and Bonnie bought over half a pound of Decaf Earl Grey, which is not always easy to find. We walked around and saw a horse and buggy ride so we got on board for that!

While we waited for the horses, Prince and Jeff, to rest up for the journey, we started catching up on our lives. We worked together from 1999-2004. We rode the bus to the University of Arizona almost every day together during several of those years. We have both been through so many life events since we last saw one another. We did stay in touch for a few years after I left Tucson, but as it goes with much of life, we had not kept in touch over the past ten years.

Time for our journey. The carriage driver told the history of Prince and Jeff, work horses from Amish farmers. They are two of many rescued horses the owner has taken in over the years. When the horses can not work on the farms, they get sold at auction. Rather than letting them go to get butchered, he rescues them and trains them for carriage rides. They are truly magnificent animals.

The carriage ride was awesome. We went through the historic neighborhood and saw so many beautiful old homes and buildings. To think of the times of the Civil War and post-war, the plantations and Southern Belles dressed in their finest.. and to really imagine life before air conditioning!

We headed to lunch at a pizza place where I had a spinach salad and we reminisced about our time in Tucson working for the University of Arizona together, about our lives since then, families, loss, grief, and love. All the things that have transpired in the past 20 years.

We parted ways after lunch with hugs and promises to keep in touch. What an absolute blessing to get to meet up with her spontaneously, to have her give up her Sunday afternoon without a plan, and to know that there is someone who would do that for me besides my own mom. She would have loved this whole adventure I’m on and it makes me miss her, not being able to tell her about it.

After we parted ways I went around the town again taking more photos of bricks and cobbles and buildings. I saw a huge church steeple in the distance and drove to it and saw more mansions. I went to an art store and bought earrings and then drove randomly around a huge lake before setting the GPS to take me back to the beach.

I stopped at a local grocery store for fruit, coffee, and cream. Isn’t it always interesting to just see people out in their normal life while you are out traveling? Maybe I’m the only one who thinks that’s interesting? I then drove all the way down Pleasure Island from Wilmington Beach, Kure Beach and into Fort Fisher. I was tempted to stop at the aquarium but it’s just so hot and muggy I prefer being in the car with air conditioning!

After coming back to take a nap I headed out for dinner at Big Daddy’s where I was sold on the burnt ends/brisket as an appetizer, then they threw in a huge basket of hush puppies before bringing my actual dinner of flounder and chips. There were shark bites on the menu! My husband would love the logo for Big Daddy – so retro and cute. I was stuffed and wasted a lot of food before I headed over to the pier at Kure Beach.

Standing high above the waves on that pier was an adventure. I didn’t get out too far before I decided people should not tempt nature. This man made structure has been beat up by who knows how many hurricanes and all these people are on it walking far out over the surf. You can feel it rumble and shake as the waves crash high and mighty. In the darkness of the evening it is truly ominous, beautiful, dangerous, and powerful.

It has been a blessed day. Thank you, Bonnie Seashore, for making time for me today. Thank you, Lord, for the majesty of your voice in the waves and winds. Thank you family for supporting me in all my adventures.

Happy Birthday- Belated again

I remember when my mom brought him home from the hospital. I don’t remember realizing she was having a baby or that we were getting a new sibling. I was only five. My older brother was ten. The twins were two. Robert turned to Robbie turned to Bob and we all loved him, fought with him, cracked up laughing with him, and cried for him when he left us at the age of 28 – killed in a horrific accident.

Yesterday was his 50th birthday and I wonder how he would look now. Those steel gray eyes. That boisterous laugh. That propensity for teasing. His love for Christ. And most of all how he would have dealt with raising a beautiful daughter who wasn’t born yet when he left us. How he would have lived with a wife who developed early onset Alzheimer’s. How he would have been Uncle Bobby to my children still, not a wisp of their early childhood memories.

We would have thrown him a party he hated. We would have taken photos – he hated that too. We would have had hugs and funny stories and laughed til we cried again.

But for his birthday this year he has been reunited with our mom. He’s been hanging out with our dad and grandparents. He didn’t suffer when he died. He didn’t have to suffer with us the past five months since our mom went to join him. I bet they were sure glad to see each other. And knowing they are together in the presence of Jesus is the best birthday present.

Happy 50th birthday little brother.

©Belindabotzong2019

Happy Birthday – Belated

Yesterday was her 77th birthday – my belated mom. Happy belated birthday takes on a whole new meaning.

Today I take the beloved shofar to the funeral home where they are preparing her headstone. I will visit her unstoned grave afterward and tell her she missed her birthday.

We would have gone to the Big Lake Bar and Grill for all you can eat prawns. She ate 20 last time we went! We would have taken a drive in the snow. The mountains are beautiful with their powdered sugar tops.

Last Saturday she would have loved my breathtaking scenic out to Everson. She always liked going along for the ride even when she didn’t feel good. She would have enjoyed my venture to pick up a load of old picture frames that a guy donated to the Art Guild. His mother is an artist who is too shaky to paint anymore. My mom would have said, “Me too!” Though she never made a painting in her life. She was shaky though.

She would have loved stopping by the side of the road to listen to the Canada geese and trumpeter swans. And the Canadian mountains covered in thick snow looked close enough to touch set against an azure sky. And Mount Baker and the Three Sisters looked just like a painting- definitely designed with a steady hand.

https://belindabotzong.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/img_8011.mov

She would have liked the guy who gave me the frames and she would have cracked up that Siri took me to the wrong house first. I got out of the car and a guy was out working in the yard in the biting blustering wind. I got out and assumed it was the guy. I said “I’m here to pick up the frames.” He seemed a bit confused but I let that go as he led me into the carport without a word. “So your mother is an artist?” He says “yep”. Something seemed awkward but he was determined to get to his back door. The yard was filled with my kind of treasures – rusty things that make me happy – milk cans and old things. “Is she still alive?” He turns and says “No”. Man of few words I decide to follow him (my mom would now be freaking out – a guy online leading me into his house…and me following). Thankfully as he opened the door his wife is there and he tells her I’m there for some frames. She is at a loss and I tell her about the message on Facebook to the art guild. She says it’s probably their neighbor! Oh my gosh. I look around their property and the frozen pond with the rusty things in the yard — I tell them they have a beautiful place and sorry to bother them. I’m sure they think I’m crazy.

Anyway, my next stop got the frames. Kind people with a beautiful fat Dalmatian. Frames nearly too big for my car, covered in ancient spider webs. But a couple real treasures we can sell for the scholarship fund. A good find!

Back to the birthday girl. She always enjoyed my adventures and lived vicariously through each of us who traveled or worked or took on a hobby. She didn’t want to travel or make things but she always wanted to hear all about us.

Yesterday Savannah started texting out her last voicemails. I sat in my office and listened to mine as well and that’s when it hit me. Especially the final one .. the one where she sounded sick and wanted me to call immediately. And I cried.

I’m sorry she missed her birthday. I miss her.

©Belindabotzong2019

Junk Mail

Her mail comes to my house now

I thought that would mean I get the bills

Apparently the junk mail is included

She didn’t think it was junk mail though. She loved her catalogs.

When I went to see her – or anyone who came through the door, the first task before entering the house was checking the mail.

The mailbox is across the street so she was afraid to go in case she had a seizure or fell. God forbid she take her walker.

On my way in with the pile I often just stopped at the recycling bin and tossed her junk mail in to keep her from spending too much on the strawberry fairies (for me because I have a strawberry theme), the colorful skirts with watercolor pencils (for my daughter the artist) or for any number of household amazing items you can’t possibly imagine.

Sometimes she placed orders on the phone then made one of the grandkids go get money orders to pay for it so I wouldn’t know.

Only I did.

Sometimes she said “go on that button pushing thing and order these,” meaning go online. Whoever got the shotgun shaped plungers for their toilets, I’m sorry.

Then all the requests for donations. Oh my goodness. She would put the requests for money to Israel, starving children, paralyzed veterans and homeless. I would tell her she is going to be starving and homeless if she sent money to all those people.

God sees her heart. He knows she is more generous than what he has blessed her with. She always told him (me, everyone) she just needed more money. There’s so much to buy! I just wanna be rich.

They say money can’t buy happiness but I’m pretty sure she would have been happy being rich and buying everything in those catalogs and giving thousands to those charities.

I gave up telling her to stop buying junk for us. It made her happy. I paid her bills. It’s only money. Every now and then I let her donate.

So the junk mail has been trickling in over the past three months. Then yesterday ..

Oh my. So hard to resist those free shipping offers. The sales. The abundance.

Recycled.

©Belindabotzong2019 g

Three Months Later

Three months and nine days have passed by like a vapor. I only cry in unexpected moments now. I still almost call her, which maybe she would like to know since she said I never call her. But I did.

The house has sold and is moving through the closing process. I went to get a few plants and a chair from her house last Friday and decided I don’t want to go back again. She’s not there. When I come in the door my hands are empty. Before they were full of groceries or errands and I always had to pee after driving down to see her. And all the time I’m in the bathroom she’d be chatting away. And then first thing – “fix my hair” would be her first request. But not this time. No TV blaring. No chatter. No hairbrush and VO5. Just silent echoes.

I dropped off one of her yard ornaments for a lady who had done some yard work last summer. She had also sat with my mom and did her dishes when I was out of town and needed someone to be there with her broken arm. This lady I’ve never met asked for a memento so I gave her a rooster. She put it in her “Momorial” garden – the place she made to honor her mom and now mine. That blesses my heart immensely. Praise God.

Praise God for a buyer. Praise God I know she’s not hurting anymore. Praise God for giving me a mom who loved me so much. And that makes me cry.

©Belindabotzong2019

On The Market

Multiple Listing Service realtor agreement signed

Cleaning ladies did their best

Sisters worked like Hercules to clear the last of the “stuff” – remnants of a life

The listing posted and a bittersweet flood washed over me. As usual I have two roles in this whole business. On one hand I am called The Estate Manager- what used to be The Executor (feels like executioner) of The Estate. I have decisions to make. I have things to do. I have papers to sign and records to keep. I have rules to follow and jobs to finish. I am, as The Estate Manager, detached from my other role. The grieving daughter, the heir of the residue, the former caretaker/caregiver, of my first best friend.

There is no way to describe certain feeling and emotions except that it rolls like a tide- sometimes gently ebbing and flowing, a little misty maybe. Sometimes crashing like a tidal wave drowning my soul in tears.

This process is at times extremely frustrating. The waiting. The expectations. The bitterness. The disagreements. The pressure. The loss. The duties. The longing.

Yesterday was a day of frustration. I had to go to the bank for a couple things. There was the deposit from the estate sale. It wouldn’t go through without some glitch because it’s an estate account and it hadn’t been used yet. Then there was the mortgage payment. Fiasco. When I got frustrated and said “I just want to pay the damn mortgage”, the little fella told me not to use such language. Hahahahaha. Does he have any idea the language of this world? Not to excuse myself but in the past month I’ve had angry patients call me everything but a white woman (as my mother would say) as they, in their own distress, used profanity to cope with their own issues.

After much back and forth with the account I finally got the mortgage paid and left with a handshake with my new friend Ruan.

And then the realtor announced the listing on Redfin. And it washed over me. And I pray that a sweet family, a brilliant entrepreneur, or a group of people who just need a place to live, see that and decide it’s the perfect place for them. They can’t see the Chilean fire tree in bloom that will knock their socks off in spring. They don’t see the labor that went into the recent updates or the prior updates. They don’t see the pride she had at being a homeowner as a widow with five children. But I hope they see their future as being blessed by their own proud purchase and that they will fill it with their own collections and memories and tastes in decor.

I sent the Casa Brothers a message. They are the Realtor/Estate Sale team who have done such a great job through this ordeal. I have an idea for a new reality show with them as the stars — :

Hi guys

I just thought up a new reality show and you guys could be the stars— like property brothers except with the estate sale twist.. Casa Brothers – and the drama part would be the family melt downs and such that happens as people grieve and move thru the process of parents dying.

The vision is to my end — “save the adult children” from all the STUFF accumulated by the person who passed.

I think this is an idea that would resonate with this generation as all the baby boomers start passing and leaving the minimalist generation upcoming with all this stuff to dispose of.

I’m calling Hollywood .. get your makeup team together and get ready to be a star!!!!

Have a beautiful day

©Belindabotzong2018

Recovery

I’m in recovery mode.

Recovering from international travel. While I didn’t suffer from jet lag, there is a return to “normal life” transition that has to take place as the gears get switched. From traveling daily with a large group of people, eating on a different schedule with different ingredients, and long days on a bus, in the heat, and sleeping in hotels … back to work, my own smoothies, and my own pillow!! And now processing all we did and saw and experienced. It seems a bit unreal in light of normal life!

Recovery from the trauma of grief and loss.

This, of course, will be an ongoing process of months and years. At times surreal and other times raw and wretched. Today is my first day of unplanned time since my mom left us on October 16. I have a day to do nothing if I do choose. 90 percent of the Saturday’s for the past several years involved going to see her, running errands for her, going out to lunch with her, picking up groceries for her, going on scenics with her.

This past Thursday I had to go to Sedro-Woolley to sign a paper and get a massage. As I came down Cook Road the snow geese caught my eye and tears poured down. We loved seeing the snow geese in our scenics in the fall.

Normally I would have then gone to get her and do any of the above with her. Or might have taken a nap at her house. But her house is empty and she’s not there wondering what time I said I’d be there. She’s not confused about why someone would pay good money to get a Massage. She’s not anticipating my arrival. She wasn’t holding her hairbrush in her hand when I walked through the door, saying “check my bald spot”. There was no envelope laying on the coffee table with my name written in felt tip marker with a heart over the i, filled with her bills, newspaper clippings, obituaries or sales gimmicks.

There was just an echo as I said “mommy mommy mommy why”. And I turned and left with my shattered heart.

And today I will do the mundane things that need to be done when one is recovering from travel and death. I will read the letter from the lawyer and gather the proper documents. I will pay bills and sort through papers. I will go to Whole Foods and buy almond butter. I may walk with my son at the harbor. I will work on my art as I am the featured artist this week if all weeks. I will prepare my demonstration of Petals as Paints for next Saturday when I also have no date with my mom.

Recovering daughter.

©Belindabotzong2018

Day 10 -Israel 2018

Bittersweet freedom!

Today we woke up without a schedule for the first time since we left home. A much needed break from the routine of hurrying through breakfast to get on the bus. Bittersweet as we lose our daily dose of Yonatan’s teaching and the fellowship we’ve shared with the group.

At breakfast today we sat with Anna’s cousin Virginia- Anna was the lady who fell in Nazareth at the beginning of our journey. She told us how amazing America Israel Tours has been throughout this ordeal – sending an AIT representative to be with Anna at the hospital and how they have truly been there every step of the way. This is a huge thing to be grateful for and a good witness to the people who want to do a tour in the future. And a good reminder that buying trip insurance is an excellent investment!

So for our first day of freedom we decided to walk to the Mahane Yahuda Market. It was row after row of beautiful spices and fruits and candies and nuts and halva. Endless colors and textures and smells. We tried samples and ordered juice and walked and walked.

Then we decided to head over to Old Jerusalem. Along the way we got exasperated by our attempt to purchase a train ticket for our ride to the airport tomorrow. Multiple attempts to locate the holy grail of a Rav card left us a bit frustrated. We ended up talking to a guy who said the new fast train isn’t reliable enough yet and that we should ask our hotel to book us in a “special taxi” –a shuttle. We are planning to share a ride with our new friends Charlie and Madeline Burns. More about that later.

We entered the old city through the “New Gate” — we came upon a nice man who said he would like us to see his wife’s gallery. She is the only female shopkeeper. And he has a jewelry shop. Well you know we are a little leery of being hustled but sure enough he took us to meet his wife, a lovely British lady who sells art from local artists. She was so nice and she wanted to see my art which I have in the Art Market back home. She has a cat that hangs out at her shop and of course that got her and Savannah talking about feeding every stray cat in Israel that we encountered. The best part was that there was a watercolor print of that cat overlooking Jerusalem! Savannah is now the proud owner of her first piece of art!

As we left the gallery we forgot to turn left to go see her husband’s jewelry store but he caught us and turned us back toward his shop. He fuses ancient glass into beautiful jewelry and I bought a set for a Christmas gift. I am fairly sure it’s all authentic.

We had a good discussion with this couple about the concept of a “tourism mafia”. This is the thing where tour guides get a percentage of sales from prearranged visits by tour groups. This goes for restaurants and gift shops. There is a whole system designed to provide “discounts” to tourists. These coupons are tracked so the tour guides get a cut of the business it brings in. I think for restaurants this makes sense because of keeping to a fairly tight and rigorous schedule. The group sticks together and the food is done quickly. For shopping, though, it seems like a rigged system. Shop after shop sells the same exact items -/ very “cookie-cutter” souvenirs of low quality and lacking originality. Of course we bought some trinkets and gifts as any tourist does. It’s just a bit manipulated. And from what we heard it seems the little shop in Bethlehem is owned by some extravagantly wealthy families. I don’t know if it’s true but that’s what we were told.

Anyway, after shopping til we were ready to drop, time to eat. I have Schwarma and falafel coming out my pores so I really wanted something different. We sat down at one restaurant that’s upstairs over the market in the old city. We were not there but a few minutes when the guy told us if we weren’t part of a group we would need to move to another table. Grrr. So we left. We ended up going to a place Savannah ate at yesterday when she was rebelling against the tour system. They had shrimp and fries with a salad. Super expensive but again I could not think of eating schwarma or falafel.

We found our way to Jaffa gate and walked to “Cat Square” to sit and have tea and coffee. It was lovely. But then I realized I didn’t have enough shekels and they didn’t take dollars!! So I had to go find a change place and exchange a few dollars. Grrr.

Savannah fed multiple cats with the fish she took from the breakfast this morning. She has quite a routine of keeping scraps from our meals to feed the strays.

We made it back to the hotel and weary as we were thought it would be lovely to go to the pool and sauna to relax and revive. So we got our swim suits and robes and headed down to the pool. Closed. Ok let’s try the sauna. Can’t find it. No one is around in the spa area so we explored. We came out and a Ukrainian lady was at the front desk. She didn’t understand English. Sign language worked well enough and she took us to the sauna. A cold cold room with no controls and no steam. We went to find her and she was watching tv! So we just left and headed back to our room. Apparently Leonardo does not open the pool in the fall and apparently the spa is only an idea.

Another frustrating thing we encountered today was mentioned earlier — trying to get an affordable and reliable trip to the airport! Everyone we ask has a different idea. I had asked AIT what to do before we came on the tour and they said the hotel would get us taken care of. Well the hotel does not have a concierge and the guy Savannah talked to yesterday said it would be 350 Israeli Shekels for a taxi! That’s about a hundred bucks. Heck no. Yonatan said to ask for a special taxi (shuttle) and that it should be no more than 30 IS each. .. and so did the guys at the info place we talked to today. We really wanted to take that new fast train as it’s free but no one trusts the service time on that. So we went back to the hotel front desk and told the guy we need to arrange a shuttle for us and two others from our group. He says it’ll be 67 IS each! He tried calling to make the reservation but couldn’t get through. He said to check back in a couple hours and we were then told it’s confirmed! Goodness. Makes me wish we had just gone home when everyone else did tonight and it would have been all taken care of!

So here we are. Our last night in Jerusalem is underway! We have met so many lovely people. We have been blessed with such great care. Having Yonatan as our guide was such a blessing-/ we always felt safe and cared for. We never had to worry about anything because he knew exactly what to do in each situation. It’s bittersweet for sure. So thankful that we had this opportunity and I will always pray for the peace of Jerusalem and blessings on the Christians who are bound to live separated from the rest of the world in Palestine.

Day 8 – Israel 2018

O Little Town if Bethlehem

How still we see thee lie..

Today was very interesting, humbling, educational and enlightening.

Our world view is so easily shaped by the news, politicians, the internet, and prejudice.

Today at least we can say that 35 Americans along with their brilliant and fearless Jewish guide were able to have our world views impacted by a beautiful, precious, and amazing Palestinian Christian named Barbara. I can almost promise that when you hear the word Palestinian most Americans do not envision such a lovely thing as meeting one who is Christian.

And I’ll go as far as to say that most of us have no clue that Bethlehem is in what is now Palestinian territory. And I know for certain most have no idea that there even are Christian Palestinians.

We took the bus into this territory so that we could visit the birthplace of Jesus. It was miraculous that we did not have to wait long as it is usually very crowded.

First stop was at a beautiful gift shop operated by a Christian artist cooperative, Handmade items carved from olive tree wood —nativities so elaborate and ornaments, jewelry, trinkets, and so many beautiful things.

We were a bit taken aback by the people selling on the streets — very aggressively — and its hard not to hand all your money to a little boy holding onto his sheep as you enter the town. Adorable little gig he had going there. Poverty is obvious and a bit overwhelming.

Barbara was delightful and answered all our curiosities graciously. She cannot travel freely. She cannot come to Jerusalem. She has lived in Bethlehem all her life and says there is little to do — no entertainment. Basically except for her tour guide position she dabbles in learning to paint and hangs out with her friends. She lives with her entire extended family – parents, married brothers and their children. She has been to America once to visit a relative in Sacramento. To fly anywhere they must travel to Amman Jordan.

When we arrived at the church where the manger is, Barbara navigated us all through a crowded scene. We had to go down into the area under the church and there is a 14point Star where it is believed Jesus was born and an area where the manger would have been. This church is separated into sections based on three sects that have claim on it. Orthodox Greek and Russian if I remember right and one other. It is very ornate and unusual. It was too hot and crowded for me to fully experience what I was seeing. But I’m glad we got to go.

Next stop was Shepard’s Field — the area where flocks would have been kept and where the angels would have appeared to announce “Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men”.

After this we walked to a restaurant. A lady named Ruth, another Palestinian Christian, owns this place and did a lovely job of feeding our massive group– schwarma and falafel, as usual. We bid Barbara a fond farewell and gave her a freewill offering into Yonatan’s hat.

This was all so valuable in helping us grasp even a tiny bit of reality.

We then headed to Mt. Zion and went to the place where Peter denied Jesus. A beautiful church. Then to the place where Jesus was held for trial. And to King David’s tomb, and to one place where Mary may have been buried.

We had to rush through as Shabbat was about to begin but there was so much beauty in the mosaics and paintings I’m glad we got to see it even briefly.

We have been blessed to get to know some of the people in our group, to know Barbara, Jonatan, and most of all to learn more about the roots of our faith!

And then what happened?

Normal returns

A solid week of grieving

Clinging to ideal memories

Visualizing complete and perfect healing

Sharing words of comfort, wisdom, hopes, and fears

Laughing and crying til there are no more tears

A shiny pink casket

A brilliant sunny day highlighted in gold, red, and orange Autumn leaves

A song, a speech, a memory poured out between sobs. Exhortation to believe in Jesus and heaven and forgiveness.

Staring then cleaning. Phone calls and emails. Conversations filled with her voice as we reminisce and remember

Together and apart so much to do

Then Monday comes. The house is empty. The trash cans full to overflowing. The shredding and burning complete. The photos sorted and memories shared. The echoes of a life hard fought.

And our “new normal” begins with an empty spot where there are no more phone calls missed. No more voice mails that start out “Hey…”. No more doctors appointments, lunches, scenics.

She’s on her final journey to somewhere even more beautiful than her beloved Sedro-Woolley where she was born, where she raised five children, and where she died in what she thought was heaven on earth.

Now she sees clearly His face, their faces, and she sees the spectacular home He and they have prepared for her. A mansion. No tears. No pain. Just love and joy and peace. Pure love and pure joy and pure peace.

Off to work we go. Loving you and others. The Lord. My mom.