Dirt Roads & Cheesecake

Dirt Roads & Cheesecake

Jerry Woodbridge

 

     After presenting at a conference at an Indiana University, visiting friends and family, and

celebrating a milestone for Alyssa’s graduation from nursing school. I was returning to

Colorado. Driving a 2-day road trip through Indiana cornfields, Missouri’s tree-lined hills,

Kansas’ windy prairies, and finally up the Ute Pass to Woodland Park, Colorado. I had just

returned in time to celebrate Mother’s Day with my Mom, a rare event due to living many miles

apart for so many years. With its 8600 plus elevation, feeling winded and beyond weary, I stiffly

exited the confines of the red velvet jeep. Home at last from a wonderful vacation with my son,

daughter-in-love, my best friend Billie, and ballroom dance tribe. The unloading would have to

wait for some renewal of energy, beyond the vibrations of the road I could still feel within my

body.

     Mom was sitting in her recliner, while three other family members of the canine

variety, Sadie, Bella, and Mow rushed to the door to greet me with kisses and demanding puppy

tummy rub downs. We began sharing a variety of stories to catch up on family and the

antics of Bella, the 78-pound St. Bernard- German shepherd mixed 8-month puppy. Next on the

agenda. included touring the house for all of the changes and intensive reorganization

precipitated from a pod rental from California. Mom’s Alaskan artwork was up on the walls and

the furniture had been arranged to meet the spatial needs of two seniors and pets.

     Next, the problems with the local deer and our dogs came up. The ranch style chicken wire

fencing needed additional supports, as Bella would place her paws on the wire and stand full

height and with a low, bellowing bark echoing across the valley, alerting the deer and the

surrounding neighbors. However, two female does, did not appreciate the incessant barking and

walked right up to the opposite side of the fence, almost nose to nose with Bella.  Both animals

stood their ground and stared at each other. The tension was thick and we had heard stories of

rogue deer attacking a puppy in the neighborhood, almost breaking the canine’s back.

     Sadie, my stocky lab and german shepherd mix surprisingly, jumped over the fence to chase

the fleeing deer. My Mom, dog lover and advocate, was beside herself in worry for Sadie, as her

mobility and balance is limited due to M.S. Fortunately, a good-hearted neighbor found her in

the middle of the dirt road in our neighborhood and brought Sadie home. When I returned, I

observed Sadie finding a weakness in the fencing and tried to crawl under the fence corner to get

to the deer. Needless to say, finding a way to keep the dogs within the backyard fence without

inviting more deer aggression was a major problem and source of stress.

     The day before Mother’s Day, Mom and I set out towards Florissant to try out a new

restaurant called The Iron Tree. It was receiving rave reviews on the local FB page and we are

always looking for variety in our limited mountain dining establishments. Entering the small

restaurant, tucked away in a corner off the main intersection, we longingly gazed through the

clear storage case and found some amazing looking desserts, teasing us to try them out.

     The menu surprised us. After sampling an appetizer of gourmet roasted brussels with bacon

bits and blue cheese, we determined it to be well worth the 25-minute journey up the winding

mountain road. Mom enjoyed her beer-battered fried fish and I devoured a unique flavor in my

brisket sandwich, topped with coleslaw. With full tummies,,. we left Iron Tree with a mental

promise to return to the restaurant to try out their desserts.

     Our next destination was Eleven Mile Canyon. Observing an Eleven Mile sign posted next to

the convenience store, I was directed to turn left on a paved road tightly built between two Lake

George businesses. The paved road quickly became a grated, Colorado red, dirt road that made

the jeep jump and vibrate like chattering teeth. Our path wound upwards and then downhill as

most mountain roads do. I surmised this road would surely test the new Grand Cherokee jeep and

its driver.

     After a few dusty miles, Mom thought we should probably turn back as this road did not seem

familiar. But by now, I was enjoying the adventure of not knowing where I was going, and ready

to explore the unknown scenery, like my Mom, the road warrior. When in new places, getting

lost is often the best way to learn the lay-out of a new area. So we continued and turned right at

several forks in the road, as signs indicated we were heading towards Eleven Mile State Park and

Reservoir. Known as a water girl, I was excited to find a potential waterway to bring

a kayak.

     Eventually, a sign confirmed we had arrived at Eleven Mile State Park and there was the

reservoir to prove it. Observing a few fishermen and campers parked by the water, we drove the

rocky path to see if there was a safe place to launch a kayak. Back on the main reservoir road, we

felt the vibrating whoosh of other dusty automobiles passing us by. So, Mom was right, we had

taken the wrong road, but by that point we were committed to continue our road of discovery of

grazing wild donkeys, antelopes, and buffaloes.

                                     

    After basking in our new discoveries and snapping pictures with my cellphone we could prove

we had been there. Suddenly and surprisingly. I began to get a little nervous, not knowing

where we were exactly. There was no expected welcome station or public restrooms in our road

adventure. Therefore, turning on the navigation, I hit the button for Home. I was relieved that

“Gertrude”, what my Mom calls all GPS’s, was giving us directions to turn left at the next

intersection and then 2 rights to get back to the main road. Somehow our dirt road travels had

taken us a few miles west and downhill of a familiar landmark, Wilkerson Pass, a scenic and

overlook that marked the end of the Front Range mountains with a panoramic view of the valley

with Western Range Mountains, with snowcapped peaks, in the background. We began the steep

ascent and soon passed the closed rest area, with the amazing view, and continued heading home.

“Gertrude” indicated home was 35 miles away.

     We knowingly confirmed aloud our next destination, “Since we were going to be passing

through Florissant again, we would stop back at “The Iron Tree” to sample their desserts to

celebrate Mother’s Day. The now familiar restaurant’s glass storage case taunted us once again

with homemade treats, such, as, caramel drizzled bread pudding, strawberry cake with cream

cheese icing, fresh from the oven brownies and scones, and 2 large slices of fluffy lemon

strawberry cheesecake. Mom and I ordered cheesecake. The smooth textured cheesecakes melted

in our mouths, but the large slices proved “our eyes were definitely bigger than our

stomachs.”  Half of the desserts went home with us to enjoy later.

     While we never made it to Eleven Mile Canyon, we agreed it would be a trip for another day.

I really enjoyed the day of dirt roads and cheesecake, because I got to spend time with my Mom

away from the house and work responsibilities. The unexpected discoveries made the road less

traveled worth it. Who would have thought, we would come across wild donkeys? Mom

enjoyed our time together, since I had been a way on a trip to Indiana for several weeks.  Dirt

roads and cheesecake was our way of reconnecting and getting back in sync with each other.

Mother’s Day, May 13th, 2018,

Redemption

Redemption

I love how our Father uses our own life experiences to bless and redeem others. It is

human to ask the "why me?" question when we endure trials and tribulations. The better

questions may be "why not me?" and "how can I help others through similar situations?".

            When I became a widow at the age of 42 with 2 children at home to raise, I saw how the

Lord worked things out for the good, even in a difficult situation. I began to dig into His Word to

address my "why me?" questions and he began to show how I could be used to encourage other

widows, widowers, and single parents.

 In the classroom, the Lord placed me in classrooms where I could support and encourage

children who had lost a parent. The Lord will redeem each of us and our life experiences when

we offer them to Him to use in His service.

Ephesians 1:7 In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in

accordance with the riches of God’s grace. 

Dogs make great shrinks

“Dogs make great shrinks. No Judgment. No Co-Payment.” Andy Brown, Author

Sadie is my shrink.  Actually, she is my 4-year-old, golden lab-german shepherd mix with a checkered past. Her backstory: Sadie was adopted from a Humane Society in Las Vegas and then left abandoned in the backyard when her previous owners moved on. Neighbors took her in, but they also needed to rehome her when they moved to Colorado Springs. Mom found Sadie listed on Facebook and we arranged to meet the young couple who was involved in the rehoming process. She was larger than we thought and definitely a shedder. Mom was ready to say “No”, but something about her bright eyes and gentle spirit as I walked her around the park, encouraged me to reply enthusiastically, yes, we will take her. 

After a tumultuous second marriage, recent divorce, and a cross-country move, I needed a dog to

dote on and she needed someone who would pet and sing to her and give her a home. Sadie is my girl. As a matter of fact, I sing “My Girl” to her all the time and she knows it is her special song. She responds favorably with puppy massages and brushing. She is a happy, tail wagging dog, even though she has known sorrow and abandonment. I want her to know, she is mine and I am hers in this forever home.

How much more does our loving Savior desire for us? 

Going Solo?

Going Solo?

After my husband Dave died, I struggled with the idea of going alone in any area of my life. When I was in my forties, I was a lot more fearful of trying new things. I dragged my daughter to my first ballroom dance lesson and kayaking event.  I discovered I loved both ballroom dancing and kayaking. So did my daughter.  Trying new things moved me out of my comfort zone and I am seldom disappointed in the adventure.  

I am looking forward to the delivery of my first kayak this week. In my research, I found that the roof top, J hook kayak carrier and the downloader, I need to place on the top of my jeep will cost more than the kayak, paddle, life vest, and 2 dry bags altogether. Yet, I rationalize this is an investment in self-care. I love my mountain and forest views, but I am a water girl! I love the floating in the “middle of the Lake” perspective and view of the surrounding shorelines that only fish and birds get to see. I relish the profound sense of joy and peace I experience when floating in the middle of a lake in a kayak.

In order to experience the joy of floating, I will have to learn the new skills of loading and unloading my kayak into a nearby waterway. I am also sure my muscles will be taxed, but I have been warned that Colorado summers in the mountains go by quickly, so the kayak delivery is timely.

Why go solo? Having rented a two-seater kayak, I discovered that two people paddling can be challenging, when strengths and personalities are not in sync. It is easy to overpower one of the paddlers, and thus, end up zigzagging or rotating in circles away from the selected waterway. These events cause conflict, which is not what I seek when I go kayaking. I prefer the solo kayaking so I can select my destination, speed of paddling, and stopping when I just want to enjoy the view. I am not a loner, I do enjoy going kayaking with others, just as long as we each have our own kayak.

One of my Mom’s favorite quotes comes from J.R. Tolkien, “Not all who wander are lost.” There is a purpose to trying new things and destinations to be explored. There are new lifelong friends to be made. I am learning to embrace the freedom and privilege of going solo in this life.

A Widow's Heart Renewed

Early in 2009, I had started a Widow's Heart blog to record my questions, thoughts, and insight into scriptures regarding widows and how I could move forward.  I thought surely a second marriage was in store for me and why not? I had a good first marriage with Dave that ended in 2004 due to undiagnosed colon cancer. I had read about Ruth and desired to meet my Boaz, my second chance at love and marriage. 

 I was convinced in 2013, I had met him and we made wedding plans. I ignored the family and friendly advice about waiting to get to know him, because waiting 9 years since Dave's death seemed like plenty of time. There were early signs of emotional abuse and control, but I rationalized that it was because we were so in love, that spending all of our time together and in constant communication was somehow normal. I did not realize that my once socially active life would be traded in for isolation from those I loved and who cared for me.

I had vowed as a child I would not get divorced, because I had experienced the fallout from my parents' divorces. Now after 3 years of misery and fear, I was ready to leave my second husband. I felt like I had been living with a rattlesnake; never knowing when I would get bit. I finally told him I wanted a divorce after he verbally threatened to throw me through a sliding glass door. Triggers had been pulled. I packed up my car with clothes and computer and left the condo to drive back to Indiana where I still owned a home that I was trying to sell.

While we stayed married that year, the new year continued to bring our problems to a head. I moved out in January where I lived the next 5 months in a bedroom, a  teacher friend rented out to me. I hired the lawyer to file the papers for divorce. He refused to hire a lawyer, but we finally had a written financial agreement and the courts finalized the divorce.  I knew the negative drama would continue if I remained in Florida, well after the divorce, so I made plans to move to Colorado to become my Mom's caregiver. 

My Mom gave me some good advice and a year to explore and figure out what jobs I wanted to do. This year would give me time to heal emotionally, physically, and spiritually. My calling to work with other teachers is confirmed, but writing and speaking opportunities are also in my future. I am resigned to live a life a single woman with a widow's heart for others, who lost loves prematurely, and for children who may be grieving the loss of a parent or parents. This widow depends on her Lord to provide and protect her. This is why I have renamed my blog post as A Widow's Heart Renewed.

Ever Feel Stuck? Dancing Through Grief (Hopefully, a future TEDX speech)

The title of my speech is “Dancing Through Grief” and I have 2 core goals to support this message: 1) to bring others back to ballroom dancing to reconnect human to human and 2) Dance is an antidote for the disconnected society.

I became a widow at the age of 41. I did not have the luxury to just grieve. I had 2 teenagers to raise and therefore had to find a way to deal with the stress of grief, support my children, and rediscover my own identity. Suddenly, I did not fit in with the married couple friends and family. My couples friend support system was gone. As a teacher, I began to question why? All I knew is I felt stuck in my misery and falling deeper into a grief invoked depression. So one day I decided to walk into the dance studio with my teenage daughter to inquire about dance lessons and my life began to change. I could move through my grief and made new social connections on the dancefloor. With a lot of work and practice, I became a dancer because I had found joy while working through the grief.

According the U.S. Census, did you know that the death of a spouse is ranked as the number one stressor? Did you know that 800,000 people are widowed every year? Out of those 800,000,

700,000 widowed are women? On average, 75% of the survivor’s support base is lost leading to isolation in grief, which includes couple friends and family. I became one of those statistics in 2004, when my husband, Dave, at the age of 45, passed away from colon cancer.

How can ballroom dance help those in widowhood stop feeling “stuck” and reconnect to other?

Erin van Vuren, a renown poet, said, “There are four things in this life that can change you. Love, music, art, and loss. The first three will keep you wild and full of passion. May you allow the last to make you brave.”

Foxtrot, east coast swing, and cha cha… I love them all. I did not grow up as a dancer. I became involved in ballroom dancing at the age of 42, a 6-month widow looking for release from grief. Dave’s untimely death reminded me, there were things I still wanted to do. After casually driving by the Arthur Murray dance studio for years, I coaxed up enough courage with my teen-age daughter, Julie, for moral support, to go inside and inquire about dance lessons. I met the exuberant Ahmed Hussein, the owner of the dance studio. He offered me a free lesson and I self-consciously booked it. My daughter also enthusiastically booked a dance lesson.

From a widow’s perspective, the question I asked myself was whether I would ever enjoy life again without my soulmate? Without Dave, our usual social connections were not the same. They were constant reminders of the life we had to live without him. Julie and I needed a place where we could just be known for ourselves. We had found ourselves, stuck in the life following the funeral, and needed to embrace the lives we were meant to live

What we found at the dance studio, surprised us both. We found a studio like “Cheers”, where all the instructors, welcomed us by name and we received hugs for our efforts. Ahmed trained all of us to welcome new dancers to our studio and encouraged us to seek out the widow, widower, and those alone and ask them to dance. Right away, dance taught me how to respect my partner and welcome others to the love of dance.  Grief had caused a disconnection and now through dance, we could begin to connect with others. S. Kelley Harrell wrote in The Gift of the Dreamtime, “We don't heal in isolation, but in community…” Our healing had begun in the dance community.

Dance helps you process your inner feelings. While I was dancing, the hidden grief relaxed for a moment, and I could feel the promise of joy. For the first time in 6 months, I felt I could survive this incredible loss and reclaim joy again.  As anyone who has lost a loved one, grief is processed differently by every individual. For me, the ballroom dances provided safety in its patterns and weight changes. Peter Townsend explained, “Dance enables you to find yourself and lose yourself at the same time.”

During one dance lesson, grief reared its ugly head along with my frustration at not being able to complete a particular pattern, but the unsuspecting instructor was compassionate and allowed time to process what I was feeling and dry my tears. On the dancefloor, I learned how to harness those silent emotions of despair and put them to work. Dance gives you confidence through movement and releases stress.  Thanks to the endorphins and uplifting music!

Martha Graham (1985) explained “Dance is the hidden language of the soul, of the body.”

A month prior to Dave’s first death anniversary, I dedicated a dance to my late husband, Dave. It was a foxtrot and bolero dance with Ahmed.  Celine Deion’s “Because You Loved Me” played in the background. “You gave me faith ‘cause you believed, I’m everything I am because you loved me.”  This song captured the essence of my husband’s support for my family and dreams. He supported me through graduate school and this eventually led to a doctorate degree. After teaching all day, I would go to school in the evening. He would feed the children and help them with their homework. There was not a dry eye in the crowd. The cathartic and healing dance allowed me to thank Dave for our lives together and release him.

Dance lead to adventures. Within 5 months of dance instruction, Juliana and I competed in an international ballroom dance competition in Verona, Italy. There, I discovered that I was truly a social dancer, while my daughter enjoyed the competition. Julie enjoyed the creativity through choreography, competition, and performance. She liked working as a team with her partner. Dance moves beyond barriers (language, age, socio-economics, etc…) as we discovered in Verona’s dance competition.

Dance made us feel alive again. Dance even helped me to become a friend to my 16 year-old daughter. In the midst of our common grief, we found the dance connection in common. Dancing improved our communication. Dance also offered my daughter a career.

Jessica Sittig (2005) in her blog article, “Moving Grief” announced “Coping with grief and loss through movement is as old as humankind” (para.1). She added Psalm 30:11, “Thou hast turned my mourning into dancing.” Two extreme emotions would seem to war with each other. How can you possibly reclaim joy through dancing?

Julie Bergers wrote an article for Salsa in the Suburbs website, “Dance Your Grief Away: How Dance Can Help with Loss”. Music, movement, and connections are often found deficient in those who grieve. Bergers wrote about a widow named Denise, who had begun latin dancing. Denise stated, “While life will never be the same because losing a loved one is traumatic, our loved ones would not ever want us to give up and live lives of sadness, but would much rather see us dance” (para.10). Denise had stated eloquently what many of us felt through loss: disconnected and offered hope of connecting with others and joy.

There were healthy social outcomes gained from a ballroom community of friends. Even after a move from northern Florida to central Indiana, I found a dance community. I found others with a common dance connection and formed extraordinary adult friendships in the midst of a disconnected society. I am going to introduce to 4 of these extraordinary dance friends.

Billie, was our dance instructor extraordinaire. She could go anywhere to dance and have people drawn to approach her with their own personal desire to dance. She was a true dance ambassador because she would “right on the spot” teach a basic dance lesson on the mall sidewalk, at a local dance, or in a studio. Dancing was like walking where there were left and right steps and changes in weight balance. Her dance instructor advice was to keep it simple and fun! She explained there were basically 3 basic patterns to ballroom: 1) walking forward and backward, 2) walking side to side, and 3) rock step. Every dance comes from these basic patterns. She told me of a couple who came to her dance lesson and the husband had great expectations and concern. When she demonstrated these 3 simple steps and the husband was able to lead his wife in a closed position walking front and backward, he smiled. He felt successful and then relaxed for the next instruction. My bond with Billie grew strong because we were both lovers of dance, teachers, and later, widows together.

Dave, a widower, and always the elegant partner in dance explained, “You learn a skill that is a lot of fun and at the same time you get to meet a lot of new people that you would never meet if you did not take a dance lesson.” Dave would always introduce me to other widows and I would share my story with them to encourage that they too could have a joyful life after the loss of a loved one.

Kathy, is our dancing diva. She always strived to learn more and apply these silver and gold level skills on the dancefloor. She competed and performed well. Kathy is a beautiful and graceful dancer with an incredible and open heart. She is a champion of life and forever my dance sister.

Then there was Russ, a true friend in life and gentleman on the dancefloor.  He loved to dance and socialize. He loved his Lord, his family, and his friends. I count myself lucky to be one of Russ’ friends. While dancing the polka, he had a heart attack, He died shortly after. His funeral was well-attended by several dance studios of dancers, but we took comfort in that he was doing what he loved, dancing, when he left this world. I can only imagine he is still dancing in heaven.

I conducted an informal survey of some facebook dance friends:  Why did you start dancing?

Several friends commented it was a fun social activity. Others had learned how to dance young, while others learned as adults. One couple wrote dance was something they had in common when they dated, so they wanted to continue dancing in their marriage, like dating forever. I love the answer about dancing is like dating forever; it improves communication and intimacy in marriage, and it is a fun, social activity to meet others. Each of these is forever friends, first connected through dance, and then our shared lives. “I think the reason dance has held such an ageless magic for the world is that it has been the symbol of the performance of living” Martha Graham. Dance is harmony and rhythm swirled together in movement.

Years later, I dedicated a testimonial nightclub two-step dance to my daughter to the tune of Jamie O’ Neal’s “Brave”. Julie helped choreograph the dance and was the leader and I followed her lead.

I’ve been down just as low as anyone can get, the whole world was closing in and I couldn’t find a friend. No one else could help me, I had to walk through the fire alone … life has brought me to my knees, faith has lead me home.

Let the storm rage around me, I will stand and I will fight! And when the darkness surrounds me I will make my own light! I may not win every battle, but I will get stronger with every fear I face… and I’ll be brave!

Words do not have to be said, as there is self-expression through the dancing. Self-expression combined with meaningful lyrics and personal history encourages us … we will be ok no matter what happens in life. Julie and I had learned to be brave through our loss and found joy in the process. Each of our dance friends, my daughter Julie, and I had found a way to connect through dance in a disconnected society. The dance was our antidote to grief.

As H. Jackson Brown Jr would say, “Opportunity dances with those already on the dancefloor!”   Be brave! I hope to see you on the dancefloor!

References

"Martha Graham Reflects on Her Art and a Life in Dance" (31 March 1985); republished in The New York Times Guide to the Arts of the 20th Century (2002), p. 2734.

Woodbridge, Jerry. (2010). Trading My Sorrows for the Joy of the Lord. Bloomington: iUniverse Publishing.

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How it all began...

                                 

                                                         How it All Began... 

As Assistant Director of the Master in Education program at Indiana Wesleyan University, I managed the online faculty, curriculum, and resources for over 600 graduate students. I had moved my family to Marion, Indiana from Jacksonville, Florida, so I was gradually getting to know other staff and faculty through meetings. I was pleased to receive an email from Vicki Rudicel to meet for lunch with a small group of widows. 

During these lunches, we got to know each other through shared stories about our marriage and family before and after our husbands had passed away. We encouraged each other as we dealt with our lives and obstacles post-funeral Sometimes, we simply acknowledged the anniversaries, birthdays, or annual death dates of our loved ones. Later, I  found out the group was called the Young Widows Fellowship and through sharing our stories of loss, inspired Vicki and  I to write grief devotionals for other widows and widowers: Trading My Sorrows for the Joy of the Lord. 

This grief devotional for widows addressed questions, we have faced on our faith journey through the valley of the shadow of death, embracing sorrow and suffering to glorify our Savior.