On this chilly evening, I am reminded of a roaring fire in the fireplace or in a makeshift pit while camping. I conjure mental images of the crackling, hissing and popping tree sap and I can almost feel the warmth enveloping my feet and legs. The closer I leaned into the firelight, the more I felt a near-searing of my face.

In the open night air, I can almost smell the pine of the trees and the dank earth that nourishes the pine, ponderosa and pinon.

Mixed into nature's aromas is the sweet smell of marshmallows roasting on sticks that my boys had whittled earlier under a lazy afternoon sun. And, of course, there is the unique bubbling sound and indescribable "perfume" of percolating coffee on an open flame!

I recall watching the "night rise" as the "black" rose from the ground, crept up the trunks of the trees and soon enveloped all of the earth. Valleys, mountains, hills, rivers, arroyos and sandstone canyons soon disappeared, along with the horned toads, lizards, rattlers, armadillos and field mice. My childish fears of these small creatures faded into obscurity as well and my reward was a star-filled sky that sang a twinkling song.

The marshmallow-stained faces of my sleeping boys will forever be imprinted upon my memory banks. They were "my cherubs" all curled up in bed or sleeping bags.

It was only natural for me to finally stretch out upon Mother Earth amidst pine needles and sagebrush where I stared into the abyss of galactic twinkling orbs. I oftentimes contemplated the mere existence of me, my sons, my family, the human race.

It was a good time to be alive in a world that held hope and promise.

Tonight, I wrap myself in the smoke of days gone by......... I burn sage in thanksgiving for my blessings and I burn sweetgrass in HOPE for mankind................................

1:00 a.m. on the 10th of July 2017, and not sure why my pillow is not calling to me. It’s been another hot day (desert living) and staying indoors is the only way to survive. Of course, being trapped within the walls of the house, one becomes trapped in the walls of the mind.

I so miss my son Stafford in so many many ways…. I miss his voice, his greeting of “Hi Mom, it’s Stafford” … I miss his laughter, our many conversations, his enthusiasm for everything he did, be it grocery shopping, the crossword, a performance or going to an outdoor concert. He had such a zest for living and for life! He shared so much of his daily life with me and made me a part of his life. His absence has removed the sun from my days…. I have lost my right arm and have not learned to write with my left!!

I go through each day trying different hobbies or surfing the tv channels for God knows what. My enthusiasm is waning and I struggle to find a task or an errand to distract me from my thoughts.

Losing my son was evidently not enough.  For two years now, my oldest has removed himself and his boys from my life with untold anger and vitriol. He has chosen to be judge, jury and executioner and I have yet to know the charge. All I can do is love them from afar. He has left me reeling and wounded beyond explanation. I am left with a huge question mark over my head wondering “Why?” I pray that he is content.

Stuart has been my anchor these past two years and I am beyond thankful that he has allowed me to be a part of his life while helping him with his precious twins. He has a very full life and his days are filled with incredible responsibilities but he takes the time to call frequently. He and the twins are my heartbeat.

After all these years, I find myself wondering how I got to where I am today. It certainly isn’t where I thought I would be but then, how does anyone plan a life with all of the unknowns and unforeseen twists in the roadways. Yes, it could be worse! And yes, it could be better as well…. if just half of the heartache would disappear.

Life, with all of its ups and downs, has moved on according to plan!  Three months ago, on the anniversary of Stafford's passing, that sharp stab of loss was felt again! Once more I looked into the sky and tried to find the sunlight that filled my every day! It has been dimmed considerably but, knowing I shall see my son again, I sense clouds drifiting away!

Loss is part of living ... as is birth and death ... and as the years go by, I become more accepting of the inevitable.  I must admit that the peace, tranquility and the ultimate escape from the malcontent of this earthly world alleviates any fear of the unknown. For many of my loved ones who have already escaped this existence, I find myself thinking that I am happy they are finally surrounded by peace, eternal light and love.  I understand the living are left to suffer the pain of loss but, because I have grown to accept the inevitable, I realize everything in life -- including life -- is temporary. The only permanency we mere humans have is eternal love and light.

Thus, I shall continue to love my sons, my precious grandchildren, my family, and friends with all my human might so as to leave a footprint of some sort behind.

Stafford Alan Clark-Price, my "Electric Kid"...... 5 years ago today, he traveled beyond this world into eternal light and love! The world was such a beneficiary of his love and generosity! He adored being a "Storyteller" on stage and now, his legacy remains as a magnificent example of the human spirit. My heart grows larger each day with increasing love, pride and honor to have been chosen to be his Mother. His indelible mark on my life carries me through each day with the knowledge that I will see him again! He merely awaits elsewhere for my arrival, meanwhile sharing his stories with others. Love is ETERNAL........

I have been a hermit for the past 4 years since losing my son to cancer! Those devastating images of his suffering haunt me every day! I too, have seen my anger rise within me, my total disgust with the times and lack of morals, integrity and compassion. I am still not ready to enter the "masses" where the majority of people are only interested in "What can you do for me." I have stopped giving and am close to not caring any longer! I can only think of joining my son who was truly a compassionate and giving human being! I know he is frowning down at me, and I beg him every day to help me become like him and carry on for him. Too many deaths....too many hurdles....too few "real people" and way too few family members who give a second thought! I'm expected to "get over it!" That is salt in the wound that prevents any kind of adjustment to such an enormous loss!

"Mom...I just want to see forty!" Today is Stafford's fortieth day of birth and he left us 40 months ago!!

All the poems, beautiful tributes, loving passages, empathetic gestures and kind words are a part of the glue that holds the shards of my broken heart together! Every day I test the glue ..... but it has not yet dried! ......

I was Stafford's Mom, and yes, today and for many tomorrows, I will be selfish in my grief. I will cry, I will wander aimlessly, I will want to scream out, I will stare at his photographs covering the years of his electric life! I will look in my memory bank and recall the joys, the heartaches, the excitement and the loving moments I had with him.

I will close my eyes and remember him saying, "Okay Mom, you can have a hug now!" (Toward the end, after arriving in NY on an airplane, I had to shower to wash away the germs....he was very susceptible to infection.)

That hug has burned an indelible mark on my heart and soul!

I am now "all knowing" on a subject of which I knew nothing! I "knew" I would not comprehend this inexplicable pain because "parents" go first! Even that pain is no stranger to me.....I have lost many and have grieved from the depths of my soul, but I didn't loose my purpose or identity as I fear I may have this time!

I can only tell you this: Do not hold back your love out of anger, resentment or false pride! Do not allow self-consciousness to make you swallow your words/emotions! The pain of loss is beyond devastating but, it is crushingly more difficult to carry forward with the guilt of silence when faced with a love that has been eternally extinguished by death!

Take life by the horns and express your love and caring every day! Tomorrow may not allow you another breath.

So thrilled to have "found" Clara and her two children, Sandra and Andy Tejeda. Clara and I go back to "Los Angeles years" when Stuart was born. Her wonderful husband, Mario, left us just before Stafford's passing . Neither of us knew of our losses until about a year or so ago! Since then, we have stayed in touch.

Her son Andy, was going through some of Mario's "things" and found this photo! He put it up the other day on FB and when I saw it, I couldn't help but feel melancholy and happy - all at the same time!

Oh what fabulous "little guys" my three sons were! Where did they go?? Someone took them and replaced them with full grown men!!! I love the men they became, but I so wish I could have the little ones back --- even for just a short time!

I miss their inquisitive and adventuresome spirits - their insatiable curiosity - their little arms that would wrap about my neck - Stuart's incredibly beguiling eyes and inquisitive bend about nature - Steven's drive to "know things" and his handsome boyish stature - Stafford's curly hair, his entreprenurial spirit and unending creativity! I miss the laughing eyes and giant smiles on their faces! ........ My 3 sons and my grandchildren definitely "own my heart!"

I firmly believe that my beautiful son, Stafford, is with me 24/7 and because of that, I do my best to honor his electric spirit by involving myself in every day activities. The most difficult thing to deal with is having no one with whom to share the wonderful memories of him. I do a lot of "living" in my head! What keeps me moving forward is my son's smile and the unselfish nature he possessed! He touched many lives....including a phenomenal impact on me! In his honor, I try daily to have an impact on others until I see him again! 

Three years ago on Dec. 8th, a fantastic human traveled beyond our feeble limits and, in my heart, I know his lifeways and contributions left many far better had he not been here for the short time that he was. He was not mine....... he was on loan and I am blessed to have been able to call him my son! What an immeasurable heart love he continues to be!

     For so many beautiful years, my silly wardrobe did not contain a shawl! I always thought that was an item of dress for an old lady, a matronly grandma, a widow or part of a dancing costume at a Pow Wow!

     Normally I would put together matching outfits whether they started with cowboy boots, moccasins, tennis shoes, stilettos, or flip flops! The sillier the better but, they were all coordinated! The outfits were a description of my frame of mind and, sometimes, if I felt a little down, sad, confused, insecure or somewhat depressed, I would put together a "top drawer" outfit and voilà .... my frame of mind was improved almost immediately! I could go anywhere with a smile on my face and feel positive toward the world!

     My attire has been, for the most part, fun, flamboyant at times, silly, mature, child-like and certainly unconventional!

     And now I realize that over the years, many green leaves have turned brilliant orange and crimson red, and my wardrobe has done likewise. Each season throughout my life has also brought about a desire for a change of pace and color.

     The wardrobe of my youth has been altered now and is a bit more staid and conservative. That's what "growing up" has brought to my table and it's okay!

     What I did not expect, however, was the addition of a shawl..... one I did not purchase or even desire! My psyche screamed out.... "No! I do not want you.... I do not want to wear you! Furthermore, you are definitely not coordinated with anything in my wardrobe!"

     Now I am finding that the shawl has become a compulsory shroud that covers the funny and carefree wardrobe I had become accustomed to. I have no vote! My wardrobe has been altered permanently and I am learning to adjust to the change! The shawl will never be an article of clothing that I put on willingly! It is always there waiting to cover me and there are days that the weight is almost unbearable! It will never be beautiful, light or unnoticed by me.... It will "just always be there!"

     No matter what colors I choose, no matter my attempts at coordination of my attire, none of it will matter from now on because the shawl will cover everything....and believe me, it is not a complimentary or matching color!!

     However, I will wear the shawl with a sense of reverence because Life placed it around my shoulders the moment Stafford left!

Varrich Castle (Mackay Castle)

Orkney Islands with Stuart!

The days, weeks and months have flown! I have been to Reno, Chicago, Scotland and Albuquerque since my last posting! Stafford has been by my side, in my thoughts and so heavy in my heart! I was blessed to walk the Farr Beach in Northern Scotland and hike to the Varrigh Castle of the Mackay Clan (McKee).

In reviewing the "tapes" of my Scotland visit, the most incredible experience was Stafford's Beach (Farr Beach, Bettyhill, Tongue, Scotland). It was a once-in-a-lifetime "happening" that has etched an indelible image on my heart! Much like the footprints of life painted on the sandy beach canvas, the experience becomes a part of the ebb and flow of existence. Words are insufficient but, I hope my son, Stuart Clark-Price, understands my gratitude is as expansive as the skies above and as broad as the oceans!!

I was able to visit Reno after Scotland to see my oldest son, Steve Clark, and my two grandsons! With them in tow, I greeted my 70th birthday!!! Whew!  I may overdose with blessings! I am humbled when I review the photos of my life! I have been blessed beyond description!!

A little amazing history story:

I moved to Phoenix in 1985 where I did not know a soul and had no friends, acquaintances or connections. It was pretty scary since I also had 2 small boys with me. (That's a story by itself.)

About 10 years later, through a client, I met an attorney who became a great friend and handled cases for many acquaintances of mine. I did some part-time work for him and we formed a friendship that has lasted all these years! He's always been in the shadows of my "Phoenix life" and, although we have only seen one another a couple of times a year, he's been a stalwart support system!

It's been almost 2 years since last we were in contact. Lo and behold, our paths recently crossed again. We spent a few hours at dinner and the conversation was non-stop as we "caught up" on the ups and downs of our lives, comparing notes through laughter and some tears. Of course, he wanted to be brought up to speed about my 3 sons and their "doings," my sister and niece, my brother and many others in my life who he had known or was aware of through past conversations over the years.

In turn, I learned of his wife's sad passing (a year earlier), his involvement with the Masonic Lodge, his still burgeoning law practice, the marriages and children of his daughters, etc. As one can imagine, we talked rapidly and oftentimes "overspoke" one another in order to get it all said and shared. It was a fabulous dinner to say the least.

When I drove him home, he told me to come in and share some more time because he had found something that morning that made him think of me. I was puzzled – albeit intrigued. He went to a closet and pulled out a book of his maternal grandfather's genealogy that had been written in 1959.

It is important that I digress for a moment in order to realize the impact of this seemingly inconsequential event. My friend had no idea of my own family genealogy. He only knew I was Native American and had been born and reared on three reservations. He didn’t know I was descended from the Huron (Wyandot) People.

I began to scan the pages of the book, not understanding why he thought I should see it. He had earlier explained that he too was a bit befuddled as to why he felt I should see the book. He confessed he had not read it and that it had been sitting on the back of a shelf for years. It was only that morning he had come across it while reorganizing.

While I casually perused the pages, my friend talked on the phone with his daughter. Not too much time had elapsed when I turned a page, read a couple more paragraphs and suddenly, I became overwhelmed with the impact of the information that was jumping off the pages!

I became extremely animated while waving my hands and telling him to hang up the phone! He hurriedly said goodbye and I began to rapidly given him an abbreviated dissertation on my family tree which included the period of time just before the Revolutionary War, being the mid-1700’s!

During that time, Thomas Alexander McKee of McKee’s Half Falls in Pennsylvania, along with 4 or 5 of his close friends, were facing arrest by the Americans for being Loyalists. Under the cloak of dark night, by just a few hours, they barely escaped capture and fled to Detroit (at the time it was part of Canada).

McKee eventually became the Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the British and became well-known in the annals of Canadian history. He and many of his friends eventually resided on the Canadian Huron Reserve in Amherstberg, Ontario and were either adopted into the Huron tribe and/or married Huron women. Many of these men/wives are buried in the Huron Cemetery in Amherstberg.

One of McKee’s fellow “runaways” was a notorious character named Simon Girty. He too is yet another person of great importance in Canadian history and was also involved in the Canadian Indian Department. He eventually was adopted into the Huron tribe (the name was eventually changed to Wyandot ), and he married a French descendant whose name was Catherine Malott.

Again, I must digress for clarification: Thomas Alexander McKee had a sister, Elizabeth, who married yet another McKee “runaway ” and they too resided in Amherstberg, Ontario. Their son was named after Thomas Alexander McKee and at about 18 years of age, went to work for his Uncle in the Indian Department. He married a Huron woman and two of their sons became Head Chiefs of the Wyandots.

You ask: “So?”

The sister of Thomas Alexander McKee, Elizabeth, married John Clarke, one of the “runaways” and they are my 5th Great Grandmother and Grandfather. The McKee, Clarke, Girty and Malotts were a large part of the Revolutionary Period and the formation of present-day Eastern Canada. Most stunning is that they shared everyday lives/events as friends/neighbors living on the Huron (Wyandot) reserve in Canada over 200 years ago.

The chilling revelation in the pages of my friend’s book is this:

My 20 years-long friend is a descendant from the Catherine Malott Simon family that was tied to the McKee and Clarke families 200 years ago! Today, in Phoenix, Arizona, (almost across the country) the Clark and Malott families are friends once again!

Following a zillion excited phone calls to my friends and family and trying to explain the footprints through time, my niece said:   “Many of us travel through time together and forever!”

(I just had to share this event/story!!)

It's late at night. . . I sit here staring at the computer screen with a myriad of thoughts coursing though my mind.  Looking at the mental images and reflections of the past year -- all the ups and downs - the phases of the heart and the seasons -- I recall the sounds of the wind and the deafening silence of the days, weeks and months and my heart experiences a kaleidoscope of emotion.  

I have run the gamut from rage to contentment - albeit momentary!  The rending of my soul has been salved a little with the gift of twins from Stuart and Kara. 

I only wish I could have seen Stafford's smile upon meeting his new nephew and niece! What a blessing to have held them on their First Christmas!  Happy New Year to me!!

I know he hovers around me - - I feel his spirit -- and it makes my heart ache a little more because I'm selfish! I want to hear his voice and feel his hugs - - just one more time!! What a wonderful spirit he had (has) and was such a giving person! He could make me laugh, he could make me cry, he could make me feel grateful, could make me feel important and had a unique way of validating me. He would kid me, tease me, scold me, and then apologize for hurting me. He was so real!!

So often I cannot wait until the sun goes down so that I can once again grab my pillow and be enveloped in conversation, laughter and hugs with Stafford. Sometimes I have to play head games with myself and "pretend" he is "across the pond" involved in a performance where there are no phones or internet and I can only wait for him to return and call me again. I have good days where I feel him nearby and then there are days of deep blue mixed with other colors of longing. I continually pray for the strength to adjust to the void of his brightness. Believe me, I am grateful to have had him for 36 years and to have so many wonderful memories of his antics, energy, creativity and a zillion glimpses of his generosity, caring and empathy. He will eternally be loved, remembered and missed.

In addition to Stafford's gifts to the world, Stuart and Kara gave the world a set of twins, Graeme Stafford Clark-Price and Isobel Sara Clark-Price, born 10/23/2013.  There are no words sufficient to express the joy of being a grandmother again!

On the morning of 9/11/2001, I was walking through my living room and my youngest son, Stafford, was lying on the sofa watching TV. All of a sudden, he flew off the sofa and yelled out! I abruptly stopped, turned and stared in disbelief at the TV. At first I thought it was a sick prank and couldn’t believe someone could be so twisted! The true impact of that horrific plane exploding into the building stunned me in such a way that I couldn't "track" sufficiently to form a complete thought!

In retrospect, standing there alongside Stafford and watching this horror story unfold, time ceased to have any meaning. All of my values and beliefs were shaken to the core and I hardly knew who I was, where I was, where I had been, where I was going!

When the second plane hit, I knew then that the world we had grown accustomed to had been blown apart and nothing would ever be the same.

I now know, with the ensuing years and all of the losses and heartache therein, the only thing we have (a nanosecond in the grand scheme of the universe) is the choice to make every living moment count in a meaningful and sustaining way.

My greatest joys in life have been the gift of 3 incredible sons who have all of my love and have earned my great admiration/respect --- along with the blessings of grandchildren.

We have all suffered varying degrees of “exploding planes” in our own lives. With that in mind, I fervently pray for the families, parents, children and friends of those lost on 9/11. If I could have one request answered from Above, it would be that the bygone days of enduring love remain as their everlasting and sole memory.

The most precious commodity that is ours alone is our “our allotted time”. Each of us chooses how to invest that gift……… May we never forget those we have lost and I pray that I choose wisely on spending my "allotted time!"

There are days I truly "grow my nails to hang on!" Those are the times when I dig way down deep into the dark recesses of my mind and heart . ...... close my eyes tightly and let mental images swirl and soar and float about in my head. With prayer and supplication, images holding "solutions" begin to form . . . if I just let myself "be."