Dear Diary,
Today, I saw a dragonfly the size of my hand! To be honest, I’m not sure that I’ve seen a bug quite that large since I was in Uganda ten years ago. It was wild and it was beautiful; kind of like this ranch.
We walk a lot here! Like. a. lot.
Today, I walked close to 5 miles throughout the day, that’s 11,000+ steps incase you’re wondering— In 80-85 degree heat. Our housing is on the far edge of camp, which for me is actually fabulous because I do my best thinking while I’m walking (or driving), plus it’s mandatory daily exercise if I want to eat or see other humans. Which I am in favor of both of those things– talking to other people and eating food.
Anyway, the road in the picture (left) with the red barn is a picture at the entrance into camp. We cross that road walking past the white house in the grove of trees a minimum six times a day— at minimum. For most people this has absolutely zero significance, it’s just the house where the medical team volunteers live during the summer.
For me, it’s buzzing with fuzzy memories blurry from thirty years of time and trauma. The brain is truly an incredible thing because just being in proximity to this place is slowly bringing memories I had completely forgotten/lost back into focus with clarity. I’m recovering some precious parts of my childhood.
Something you should know: I used to live here; in that white house; for three years of my childhood. We lived at The Muddy Ranch for three years, it was the longest I had lived in one place before I turned ten. We lived here a few years after the cult cleared out and the new owner of the ranch needed a Ranch Manager. My dad took the job, my mom moved here sight unseen with three kids under three. It’s not that my memories are totally blank or blocked out because something awful happened here, nothing like that, it’s just that there was so much adapting and change that took place in my life from the ages of 1- 10 years old that my memories are blurry at best. If I’m counting correctly, my family moved into ten different houses by the time I was 10-years-old (including eight-ish different towns/locations). Thankfully, I was homeschooled and it wasn’t 8-10 different elementary schools, as well.
It’s weird being the oldest of four siblings sometimes, because the other kids in my family didn’t all have the same experience that I did. For instance, my youngest sister lived in the same neighborhood from the time she was 4 until she was 13 and has extremely vivid memories from growing up and those ages. Don’t get me wrong there are plenty of diverse challenges each of my siblings and I have each experienced and overcome— I’m just saying that particular aspect of childhood was different for each of my siblings to varying degrees and I have a very hard time clearly remembering very much.
It has really bothered me that the memories are so fuzzy, especially this last year because it feels vulnerable– like anyone could manipulate my memory and I wouldn’t have enough clarity to argue my perspective. Also, when my husband and I have kids one day I want to be able to share stories from when I was a little girl.
Can I share with you some of the things I’m starting to remember???
- Learning to ride my bike without training wheels in the back paved area and feeling brave.
- Searching for kittens on the side of our big white house.
- Adding cranberry juice to my cream of wheat cereal because we were out of milk; it wasn’t great.
- Waking up at 5 am to ride a horse and go feed cows with dad…. I don’t remember riding the horse or feeding the cows or even riding out to see them but I remember getting back to our house afterward and being soooo incredibly tired.
- Bottle feeding two little calves that were rejected by their momma’s (or the mom cows died I’m not sure). My brother and I named them Barney (like the purple dinosaur) and Broccoli. I remember liking the smell of the milk formula we would help mix up to feed them.
- Getting bit on the arm by a cow dog when I tried to pet the border collie while it was eating and needing a tetanus shot.
- Our beloved Alaskan Huskie, Cody, ran away and was lost for a few weeks. My brother and I went up front at church to pray that Cody would come home… and he did!!! Within a few days of praying at church, Cody was found by some rafters on a river (several hours away) and they brought him home later that week.
- Running out the front door of the house trying to swing my rope in a lasso over my head when the calves escaped the barn and tried to eat mom’s flowers in the yard.
- Practicing lassoing on a bail of hay with a plastic bull head strapped on.
- Going on a family bike ride at dusk, looking down as I was coasting and riding my bike over a snake sunning itself on the warm pavement.
- My dad riding a horse named Rocky-Top, a brown horse with white patch on his nose, past the red barn up to the house with two other ranch hands.
- A ranch hand that I had the biggest crush on taught me, “You never mess with a man’s hat, a man’s dog, or a man’s truck (???)” I’m not actually sure if it was truck for that last one, but hat was definitely number one. (Remember: I was very little only 3-6 years old).
- Some people came to visit and I was siting on our swing set, the husband complimented my hair color and I had just learned the name of it. So, I very proudly said, “It’s BLUEberry Blonde.” He kindly said, “Blueberry blonde?? wow!” Knowing all the time I had meant to say STRAWberry blonde. It became a little joke in our family and my first email address actually was blueberryblonde_07.
- Tia Morrow being bucked off a horse and drug through the gravel; waking up from my nap to her wrapped in a white sheet in the middle of our living room, and several people helping get gravel out of her scrapes.
- A green velvet long dress that made me feel like an actual princess walking down the stairs.
- My adult cousin, Angie, came to live with us for what seemed like the whole time we lived in this house, but I’m told it was only a few months. She sang to me every night. She was my very favoritest person in the whole world.
- One night, I couldn’t find my pink bear, Angie helped me look for it (partly because I became hysterical every time they tried to get me to go to bed without it and partly because she was so gentle and kind with me) until we found it under some clothes in my closet.
- The morning of my 5th birthday I got to move into my very own room with a day bed and a frilly lace heart pillow!!!! I felt sooo grown up. I had to go back to sharing a room with my siblings after we moved away from that house, but that morning of my 5th birthday was extremely special.
- Dennis Washington (the owner before Young Life and after the Rajneesh) coming to visit and getting to explore a big black helicopter at the airstrip.
- My sister Tasha, as a baby, sucking on her big toe in a bouncy seat on the kitchen table top.
- My mom teaching me letters and sounds with flashcards sitting crisscross apple sauce on the dining room floor.
- Getting the chicken pox when my mom had surgery to get her gallbladder out and my Grandma Gerry taking care of my siblings and I. One of the nights she was there we had fevers plus there was an electrical storm– my brother and I crawled into bed with her and she made us feel safe.
- My mom making cinnamon rolls and homemade pies for my dad and the ranch hands.
- A BAD horse, was his name Jay?? He kept eating the top rail of the corral, I always thought it was because he missed his home in the wild.
- Someone telling me that the magic cure to being sick was warm toast with butter and peanut butter on it– I was VERY skeptical.
- Finding out my mom had a miscarriage and standing on the sidewalk in our front yard leading up to the front porch thinking about what that meant, not knowing, but knowing my mom was very very very sad. There were yellowish orange flowers on tall grass stalks growing next to the sidewalk.
- My friend Shelby and I were playing on statues while our mom’s were on a walk that we thought were animals. The next day our statues we were playing on were bulldozed and destroyed. I was told they were inappropriate. It was only later in life that I found out they were actually statues of genitals. (To be fair: if my 3-year- old was playing on a statue of genitals that were remnants from a cult I would probably bulldoze it as well.)
- Asking my mom to help me invite Jesus into my heart in the living room, after I watched an episode of “Touched by an Angel” and before Mr. Rodgers started next.
- Learning to trill my /r/ sound to make the phone pretend ring in our playroom.
Hopefully there will be more memories that pop up over time, but this has been a treasure trove of clear-in-focus memories God has gifted back to me thus far.
The devotional we started as a camp crew today talked about how God has this M.O. for bringing order into chaos. I’m grateful these memories were not lost forever, and that God has chosen this particular trip to start bringing into focus memories from my childhood one or two pixels of the picture at a time— Jesus is brining order to chaos.
Until next time,
Melissa
Compassionate Odyssey 