A life well lived

Earlier this year I committed to getting a blog out every week.  In order to do that not every blog can be planned out over several weeks.  Some blogs will have to be about what is going on inside my head right now.  About life events, what I've learned from them, and how those lessons can be made useful for anyone who reads the blog.

This is one of those blogs. 

Grandma Great (my wife's Grandmother) passed away this week.

That is her behind my giant head, this last  Christmas on our way from Mesa to visit Auntie Dawn in Phoenix.

I loved Grandma Great, but I have not shed a tear at her passing.  It is an absence that will be felt.  A hole that will hurt.  But it is not sad.

Beverly Hibbard is an example of a life well lived.

A few posts back The shield gets heavy I wrote about how my daughters came to realize that I could die doing my job, and that if Dad could die anyone could die.

I ended that post with this poem:

So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. 

Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.

Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and grovel to none.

When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself. Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision.

When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.”

~ Chief Tecumseh

Bev was not a "warrior", but she did live her life by the warrior tenants the poem espouses.

A life well lived.

I'd like to honor her by giving examples of how she lived by those tenants and sharing some of my favorite memories of her

Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. 

Most of my memories of Bev revolve around weekends at the lake cabin.  My in-laws had recently been further exploring their faith.  As such my brother-in-law had been leading us in grace at every meal.  Bev knew that I had been raised Catholic so latter in the weekend, at dinner she turned to me and said - Kasey why don't you lead us in one of your family's  prayers.  I responded - I don't know Grandma, I'm not sure we pray to the same Gods anymore.  She insisted that I go ahead, so I started.

Great and powerful Odin we prepare this blood sacrifice in your honor, please chose which of these children... She interrupted in her tone that she used when she was clearly sick of some one's nonsense - Oh Ryan you just do it.  Then my brother-in -law said a very lovely grace, and my religious beliefs we no longer discussed.

Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people.

In a time when most women did not work out side the home, Bev had a long and rewarding career as a teacher.  After which she enjoyed her retirement, traveling the world and going on adventures with her Husband Ron.

Bev loved arts and crafts.  I am sure anyone reading this because they knew Bev (as opposed to the regular readers of the Budo Blog) has in their home, or has seen some of the beautiful things she made and shared.  

When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living.

Bev spent her career teaching home economics.  Besides her children, grand children, and great grand children she taught 100's if not 1000's  of people not only how to cook, but she shared her love of cooking.  Bev enjoyed making others happy and cooking for them is one way in which she expressed her love.

Here is Grandma Great making one of those meals with Syd and Gi

Grandma Great sent me the news paper clipping from the Battle Lake paper looking for a Police Officer.  She helped me get my start in Law Enforcement, and gave me a place to stay as I started my career.

I remember it was August of 1999.  I was living at the Cabin with her and Ron.  I had a rare weekend off, and I talked them into letting me buy Summer Slam on pay per view.

They decided to watch it with me.

I don't remember the exact details of the show, but there was some sort of pie fight.

The Rock comes out and works the mic the way only the Rock can.

He says something along the lines of [if you can you should read this in the Rock's voice]

"The Rock loves apple pie, and The Rock love pumpkin pie, but do you know The Rock's favorite?  The ROCK!...can't get enough of that Poontang pie.   If ya smellllllllllllalalalalalalalalallalaaaa!, what the ROCK!, is cookin'"

So Grandma who as I mentioned spent her life cooking, and teaching others to cook turns to me and says...
 - I've never heard of poontang pie, what is that?

Grandpa Ron who was a war vet and had seen the world looks at me with an expression that I read as  - how are you going to explain this wise ass.

Gulp, well Grandma that is something I am not really comfortable talking to you about.

She did not smell what the Rock was cookin'

When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.”

When it was her time to go, Bev was at peace.  She had lived a full and good life.  Bev went on to her next adventure.  What ever your beliefs on the after life are, Bev lives on in her Great Grandchildren, and in our memories

Bev was not a "warrior" but to many she was a hero.  This week we sent a hero home.

She will be remembered.

Ok, I lied I cried a little when I wrote this, so what, you want to fight about it?  It only counts as crying if you let other people see it.  I can't help that it is so dusty in my office.  It is not my fault some of that dust got in my eye.

Some blogs will have to be about what is going on inside my head right now.  About life events, what I've learned from them, and how those lessons can be made useful for anyone who reads the blog.

I have written plenty about living your life as Bev did, as Chief Tecumseh's poem espouses.

This post I'd like to share ways to remember / pay homage to those that have passed.

My brother Kent sent his condolences to my wife via text.

It read something along the lines of  - I liked your Grandma, and I liked her famous beans.  You need to continue making those beans.

Kent's wife Barb passed away over a decade now, but to this day we still have Barb nachos.  My daughters never met Barb so when we eat Barb nachos (a treat she would make for everybody, especially when we all got together for the holidays) I try to always remind them why they are called Barb nachos and tell them a story about Barb.

So you can keep memories alive by sharing meals and stories

Not too long ago my good friend Maija Soderholm's instructor Maestro Sonny Umpad passed away.

Here is some video of them training together.

Maija told me that many cultures believe that the spirits of the deceased can feel and smell vapors. You can examples of this in lighting candles, burning sage, or burning incense. 

It is believed that because smoke is ethereal, that burning these things brings our loved ones peace.  

"Basically the point is that smoke has no 'body' so can reach the spirit world easier. It's a way of communicating between the material and the spirit worlds"

-Maija Soderholm

Maija also told me that Sonny loved to smoke and he called cigarettes "my oxygen".  So every year on his birthday, Maija enjoys a smoke and shares some with Sonny.

I liked that idea a lot.  So much so, in fact I adopted the habit of sharing the first puff of a cigar with all the instructors that have helped me along the way, but are no longer with us.  Although I never met or trained with him I share some with Sonny too, because I do get to train with Maija and if someone like her held Sonny in such high regard he must have been something special.

This is a picture of the back yard of the cabin near the fire pit.  That is Bev and Lu playing bean bags.

I have smoked plenty of cigars in that back yard.

I'll save the last puff for Bev.  Which is kind of funny because she used to bust my chops about "wasting money on those dumb things".

She would ask how much does one of those dumb things cost.  I would reply not nearly as much as a box of wine (of which Bev would enjoy from time to time)

Bev would come back with something like, well Ronalda brought that up for me.

To which I would counter, well someday my kids will indulge my vices, but until then I'll get by. Then I'd give her a wink.

We would smile, she would drink her wine,  I would smoke my cigar and we would watch the fire for awhile.

You can share a meal that reminds you of them

You can share stories

You can burn smoke for them

If those don't work for you, develop you own method of remembering.  

Whatever method you chose to remember them by,  they will live on in your memories.

Hold the memories dear but find a way to let them go.  It can be hard, especially if you had unfinished business / unresolved issues.  Do what you need to do to be be good with your loved ones while they are alive.  Find time to spend with them because tomorrow is promised to no one.

When they are gone let them go.

You owe it to them to find peace and remember them fondly.  

Your peace will help them find their peace.

Train hard, train smart, be safe

Cherish the time you have with those in your life.