https://youtu.be/5QgGtiS6_VY

My first home was the body of my mother. While I feel the spirit of my Mom with me always, I miss the home of her body. I miss her cool hand holding mine as we watched movies. I miss her long nose that we used to make fun of and call "witch" nose. I miss her eyes when they narrowed in on something important or shot daggers when she was pissed. I miss the loud snap of her fingers when she wanted your attention. I miss the wooshing noise her mouth would make when she was driving or thinking or distracted. I miss the softness of her chest when I hugged her. I miss rubbing her calves at night when they ached. I miss the sound of her heartbeat in my ear. I miss her voice saying my name, "Samantha," and following it with, "I love you." I miss the body of my mother especially today. Today would have been her 70th birthday. Happy Birthday Mom. I love you and I miss you.

I saw you on Sunday. I was standing with my sisters and mum having photos taken. It was my wedding day. A day I knew you would have been there for if you were still with us. I wondered if you would appear... and you did. A butterfly flew right over us, a lone butterfly - so I knew it had to be you. How funny that it happened to be your birthday as well. I was thinking about you, as I still do often. Thank you for that little gift. It meant the world.    

As you all know Tedra spent a couple of months volunteering in South Africa back in 2010. This is where I met her. I posted a story about it several months ago on this site. I also posted a photo with it of the group that lived with her in the house in Cape Town. It's obvious that we all fell in love with Tedra the moment we met her. She still keeps a special place in our hearts.

Back in late October this year myself and a couple of the girls who were also in South Africa with Tedra - (Angelica, Kelli and Melissa) wanted to show just how special she was by remembering her together. So we did one of the things that Tedra always talked about and bugged us to do - have a reunion. So we did. This picture attached is of us together again in New York City. We made it happen. And we made it happen to show how much we missed her and how much she impacted our lives.

Melissa and Kelli live in New York, Angelica flew over from San Fran and I came down from Montreal. But something strange (or perhaps not so strange) happened while we were there. Hurricane Sandy hit. All of us were stranded together for almost a week longer than we had planned. The more I think about it, the more I think Tedra may have had something to do with the bad weather - maybe just to keep us together a little longer??

Anyway, we did it. Yet again Tedra united people from many different walks of life and she brought us together again. It was like no time had gone by yet we had not been all together since South Africa, March 2010. We miss her just as much as the day she left us. And we still think about her everyday.

by bringing neighbors and friends together for good food and good times.

It wasn’t the sound of the waves lapping at the shore or the hint of light cresting the horizon that woke me. It wasn’t a faint whisper in my ear, a cool breeze across my cheek or a vision of my mom in a dream that woke me up. It was my cell phone alarm set for 6:10 (so as not to miss the 6:30 sunrise) and our need for remembering, our need for ritual.

Three months and one day after Tedra Lou left this planet, four of us (Bo, Me, Amy and Aaron) made our way out of our fine waterfront rooms at the Madison Beach Hotel to light four small, white rose candles as a way to call forth and honor our grief and to close the distance between us and her departure.

We walked along the course sandy beach to an area of exposed rock that created a calm pool just against the shoreline.  We lit one candle at a time, each of us speaking the words of an unknown author and taking a turn at lowering a burning candle into the waters of the Long Island Sound. The first candle burned until the second one entered the water and a small ripple extinguished it. The second one burned until the third candle went into the water and a ripple extinguished it, and the third burned until the fourth entered the water. A little chain of light—one goes out another burns. It wasn’t long before another inevitable ripple snuffed out the fourth candle and all that was left was the light of the morning sun breaking the Eastern horizon. All that was left was the sound of the lapping water, a sniffling nose. All that was left was the fresh air of morning that was my mom’s elixir. All that was left was the shakey, tender wound of our hearts.

A lone seagull eyed our white wax roses floating in the water. He watched and waited on a bit of exposed rock a few yards out from our watery altar, ready to swoop in for a tasty snack after we were gone.

And one more time we each reached our hand into the chalky powder of my mom’s ashes and flung her into the open sea.

Four Candles

The first candle represents our grief.
The pain of losing you is intense.
It reminds us of the depth of our love for you.

This second candle represents our courage.
To confront our sorrow,
To comfort each other,
To change our lives.

This third candle we light in your memory.
For the times we laughed,
The times we cried,
The times we were angry with each other,
The silly things you did,
The caring and joy you gave us.

This fourth candle we light for our love.
We light this candle that your light will always shine.
As we enter this holiday season and share this night of remembrance
with our family and friends.
We cherish the special place in our hearts
that will always be reserved for you.
We thank you for the gift
your living brought to each of us.
We love you.
We remember you.
                                                                        Unknown Author

It was our family visit to Grandma Tedra and Grandpa Bo's, Christmas of 2010. I had gone out to visit a friend and stayed out longer than originally intended. I was driving the car I got to borrow from Grandpa Bo, the schamcy mobile as I called it, with its heated seats, GPS, and more buttons than I know what to do with. As I was heading back to the house I realized how late, or rather how early it was, as the sky along the horizon had changed to a deep pink. The sun was coming up, but had not quite peaked yet, it was as if I was racing it home. I parked the car and got to the door, attempting to open it as quietly as possible. But of course it creaks louder when you want it to be quite. I was 24 and had told them that I was going out and didn’t know when I would be back, but still felt like I needed to sneak in.  And there she was sitting on the couch, wrapped in her comfy robe reading. How silly to think that she would not be awake. She was always up early, usually before the sun.  This is the woman that was often the first customer at a Village Inn or an I Hop at six in the morning for breakfast. She even met a college boyfriend of mine for the first time at the local Villiage Inn, and we showed up late at 6:05. She looked up from her book, peering over the rim of her Walgreens rack glasses, highlighter in hand as she always did when she read. Every book she ever read had more highlighting than any text book I ever took notes in, but she looked up and gave me a crooked, knowing  smile and patted at the seat next to her, beckoning me to come sit with her. So I sat next to her and we talked about my night, and about life, and about time, which was a subject she was very interested in and passionate about.  And we watched this sunrise together.  

Life is short
And we do not have too much time to gladden the hearts of those who travel the way with    
      us
So, be swift to love,
And make hast to be kind. 

                        From the journal of

                        Henri Amiel, around 1868 

Though written around 1868, this quote could have been written by Tedra. She truly gladdened the hearts of all who traveled with her by her kindness and love for others. We were blessed for having known her.

After her return from South Africa in 2010, I asked Tedra to describe her experiences there. The following is her report.I think it tells us as much about Tedra, as it does about South Africa, a country I have visited numerous times.

“I know I didn't explain my South African adventures.  It was/is all so beyond words and wonderful, heart-breaking, shocking, joyous, made me ashamed to be white! (Apartheid is NOT, by any means, dead in SA!!) and so many other experiences and feelings I cannot describe here.  I had infants die in my arms, I contracted a terrible case of pneumonia, 105 deg. temp....possibly SCARS, they said, and was VERY sick, went on safari-saw the "big 5" and many more!, was exposed everyday to TB, HIV/AIDS, hepatitis, SARS, polio, malaria, etc., etc. (was bitten and drew blood by an AIDS baby--he was hungry), watched people die in the streets, was accosted by drunk/drugged men, walked barefoot for over 2 miles in rocks and broken glass after I gave my shoes to a woman who had none (I had 3 more pairs back at home-base), walked in the rain after I gave my raincoat to an old lady who was soaked through with only a thin, white blouse on.......and that's only the tip of the iceberg of my experiences there.  I worked mainly in the government hospitals...and I use the term "hospitals" and "clinics", lightly.  They had no medicines.  I literally gave a baby an IV that I had made over a propane burner with river water and packets of salt!  He had dysentery and severe vomiting and diarrhea.  He later died, too. 

I helped to try to revive a 50 something woman who had a stroke while I was working with her.  She also died and I had to tell the family.....I worked with 4, 5, and 6yr olds, with infants on their hips, going through garbage dumps trying to find food for themselves and the infants while fighting off the feral dogs who were also hungry!  They call them "pavement dogs" there.  I could go on and on, but you get the picture, I'm sure.  AND....it took me 2 1/2 days to get home from Cape Town due to the volcanic ash from Iceland and flight problems!  I had 5 flights total, the last one to Denver from Frankfurt was over 19 hours long, and some of my delays were over 13 hours!!  I was exhausted when I arrived home and slept for days. 

I LOVED South Africa and the people there.  I was treated so warmly and friendly and they called me "Big Mama" because I was the oldest one around and I was a mother and a grandmother, and if Ashley has a baby soon, I’ll be a great-grandmother!  How strange for a woman who was only supposed to live to be 30 or so!  They don't know me very well!!  :-)  I'd go back to SA in a minute and live there and work the rest of my life there...if it weren't for Bo and the family here. I miss it and the people there very much.  I will return there someday, I know. “ (e-mail messaged dated July 20, 2010)

Most regretably, Tedra was never able to realize her dream of returning to her beloved South Africa but that doesn't alter the fact that she was a great woman.

John Palmroth

Milford, PA

Unlike many who have known Tedra for a long time, I met her only once in person when she and Bo recently traveled through Oregon and looked at some property I have listed for sale with my real estate company. I don't think any of you who knew her so intimately will be surprised by what I have to say.. 

In the first five minutes we were together I could see I had a woman of deep humanity, sensitivity and life experience.  She immediately shifted the discussion from a focus on her to a focus on me, how interesting I was and how pleased she was to meet me.  I remember thinking to myself at the time how the 'biggest people' are the least focused on themselves.  When I shared that one of my brothers had spent 15 years in the Oregon State Penitentiary, she seemed to relax that I wasn't totally wet behind the ears.  Our time together was only an hour or so but we exchanged email addresses and communicated a few times until near the time of her passing.  (I cherish those emails now) 

I had explained to her I'd be in Cheyenne Wyoming on a travel trailer trip with the grand kids mid June, that I'd love to drive down to Loveland for coffee with her and Bo if their time would allow.  I called to arrange the appointment but received her voicemail instead.  The next day I received the email that she had passed away.

Yesterday we returned to Oregon from our 5 week  journey across the USA with 9 and 15 year old granddaughters. Tedra's final email to me on June 3 was to enjoy the trip with the kids because "that was what life was all about". She'd be happy to know it was the trip of a lifetime filled with shared experiences and memories.  Having been in the 'people business' for many years, I could tell Tedra was a person I wanted to know better and could learn from.  I am not surprised to read the many emails from family and loved one's who were blessed to be embraced by her love and friendship.

My heart goes out to all of you who are so intimately impacted by Tedra's loss but.................I am 'lifted-up' by the awareness that she touched so many people, that I was one of the lucky ones...........and that her legacy is fueled by the love and wisdom so many of you have felt, shared and received from her.  We all know this life is short.  I am so very honored Tedra came into my life.  The 'energy' she put out is something to savor and work to duplicate in my relationships with others.

And Bo, I  pray peace and strength for you.  Tedra wasn't any dummy in picking her man.  I enjoyed so much the time I witnessed your interaction together.  

I believe I am an example of many many people over the years who encountered Tedra in their life, work or behind bars........ maybe for a short time...........but who could quickly understand they had been blessed with a special gift.

Very sincerely, rob            
 

It's impossible to describe how much Tedra meant to us all. She was such an incredible person and I am so honored and so proud to have known her.

I met Tedra back in early 2010 in South Africa. We came from two different continents (America & Australia) to meet on a third (Africa). I will never forget the first time I saw her. The moment she walked into the room I was fascinated and the first time she spoke I was struck instantly by her wisdom and her grace. We grew very close and shared the bond and experience of working in such an incredible place as South Africa is. While we were in South Africa Tedra affectionately became known as 'Mumma T'. This came about as we all spent some time in under privileged day care centers where the women who looked after the children were known as the 'Mummas'. Tedra was the mother hen in the volunteer house and so she quickly earned the title of 'Mumma T'.

Since we left each other in South Africa and went back to our respective continents we kept in close touch via email for the next two years on a weekly (at times daily basis). Life has a funny way of working out and back in 2011 I moved to Canada which put Tedra and I on the same continent once again. We eventually met up again at her home in Loveland, Colorado earlier this year and the first hug that we shared held 2 years of emotion, missed stories and relief. In true Tedra and Bo style we left Colorado several kilos heavier and having made the mistake of showing interest in little ornaments around their house...I ended up leaving with little nick-knacks to take home. We also went home having made many new friends from Tedra and Bo's old neighbourhood. I left another country saying goodbye to Tedra once again feeling more loved and fulfilled than ever before... but Tedra had an incredible ability to do that to us all. She had this incredible gift of walking into a room and enriching the lives of everyone in it.

Tedra has been an incredible inspiration for me and I feel so blessed and lucky that we both found each other coming from worlds apart to meet in South Africa. She changed my life, she changed my way of looking at everything, she has inspired me and even though she has moved on, her story and her memory will continue to do so.

We miss you Mumma T.

(Photo left to right: Brandon, Marlie, Kelli, Tedra (Mumma T), Melissa, Ed, Angelica (sitting in front))

My sister showed up at my door a couple of days ago...I should say her ashes. That's just like Tedra. It was not unusual for her to call me from anywhere on the planet and say, "I will be in your area soon and just wanted to make sure you would be home". By soon, she could mean days, or a matter of minutes. That's what made her so important in my life. She made me aware of how time can fly by and you must "do it now".

I will miss her forever. She is gone from this earth but I have my memories of us growing up together. Nothing can take that away. Every time I make soup I think of my Wah Wah Lou.

Love to you always....your little sister Jovalle

Maske is one of many Lakota words for friend .  I thought it fitting since I met Tedra in South Dakota. We both worked in the area of Juvenile Justice and Corrections and became fast friends. Tedra was one of the most generous individuals I had ever met. I learned so much from her and enjoyed spending time with her.  In the mid 1980's, I was in charge of the training component for the SD Corrections Association when we invited Bo to come to South Dakota to provide training for us.

Tedra opened her home to me when I was taking graduate courses in Sioux Falls and needed a place to stay on occasion.  She came to see us when our son was born.  And most importantly, she encouraged me to consider working for Threshold Youth Services, a community based non-profit and for Pam Bollinger, its CEO. I  joined Threshold Youth Services in 1991 (now Volunteers of America, Dakotas) and continue to work along side Pam and am doing the work I have always wanted to do - for this, I hold a special place in my heart for Tedra.

God bless you, Bo and family.  My prayers and thoughts are with you all.  She was a terrific lady.

Joan E. Neilan
Sioux Falls, South Dakota

You can shed tears that she is gone

or you can smile because she has lived

You can close your eyes and pray that she’ll come back
Or you can open your eyes and see all she’s left

Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her and only that she’s gone
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back
or you can do what she’d want:
smile,
open your eyes,
love
and go on.

Author Unknown

“Everything white,” she said, “I want everything white.” I don’t know why or where it came from. In my imagination it is the rolling foam of the sea, its continuous white crescendo that touched her where nothing else could reach, or maybe it is the white wicker furniture on an old Victorian waterside porch in her dream house, where she nestles into the white pages of a good book. All I know is that it was her thing. She was into white. Everything white.

On birthdays, mother’s day, hospital stints, any time we sent flowers they were white (no carnations of course) but different shades of white. In her various houses she’d allow color, but there were always swaths of white, whether it was a kitchen with white cabinets and walls (with the occasional tinge of blue), or a white couch or chair or white carpet, which never made sense to me, especially the Thanksgiving when Maddie cut her lip on the metal edge of the white sleigh coffee table and bled all over the white couch and the white carpet. The whiteness made the blood all the more visible. Perhaps that is why she loved it so much. It is after all the absence of color, the absence of story or hue, a space where all things are nascent and possible, a space where things reflect only the pure truth of themselves.

So it is more than a perfect ordinary miracle that two days after her death, when Amy, Bo and I were going out the front door that there, gracefully resting on the red brick, was a white moth. There was no missing it. It was right by the front door, in the full light of the mid-day sun amidst the smell of heat and wild fire smoke, at eye level. None of us had seen anything like it. This white moth had no interest in hiding in a dark corner waiting for the cover of night, as moths usually do. It was there, perched out in the open.   

We knew right then without question this regal creature, pure and delicate, whiter than white, was Tedra telling us loud and clear she was here with us. Taoist belief holds that moths are human souls transformed. Souls take the form of flying insects like butterflies and moths to pay the living a visit. 

She paid us a visit to tell us that her soul transformed. She stayed for several days. She alighted on the red brick by the front door right before our eyes to remind us, to assure Bo, that we are the wind beneath her wings, and that there should be no doubt, no doubt at all that she is flying the vast sky--flying in her full regalia of pure truth, pure whiteness. 

This article was written by a colleague of Bo's at NJCU honoring my mom. She regulary contributes to this Jackson, Mississippi newspaper.  Click on the photo image and then click the full screen button to see a bigger version.