A week ago some of us rose early on an Oklahoma morning. We piled in trucks and drove out to the Gloss Mountains near my hometown. It was still dark and cold when we got out and found our way up the paths. There are steps almost to the top now though when I was a kid it was only dirt. I was glad about the concrete steps since all I brought were heels and a pair of white wool sneakers, neither one practical for kicking up red dirt. My white sneakers would have to do the job and there was a good chance they’d be a permanent shade of pinky orange by the end. But it would be worth it, no matter the case.
We hadn’t planned any outings on this trip home. We were there to say goodbye. We were there to say farewell to mom. Her children, grandchildren, great grandchildren “spread hither and yon” had all come together to remember, to give thanks for a life well lived, to shed tears. Her funeral would be in a just a few hours and it seemed perfectly right to take a sunrise hike up the Gloss Mountains in her honor. She loved to be outside. She loved to hike and take walks well into her 80s. I felt she was with us as we climbed in the dark with the moon lighting our way. We reached the mesa and looked across miles of prairie toward our town, our faces lit by the rising sun. It was beautiful. It was a sight she would have soaked in fully so that is what we did. We stood still. We reflected. We held her memory.
And my sneakers? Well..they’re still white but with a touch of Oklahoma red…just one reminder of a childhood well lived and the mother who loved us.
