She Remembers

She remembers growing up in the little ranch house her mother made a home, during her childhood years, and beyond. She remembers her mother fondly, a caring, creative woman, and her rough, hard-working father who took pride in the rancher's way of life. She remembers a not-so-distant past, living on the ranch as an adult, raising her children, tending her own garden. She remembers helping out in the spring when the calves were born, and then at branding time, when neighboring ranchers helped each other to get the job done. She remembers that tight-knit community, where everyone knew everyone's business, good and bad.

She will never forget losing her mother to complications in surgery, on a Memorial Day weekend. And she will never forget watching her father slowly succumb to the darkness of Alzheimer's, a few years later. She can never forget not being able to say good-bye to either of her parents in their last days.

The ranch is silent now, a shadow of its former self, aging but solid as the prairie winds blow around the house, the tractor, the sheds and the corral. But I, a stranger to this land, can hear upon the wind their whispers, the souls of a rancher and his wife, telling her to keep on remembering where she came from, who she is, and what she is made of.





She is a country girl, a rancher's daughter to her very core. She is from the very heart of this land. She is America the Heartland.


To all of those remembering their mother and father this Memorial Day weekend, God Bless You. And to my good friend Jayne, I am truly blessed by all that my visit to your hometown, and you, gave me that day. Thank you, thank you.

J'ellen 2009