Blazin' Trails Cowboy Church

Prologue:

This week’s article is going to be a little…different. It’s been the most difficult by far to write. I’m behind schedule and seriously contemplated throwing my phone into the lake a few days ago when Tonya texted me wondering where the article was. She texted me again today and I wanted to scream back “Leave me alone, I don’t know what I’m doing!” But instead I responded, “I promise you that you and Alicia will be the first to know when it’s done.” I would never let these people down, but I’m a perfectionist.

When I sat down with the extended family a few weeks ago to get quotes for these stories before their vacation, I thought it would make it easier to get their thoughts and write the following segments. I had good intentions; I wanted to be organized and have it all mapped out. Looking back, I was wrong—terribly wrong. I think back to that night we all convened at Alicia’s parent’s house. That night I got to hear Jason speak and then Nathan, the rain was getting stronger, the mist had turned into a strong drizzle and droplets of water were on my keyboard. “We (my husband and I) have to get home now, it’s late—and I think I have enough quotes to get the next three articles done” I told Alicia. In that split second she said something that was basically a tornado ripping through my plans. She simply said, “We need to be getting home too.” I reply, “Oh, I forgot for a moment you don’t live here.” That is where the idea for this article sprouted, but I’ve been struggling for weeks to put it into words.

Initially, when Harvey Gates asked me to connect with Alicia and write something special for Brooke’s Round Up this year, I had no clue where to start. How can you put into words the enormity of the effect having, loving and losing a special-needs child had on someone’s life? There was no book or guide to begin that conversation. I didn’t know where to go with this story or what Alicia wanted to say. Frankly speaking, neither did she, but she was very optimistic when she gleefully said, “Harvey always said I should write a book!” To her it was so simple—all of this was going to work out wonderfully and be super fun! But she wasn’t doing the writing and I wasn’t family and for goodness sakes I had never even met Brooke!

What we could agree upon was that we knew there was a story in there somewhere. We knew there was meaning behind their family’s experience; but how does one begin that dialogue? Awkwardly and superficially—that’s how you begin it. Unlike a book where you write the entire thing and go back and edit later—this has been an organic and real-time experience for Alicia and her family. You the readers, are growing and opening up with this family as they do. If you look back and re-read our first segments and compare them to now there is a glaring difference in the complexity of the topics. And that’s why this segment has been so difficult—because I know what the next segment following this one is about and you reader do not…….

Why Do We Say It?

One of my favorite books is called “Why Do We Say It?: The stories behind the words, expressions and clichés we use”. Simply put, it is a collection of the most common catchphrases we use in our daily lives without necessarily knowing why we say them. I have had this book for over twenty years and have never sat down and read it cover to cover. Rather, it sits on my bookshelf and I only grab it when I “catch” myself using a “catchphrase” (and yes if you are thinking it—there is also a reason we say “catchphrase” but you can research that for yourself—be adventurous and continue to learn!). To this day occasionally, this book surprises me with little nuggets of delightful insight. I’ve never had the desire to read the whole book cover to cover because those little oddities bring me joy—as the late and great painter Bob Ross would say, “It’s a happy little accident” when I pick up that book and discover why someone else or I used a phrase unwittingly.

Retrospectively, I often find myself thinking about occasions where I have said something or made connections with people using catchphrases. We use these little idioms to make quick friendships or to demonstrate empathy (or when appropriate, sympathy). For example, it wasn’t until I started attending a cowboy church that I questioned the phrase, “Never look a gift horse in the mouth.” I had heard it—I had used it before, but I didn’t understand why I said it. So I pulled out my trusty little book and looked it up. Here’s what it says about that phrase, “It’s because the value of a horse is determined primarily by its age; and the age of a horse is determined by looking at its teeth. You should not question the value of something that is given you—and you won’t if you “never look a gift horse in the mouth.”. “Fantastic!” I thought and now when I hear someone say that phrase that additional little insight gives meaning to what they are trying to convey.

The first time my husband and I went to Blazin’ Trails was a Sunday. I had seen “Cowboy Church movement” on YouTube and being an ambitious person I searched and searched where the heck this place was. Eventually, I called the only number I could find and I spoke to a guy named Harvey. It was Harvey Gates, the founder of BTCC. I told him, “Well I’m looking for a place we can go so we’ll be there.” Later I would find out that he almost didn’t answer my call because I had a (724) area code. Yet something told him to answer and I spoke to him and sure enough we showed up.  I was raised with the concept that if you make a commitment you show up and do it, no matter how uncomfortable it may be.  So maybe I’m not a “perfectionist” but I have to follow through with my promises even if they make me irritated. 

BTCC has services on Wednesday and Sunday. Coming from a “Mega Church” it felt foreign to enter a small building where seemingly all eyes were on you. We couldn’t quite “put our finger on it” why it felt so different. We left that first service and said, “That was nice, but we don’t have to go two times a week.” Suddenly however we found ourselves showing up twice a week with it being something to look forward to. It took several months but finally we found the word to explain what we had been missing and what we loved. That word is “community”. What was missing in our lives, unknowingly, was the sense of community and connection.

The church has been growing, nearly double in size since we first attended, but when we first went over half of the attendees were family members in one shape or form and we were on the outside looking in.

The Best Laid Plans often go awry….

Months ago, Alicia and I just began talking and planning. Before that we weren’t really friends—we were acquaintances. Maybe if you saw the two of us next to one another you would think we are related—perhaps we could be sisters. We share a similar olive complexion and have large, unruly brown curly hair. Then we open our mouths and you find that clearly we are not related. Alicia speaks with a delightful southern drawl but I’m a darn Yankee with a Pittsburgh yinzer accent. Even though my husband and I have lived in North Carolina for 17 years, we’ve always struggled to make friends with “the native North Carolinians”. Southerners are slow to trust outsiders and any “transplant” to this area will tell you it’s nearly impossible to get accepted into their inner circle.

Last fall my husband and I showed up to help clean the horse stalls at Blazin’ Trails before a charity event. I told my him, “Well if we just keep showing up and volunteering, eventually these people will know we’re real. Let’s just work hard.” He reminds me, “You’re like “a bull in a china shop” to these people. Just give it time and they’ll come around.” I think there are almost 50 horse stalls on the property and I struggled along and cleaned 12 on my own. I wanted these people to see me prove myself—it was a self-imposed test. I had been given a taste of “community” and was going to do all I could to fit in. That same day was the first I ever spoke to Alicia one-on-one.

But backing up I have to mention that my first “friend” at Blaziln’ Trails was Alicia’s mother, Tonya. I fancy myself a good judge of character and spoke to this woman for about a minute before knowing she was someone that I wanted to know more—she had this “ je ne sais quoi”. “The French phrase ‘je ne sais quoi’ literally translates to “I don’t know what”, but it’s used in English to describe something that’s hard to put into words, like a special quality that makes someone or something attractive or distinctive.” We’ll talk more about her next week.

Alicia walks up and starts talking to Tonya and Keith about a hair appointment she was trying to make and I thought, “well this seems like the weirdest conversation between some fellow church goers.” It took me a good five minutes before I discovered she was their daughter! In that moment it was devastating—I thought “Oh my goodness they’re related too! Is there a single person here who isn’t related? Will I ever be able to make a friend?” Alicia and I bonded a little bit over how I managed my curls and I took the clip out of my hair and put it in hers. It cost a dollar—but her eyes lit up and maybe that simple act was the first time she thought I could be trusted.

After the charity event was over, there was a holiday meal in the auxiliary building. Keith came up to me and said, “Tonya said I think I finally got a friend.” That was one of the most beautiful things I had ever heard because I knew I finally had an “in” and maybe I would be accepted into the gang.

All my plans have fallen apart…

Eventually Alicia and I mapped out how to get ten articles together before the actual event of Brooke’s Round Up would occur (September 21^st, 2024). We knew where to begin and ultimately where to end, but the in-between articles were a mystery. Alicia initially came back with ideas such as “Brooke loved water, Brooke loved baseball let’s tell people about that.” However we had a real choice—do we write something superficial and sugar-coat it to get it out there? Eventually we settled on one common goal–”What if sharing the story of Brooke’s life could impact one person? Then, it’s all worth it. It’s a test of vulnerability—do you give up the most intimate parts of your life so that one other person on this earth understands that there is someone out there who is strong enough to say: “I really know what you are going through.”?

As we progressed in this series the overarching theme became “You are not alone”; It wasn’t something we started out with—it happened naturally. We had created our own little catchphrase and I giggle when I see Alicia saying that online now. Behind the scenes however, I sent many texts to Alicia with the words, “Please don’t hate me for what I wrote.” I knew she wasn’t really expecting where I would take an article or theme. And always she would respond, “I could never hate you—I trust you.” Yet I’ve asked her to grow and asked her to open up while all the time knowing that there is a delicate balance for me and I always worried that if I upset her I could be kicked out of “the club”.

What to write…

As we’ve progressed in these articles and gotten to know the story of Brooke, each week it has morphed into something deeper and grander. I’m often late in articles or scrambling at the last minute because I don’t know when inspiration will strike. When I get done with an article I’ll send Alicia one of a few favorite memes I have—they’re of a monkey banging away on a keyboard on throwing the whole laptop across the room. I use another idiom when Alicia asks me when the next article is coming out: “I don’t know…There’s no Rhyme or Reason! I just have to wait until I know what the theme is.” I pick up my little book to find out why I say that. It says: “Rhyme or Reason: Some poems have no sense to them but at least have “rhyme”; some prose is awkward but at least has “reason”. I see Alicia at church for the first time after our vacations and she tells me there’s someone she works with who wants to know when the next article is coming. Apparently this woman has been following along with the story and told her, “I’ve been reading these articles, every week. I look forward to them.” What’s next week’s theme” Alicia asked me. “Home” I replied, “I have this idea of ‘Home is Where the Heart Is’”.

On one hand, knew that writing her words and publishing them was fulfilling the goal we set out to impact one person. On the other hand, all of this became real to me and I lost my confidence. The original idea for this article was going to be on how the family always seemed to be on the move and making a “home” wherever they were—in the ICU, at Keith and Tonya’s. I asked that family for a lot of little anecdotes about home. Maybe they’ll write them all down later and share them. But that wasn’t where this article was supposed to go because Alicia threw me that curveball that night when I suddenly realized we needed to talk about “Home being where your Heart Is”. Like Nathan, the little nomad, the whole family seems to be transient.

Naturally, I picked up my little book and turned to the “H” section. It was missing. There was no explanation where that phrase originated. Perhaps it’s because it’s more of an emotive phrase and something we should just “get”. However as a lover of languages and ever the studious student, the desire to know where it was first used and how it became so popular remained. I couldn’t shake it off. I couldn’t move on or even possibly start writing this article until I figured its origin out. I start researching on the internet and come across this page https://www.bookbrowse.com/expressions/detail/index.cfm/expression_number/120/home-is-where-the-heart-is

Our search led us to the history of the phrase beginning with Pliney the Elder, a Roman historian who lived during Jesus’ life (not to be confused with Pliney the Younger his adopted son who wrote on the early followers of Jesus). We progressed through Lord Byron’s play on that phrase and then magically we got this little bit of history from the 1820’s:

“A decade later, on the other side of the Atlantic, They Fayetteville Weekly Observer published a poem, which according to phrases.co.uk reads as follows:

Tis home where e’er the heart is,

Where e’er its loved ones dwell

In cities, or in cottages,

Throng’d haunts or mossy dell,

The heart’s a rover ever.

And thus on wave and wild,

The maiden with her love walks,

The mother with her child.”

An entire two centuries ago, a staggering two hundred years before this article was posted, someone in North Carolina wrote that phrase which morphed into the catchphrase we use today.

There is comfort in Denial:

It’s said that there are 5 Stages of Grief– Denial. Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. But maybe those stages don’t necessarily pan out in a linear fashion, because I have watched and listened to this family who have only now for the first time after 8 years since Brooke’s passing discuss what they had been feeling under the surface. Unlike the unrestrained laughter that Brooke had on that first hayride, this experience has been one filled with tears and grief and growing and loving.

Oftentimes we don’t know how to “fill the void” in our conversations and even more critically the void in our lives. We rush in and out of places, make small-talk and push things aside with the erroneous concept that we will “deal with them later.” We brush things aside. put them off to a later date and let the kettle boil until the screaming whistle of steam tells us, “Confront this or I will explode!”. This article, part 8 has been a void for months. “What can possibly go here?” has been the unanswered question. You avoid it—you delay it. It is a gap and I’ve tried to fill that gap as best as I can.

What is that whistling screaming whistle in the background? It’s next week’s article—because next week’s article is about Brooke’s death. Yes, we said it…death. We’ve ripped the Band-Aid off. It’s a horrible event. It’s sickening, and sad and tragic. It’s a rage inducing memory for her family. However, it happened. Maybe that’s why we couldn’t fill the slot on this article on our spreadsheet, because how do you lead up to talking about something as heart-wrenching as that? There is comfort in the denial phase of grieving. Let’s procrastinate and push off this Part 8 so we don’t have to confront Part 9. As much as I want to stay in Part 8 because I don’t want to write Part 9; I have to remember that Part 10 is Alicia’s Testimony. It’s her re-birth and “coming to Jesus moment”. It’s beautiful and I’m going to have her do the writing on that part. For weeks I’ve realized I am coming to my last two articles in this series. I’ll be done and it’s up to Alicia to finish Brooke’s story.

As things go full circle, over eight years ago Harvey saw Brooke laughing on that wagon and realized the need for other families to experience that same joy. That moment was the creation of the first Special-needs rodeo in North Carolina—Brooke’s Round Up. Juxtaposition that initial idea from one he had a few months ago. He brought Alicia and I together to talk. We didn’t know it at the time, but it was something new and something very special. There were two people talking to one another from very different backgrounds and very different life experiences. Two women who share love, angst, fire, comedy and vulnerability—although neither of us ever want to show that last part.

So in yet another full circle moment, I think about my beloved book and its title—“Why do we say it?” I think we use catchphrases because they are universal—you don’t need paragraphs to explain things sometimes. We connect when we use catchphrases. We hope that someone else is listening to our story.  It’s easier to just use an idiom than to sit down and have a conversation.  This experience has been a “Gift Horse”, “There’s no Rhyme or Reason”, there’s no “je ne sais quoi”. A few weeks ago Alicia came to me and said, “Hey are y’all coming to 4^th of July at Mama and Daddy’s? The whole family is going to be there.” Without knowing it, we had become family and it wasn’t something I could have forced or planned out. It was all a “happy little accident”.

This year Brooke has impacted so many people’s lives.  If you’ve never met her, like me, it’s hard to give her the credit where it is due.  This year Brooke taught me the meaning behind the phrase, “Home is Where the Heart Is.” I guess that phrase didn’t need to be in my trusty little book, because when you experience it you know it. “Home is Where Your Heart Is”–It’s as simple as that—and if you found this article by chance two hundred years from now, just remember “You are not alone”. Because in our timeline, two spunky girls (one from the south and one from the north) have been trying to put together a story. This month we found out that two hundred years earlier some other North Carolinian left us a lesson and all we’re trying to do is pay it forward.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been procrastinating—because I don’t want this adventure to end.  At the same time I’m terribly scared of being ousted and losing my new family–there’s no one dollar hair clip that can get me back into the circle if I say something wrong and screw it all up.  Alicia assures me that’s not the case.  Her article and testimony will tell you about how loving and losing Brooke made her grow into the woman she is today.   She doesn’t know where to start to I’ll give her a little hint–it’s all about her hair. Each week we try to pick out photos that will be on the top of the article about Brooke’s life.  I’ve seen Alicia in pictures with Brooke with blonde hair, red hair, dark hair, short hair.  She is all over the place in those photos.   I didn’t know it back when I first really got to meet her, but I get it now.  We share and embrace our unruly and lovely mess of curls because frankly it’s too darn hard to try to settle them down.  

Epilogue:

I asked Alicia last night to proofread this article. There are two things she said to me that stood out. First she said, “Can you change “D-mn” to darn because it’s a Christian website? I told her I have a hard time with censorship, and I guess it’s because she doesn’t have to write the next article—I do. It’s my last one and I already have half of it done. In the most ridiculous crazy twist of all there is baseball involved. Baseball—the topic she mentioned that I couldn’t possibly imagine would fit into this series. There’s a song from the musical called “D-mn Yankees” that has been popping in and out of my head for weeks. Alicia had never heard of that musical. Maybe southerners aren’t really into musical theater? Is this another northern oddity of mine? The second thing she said was this: “I’m like you. I know the article that’s after this one….it’s coming. We always said that if Brooke’s life touched just one person—we just never realized it might be me that it touched and it changed.” So I need her to trust me, really trust me because I love her, and we love you readers. And together, we are not alone.