Land stewardship – PolliNative

Water | Oaks | Tornado Warning!

I ate two bars of chocolate for breakfast, and I was lit. No one said I was perfect – eggs, oatmeal, too hard for me to think about preparing that day, and I succumbed to the ease of – go to the fridge, grab a bar, open a wrapper, and eat. Then, again. Not proud, but true.

Lately, the intense investment of time, energy, thought and emotion over the last 12 months are catching up with me. My dad is improving; though there are still back-slides, he can do more for himself. As a result, I collapse into a heap of less usefulness and find myself tired all the time, getting out of routine, or filling those moments of routine with non-dad items long ago neglected.

This transition period is messy. Some days my brain is so out of sync I cannot put two words together thoughtfully. My diet of chocolate, peanuts and jam and, if I had some energy earlier in the week, basic salad, is not the finest to promote optimal brain function. Some days my husband will take pity on me and make me a smoothy, or an egg. This day, I am up earliest and on my own. Chocolate it is. Caffeine and I do not mix. I know this. I am hungry, lazy and just love the taste. Jitters take hold, and my plan to plant more oaks just got an accelerant.

Oak Planting Nearly Done

I planted all of the oak seedlings except one, planted all of the riparian oak acorns, and planted half of the elder oak acorn. The rest of the elder oak acorn I saved for acorn flour. I checked the plantings done earlier in the month and February. The cows got their snouts through the fencing on one and pulled the coconut coir. I put it back. Some of the flags were askew. I straightened them. I placed flags on others. I weeded away from new growth in the already enclosed plantings. Maintenance is important to ensure better outcomes.

Lots of worms in the dirt. This was the only larval one

Red are oak seedlings. Blue dots are acorn plantings

After one of the storms, I saw one of the seedlings I planted had its basin filled with standing water. Too much water, and oak roots can rot. One of the challenges of selecting a site is that I am considering access to water over the long term. As such, I have been planting near the creek or near a spring flow. One of the upstream oaks on Spring Creek is planted in a flow. It is west facing with other oak shade. The soil is predominantly clay. Excellent conditions for water accumulation.

I lifted the coir pad, stuck my finger in the mud and created a channel to allow the standing water to flow out of the small basin I try to place around each planting. It mostly worked to alleviate the stand. Water is everywhere, and that section, because of the flow, is already saturated. However, I was able to get the water down low enough so it was not submerging part of the trunk. The weather will be dry this week, and I anticipate the remaining standing water will be gone within 24 hours. I will go back and recreate the basin wall for the next rain event.

While out checking the oaks and maintaining their planted areas, I was quickly caught up in a storm. The wind was ferocious, bending the oak marking flags to almost 90 degrees. Fortunately, I was in my final section, which happened to be nearest the house. The rain started to pour. While I had a jacket on, I was wearing shorts (I know. I’m crazy). The wind whipped at my exposed legs, and then it started to pour. I typically traverse the ranch on foot to limit soil impacts from the quad or truck. I finished with the oak I was working on and bolted up the hill, through the gate, around to the front of the house, sloshing in mud (I had my muck boots on), mud splattering across my legs. Finally, I got to the front door – a soaked, muddy mess. Although I was almost denied entry to the house by my family, it was ok. I love this life.

Checking New Log Check Dam

I was excited to see that the new, poorly connected log check dam was still in place after one of the storms. It was doing its job, pooling water behind it, slowing the runoff just enough to really soak the soil. Then, the large storm came with 2.25″ of rainfall. I checked the dam again. It was not there. The rocks I put in place to help the log were still there acting as a smaller check dam and pooling some water. I walked down stream and found the log. It was caught up in a tangle of branches, leaves and gunk about 60 feet downstream. Not to be deterred, I pulled it out from the makeshift dam and began to pull it toward its original location. The cedar log, typically lightweight, was heavy with absorbed water. David, who was walking with me then, took pity on me and picked up the log with the flick of his wrist, to show off, and returned it to its place. We will need to secure it much better in the coming days.

Gates Shut. North Field Belongs to the Milkweed Now

One of the best investments I’ve made in the last couple years is the cross fence to protect the California Milkweed. It is a critical, early emerging plant essential for post-overwintering monarch survival. Three of the four communities of plants are protected by this fence. In addition to protection of the California Milkweed, excluding the cattle during prime wildflower season has resulted in 40 acres filled with wildflowers of all types, sizes and colors. This means I have unbelievable amounts of nectar without having to plant another plant across a huge swath of land. Not only are the colors dazzling, the smell hangs in the air. It is like drinking perfume.

I think because of the weather whiplash, the California Milkweed is stunted. They are not their normal size for this time of year and are already producing flowers that will bloom in about a week. As of 3/20/2025, there are only four of the possible 21 emerged. Given that this past overwintering count of monarchs has been the second lowest on record, perhaps there will be fewer butterflies floating this way, and the stunted plants will be sufficient. I have not had an opportunity to place a camera up on the hill. The last time I tried, there was no signal for my special game cameras. I think I will use it in analog mode and grab the photos off later. This way, there is something up there as soon as possible.

While I am on the hill checking each milkweed and looking for more emerging, I decide to take a break and sit, contemplate things. Out of nowhere comes Taawe (Hawk). They decide to come for a visit, flying close and low. Taawe is close enough to hear me, so I speak in my language. It’s an original language of this continent, co-evolved with the many relatives from this soil. We’ve all shifted around following a cycle of movement south to north, west to east, and back again. Taawe understands me; it circles, flits, plays with elevation, but always above me. It circles away. I call to it. Taawe circles back. We play this game for a few circles, then I lay back down on the cool grass, the smell of soil and moisture in my nose. It flies to the east, and I say “Chiokoe uttesia in weweria. Ito te vitne.” “Thank you my relative. See you soon.”

Guzzler Install Complete

It took David nearly six days over two and a half weeks, but the guzzler is finally complete. We still need to build a fence around it to exclude the cows and build out the tank portion of the system to feed more clean water to the unit over time. Currently, there are stock panels attached to the overhang structure to keep the cow away from it as best as possible. Panels are ok since the gaps in them are large enough for most animals to move through. They are too small though for larger animals like deer. It is a priority for me to complete that fence to maximize its utility. The storms have filled the unit, and it is ready for wildlife to drink from. THANK YOU David!!

Dangers Realized

Although I have relaxed more with the fencing in place, catastrophes can still happen. Three times now I have gone outside to find cows where they shouldn’t be. Once, they jostled the gate open to the far north field. They jostled the gate open to guzzler 1, and yesterday I found them in the Spring Creek exclusion area. The wire gate had been squished down. In all cases, my heart sunk with concern that all I worked for could be lost in one accident with a poorly structured gate lock. Things were ok with the far north field. The Ca Milkweed was fine, and not too many of the blooms were up to be eaten. Guzzler one sustained significant damage. The solar panel connected to the game camera was severed. The wire had been snipped and stomped on. The stainless steel mesh over the gutter was folded up on both ends in tortuous fashion. Fortunately, we have an extra panel with wire and more gutter screen. We can fix that. I have yet to assess the damage to the exclusion area where large lupines, oak seedlings and larkspur are all just getting ready to develop blooms. It would be a catastrophe of large proportion if much of that was destroyed. In all cases, I secured the gate locks with a carabiner (cannot be licked open), twisted wire (cannot be jostled open), and a second loop securing the wire gate.

Cows are not my only problem. The other day when I was assessing the Spring Creek planting areas, I opened the caging of a small oak to thin grass that had grown around it. I was on my knees peacefully pulling the grass away from the oak when I heard a thrash across the creek. It was a single wild pig. She was small, about 250 lbs, and had been laying in a hollow between downed tree limbs. She must have been assessing me for a while. There were at least 15 minutes that transpired as I walked, dogs at my feet, into the area, then to the caged oak, and then the time it took to open the cage and sit there for a while pulling grasses.

I immediately got to my feet and watched her run downstream, then across the creek, under the fence, up and over the hill. I didn’t think much of it until I followed downstream and found upturned soil from pig rooting, hoof marks sliding down the creek banks, a missing seedling from the slide, and then I worried about all the acorn I planted. Could she have rooted them out and eaten them? All that hard work for nothing? Pigs are non-Native and are very destructive. As a lover of all life, I have long pondered what to do about this issue. I hate the idea of killing them, but I may need to seriously consider that. With them in this area as often as they are, I may not ever be able to make headway on habitat. The survival of my Native relatives, monarchs, bumble bees, grasses, oaks and milkweed are paramount to me.

Wildlife and Flowers Abound

In addition to the pig and worms, I have seen interesting bugs, a ground squirrel, lots of various types of song birds and raptors, frogs, a silver bee, and most excitingly a couple swallowtail butterflies. I did not get a photo of them, but they are beautiful. It flew over me when I was lounging in the garden.

Water Everywhere

My neighbor said to me the other day that she has never heard so many frog songs in her entire time owning her ranch, which has been longer than me. They have been loud, joyful and seemingly from every direction. She thought it was due to my work. I don’t know if that is true, but I cannot help feel a sense of happiness that perhaps I contributed at least a little by creating lots of eddies, moist areas and long lasting puddles with the check dams. Thank you Kim for noticing that something was different.

Small rock check dam doing its job. Note the wider size upstream (foreground)

Tornado Warning

Tornadoes have never been a California staple. For all my cognitive years, I’ve not heard of anything like this until the early 2000s when there was a funnel cloud sighting in Livermore. In the last three years, we have had a real tornado in Santa Cruz, a warning in San Francisco, a warning in south Mariposa, one for some other counties in the Valley, and now, on Tuesday, March 17, 2025, two in one afternoon, both in my vicinity. This is not normal.

David looked at the radar and saw the first cell would be well north of us. He said not to worry. I was of course still worried and making a plan in my head – a California girl with no tornado experience except The Wizard of Oz, Day After Tomorrow and some documentaries I watched a million years ago. I remembered that you should take shelter in a room without a window, or a place with the most framing, or possibly in the middle of the house. Who remembered? Like most Californians, we don’t have a basement — and we are on the top of the hill to boot.

I had just started to calm down when I heard my phone beep loudly again. It was another tornado warning. David was home by then and looked at the radar. It appeared that the severe storm cell was going to be headed straight for us. I ordered everyone in the house to shelter in the laundry room, and to bring the cats and dogs. I called my neighbor to encourage her to move from her RV into her home.

The cell reached the house 15 minutes later. The thunder was remarkable, booming so loud overhead and shaking the house. Then, the hail fell, hitting our metal roof like an angry teenager slamming a million doors over and over. In just 10 minutes, the storm had moved on. Light filtered through the clouds once more. Besides the ground being littered with hail stones, several of the long dead oak trees toppled. I found one across the cattle road a day later. Chainsaw work is in my future for sure.

I feel grateful that mother nature is warning us instead of simply squishing us. We have an opportunity to act, to care, to show respect for all living things – to change the course of our life and be in greater balance. “How can I respond even more than I am already doing?” is the question I ask myself regularly. Two tornado warnings in one afternoon? What will it take to wake people up to care? For me, I am going to double down on milkweed, consume less, choose even less packaging, fly less, walk more … and … look into building a basement.

Butterfly Explosion

If I was in a dream, I would not know the difference. Real life has been unbelievable. There have been so many butterflies here, it is like a multicolor, zigzaggy snow globe. Painted ladies, west coast ladies, white ones, yellow sulfurs, hairstreaks, buckeyes, and so many others. There have even been additional monarch sightings! I’ve not been able to identify all that have fluttered and flitted their way around the plants and around me as I make my way through chores, a large, joyous grin across my face.

Not only butterflies, but bees are still abundant. We are getting european honeybees as well as a variety of native bees. One floated in front of my face today. There are still dragonflies, and a plethora of two types of beetles are eating my garden and flowers. The most fun has to be the toads. All the babies are now full size. When I near the toad pond, I catch a glimpse of pickle-textured eyeballs just above the waterline. They quickly dip back under as I walk by or lean in to get a closer look. The toads are soiling the water into that creamy jade green color. I add fresh rain water daily to try to stay ahead of the muck.

The warmth has continued during the day, even as the overnight temperatures have dipped into the 40s. There are still a myriad of flower blooming – pacific aster, goldenrod, butterfly bush, black-eyed susans, maybe one or two sunflowers, marigolds, tarweed, doveweed, vinegarweed, california fuchsia, verbena, and from my garden, basil, pumpkin and arugula are also bloomed.

Webs have been flying through the air with their cargo of precious spider babies. They land everywhere. Meanwhile, the tarantulas are moving about. There are not as many as last year. I’ve counted 22 so far. I have seen two other very large spiders and captured an image of one of them. The other was a wolf spider – the largest I have seen of that kind – and I have seen some very large ones. Sadly, I did not get a photo of that one. They are really beautiful.

Water is still running on the ranch. Odom Creek has considerable volume and continues to fill the neighbor’s pond. The spring on Spring Creek is continuing to produce, but the water runs only about 100′ before disappearing. Remarkably, the soil area behind the rock check dam is still green. The cows are back and have eaten the vegetation in that area, but it is still moist and producing new shoots of grass.

One of the down-sides of excluding cattle from the riparian areas has been the proliferation of thistle and cockleburrs. While the cows may not eat them, they trample those plants at the start, so they don’t get as good a foothold in the flatter areas. Seeing the cockleburrs up close brought back memories of talks with my grandfather. How he hated cockleburrs. He told me how they would slice into him as he crawled through hedgerows and fields trying to avoid being killed in WWII. It was after he moved from Omaha Beach into the hillsides trying to take out the bunkers that were slaughtering allies on the beach. He said they would stick into him and get into his clothing making him miserable. What a plant.

We had a Fall storm that was 1/2″ in just over an hour. My rainwater tanks filled more allowing me to extend my ability to irrigate as the weather turned hot again. I checked the guzzler, and it worked perfectly, as designed. It also filled that tank more providing fresh water for wildlife to access.

Note the water levels as indicated by the scum line. You can see that the rain filled the tank higher than the most recent scum line, which is below water level. You can also see how high the water once was by the highest scum ring.

The rain in late September was welcome and left the air clear, soil moist and made for dramatic skies.

Pollinator Education Continues

I have been continuing my pollinator education work. I joined members of my Yaqui Tribe at Indigenous People’s Day in Sacramento, where I included pollinator materials and plants at the table. I was also honored to be asked to teach with my pollinator team friends, Kristie and Deedee, at the recent Traditional Lifeways gathering. We discussed native plants, seed collection, medicine and food uses, pollinator relatives and then we had everyone plant native pollinator plants in an area we chose before the event. It was an incredible experience. As I began to speak, a monarch flew through our gathering of people. I nearly lost it. This is exactly why we need to plant as much habitat as possible – to bring back their population from the edge and to ensure that the next generation has the magical experience of seeing this large, bright butterfly as a regular part of their lives. Oh, I also completed my Pollinator Stewardship certification program and passed. The Pollinator Partnership conferred my badge – I am an official Pollinator Steward!

Yaqui relatives bring people around the healing drum

Up Next

This week I will be picking up the Xerces Kits for the Tribe’s Pollinator program and for another farmer here locally, Raw Roots Farm. I shared plants with them last year. They had a profusion of monarchs this year. I am so excited by their work. I am still waiting for clearance to build the cross fence from NRCS. I have my vendor and materials – all I need is NRCS to green light the work. The cross fence is to protect the rare california milkweed stands during caterpillar time. I am also waiting for a grant from Point Blue Roots program to begin my guzzler work. I am placing another one in the back 40 with a rainwater tank and catchment structure. I imagine I will be helping the Tribe’s Pollinator Coordinator plant plants this Fall. So…I am never without stewardship work to do.

Wanderings

Last of the Butterflies as Cold Weather (Finally) Approaches

Cold weather is here. Rain is here. I am calming down with the change in temperature and precipitation. I worry too much about water and the life it enables. My concern is not for me, but all the living things here. Sure, I can leave and be a water refugee, but most of the animals and insects cannot. So – I must use my power as a human to do what I can to ensure livability for all. It is a responsibility we all have, but not one that all fulfill. These values are typical in Indigenous communities and families. We are taught that we are part of the ecosystem and have an obligation to live with respect in reciprocal relationship with all things. I am not always the best relative. I have many more shoes than one person can ever use, for example, taking much more resource than I should. I try my best as a Native in the modern world to fulfill my obligations. I fall short often. No one is perfect.

I watch storm clouds move in as I prepare for rain.

So far, we have had .75″ in this rain year (October 1 start). If you include the 1.25″ in September, we have now had 2″. The lengthy warm weather has allowed the blooms to continue, which has provided welcome nectar for bees and butterflies late this season.

Not all plants are welcome. The lingering heat also allowed goathead (puncture vine) plants to continue growing. They are a painful scourge, and I work very hard removing them by hand year after year. Typically, they are done growing by September. This year, with the ongoing irrigation, their roots were able to find the water not meant for them, and with the sun, continued to grow. I did not keep my eyes out for them after the beginning of September, so many grew quite large with their prickly, penetrating load. I got to them too late and paid for it with large distributions of painful “seed”.

As cold weather descends, I will see less and less of these insect friends, no blooms, and not as many plants. Everything needs time to rest – the soil, the insects, animals, plants and me.

Xerces Society – Making a Difference

Wayfinding sign at the NRCS Center for Habitat Kit pick up

I have sung the praises many times of Xerces Society. They have very committed staff who work with diverse people and organizations to achieve their pollinator conservation mission. They are incredibly helpful and truly make a difference working with people who know so little like me. Check out their education on various pollinator species.

Last month, I attended one of their webinars on building habitat for native bees. It was so informative. I was able to go outside right away and create habitat per their discussion. Some of the things I learned that made an impact on me: 1. most bees live extremely close to where you see them. They do not have the physical ability (in terms of energy) to move too far away from their nest. 2. It is better to use leaf litter as mulch than wood/bark in areas where there are ground nests. They do not have the strength to push the bark away from the hole and could get trapped, and 3. Some bees nest in hollow sticks and some of those bees need longer sticks than others. They will take bites from leafs and use them to close the opening of the stick after they lay their eggs. Very cool!

The first thing I did was freak out. I had laid down significant mulch across many areas this spring to prevent moisture loss from the soil. My imagination ran wild as I was sure I trapped native bees in their ground holes by the thousands. I started to cry mad tears. These are the times I wish I had more knowledge to identify a bee hole. Son of a gun! I pacified myself by remembering that we must always think about balance. The bark mulch was crucial around the disturbed soil from planting milkweed and nectar plants to prevent the rapid drying out of the soil in the relentless Hornitos sun. I used the mulch for walkways to prevent soil damage and erosion in those areas I traffic quite a bit. There is considerable ground I did not cover, which is protected, and could host a bee nest. Ok, I wiped my tears and began to breath again.

The next thing I did was to trim the white sage. I had been cutting the old bloom stems for seeds as my Chiricahua Apache friend Pete showed me to do. I did not realize as I had been cutting them that I was making habitat. Now, with my newly gained knowledge, I cut the bloom stems at different lengths. The bee expert talked about leaving lengths between 4″ to 8″. I sometimes needed to squish the stem to make sure the opening was very round and open. I really hope I see a plugged hole.

I was also able to recognize the patterns cut from the willow leaves by native leaf cutter bees. Xerces staff person Deedee Soto, who I work with most, had pointed that out to me during one of her visits. Now, I saw even more. The willow leaves look like half moon Swiss cheese. I hope this means that I have A LOT of native bees living near me. What great neighbors to have!

Xerces Kits are back!

It is again that time of year when Xerces is distributing habitat kits. I cannot sufficiently express my gratitude for access to these important plants. I will be honest; not all of them survive each year. Hornitos is a tough place to make a life. Between drought, grasshoppers, gophers, and crippling heat, not everything can make it. Fortunately, life persists. Many of the Xerces plants have matured to generate seeds, and the milkweed has begun to run underground, replacing those that were lost along the way. I consider this a success and hope they (and their funders) do as well. We were able to bring back monarchs after a 10 year absence. Come on! That is incredible. Sometimes, I need to remind myself of this when I get sad about anything. With the help of Xerces, Mariposa Native Plants, Mairposa County Resource Conservation District and the Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation Pollinator Team – along with individual participants inspired by the work, we have made a difference in Mariposa County.

Grassland Kit occupying every inch of my truck

Because the pick up site is far away, I try to be helpful and offer to pick up other people’s kits near me. My young friend Ray Gutierrez called me and asked if I would pick up his kit. Absolutely! What a good guy. He and his wife Leeza are good land stewards. They live on a large parcel in eastern Fresno County. They want to make a difference and expand habitat they already have on their acreage. I met Ray many years ago when he was an Americorp staffer for Sierra Foothill Conservancy and have stayed in touch. He is a member of the Wuksachi Tribe from the Central Valley and holds similar values as me. We are connected on Facebook where he saw the information about Xerces and the kits. He wanted to make a difference for pollinators too. I guess social media is good for some things. I am grateful to him and Leeza for their efforts. I sent them home with a pile of greens and herbs from the garden and flowers for Leeza’s desk.

What a great young couple. They chose to get a grassland kit AND two hedgerow kits. Their SUV was packed! They will be planting for days and days. Chiokoe uttesia in weweriam (Thank you my relatives).

Checking off the plants and transferring to their truck

Fall Activities

I am gathering acorn from my trees to grow the next generation of trees that are on the west side of the ranch. Those beauties in front of the house are having trouble and getting older with no next generation to take their place. We never see any seedlings up on this hill. An attempt 10ish years ago to grow more from acorn failed. So, as mentioned in my previous post, we are going to try again. This time, we have experts available to us. As I have mentioned, it is a bad acorn year in terms of size and production. There are some trees along the spring creek that have full-term acorn finally dropping . David and I were there just at the right time to collect quite a few, and many are intact enough to propagate. In other words, all but 4 passed the float test.

The cooler temperatures and moist soils, bark and grass make walking the ranch a physical and olfactory joy. Every walk is deliberate, even if joyful. I am always looking for changed areas, new things, human interference. This is part of stewardship. On a recent walk, I found a landed mylar balloon, otherwise known as litter. Please dear readers, don’t get mylar balloons to celebrate anything, even for children’s parties. They often get away from people and end up being trash someone else has to deal with. They are plastic and can be dangerous for cattle. Little ones exploring their world can eat them causing a very painful and unnecessary death as it blocks their digestive system.

Yet another mylar balloon littering the range. David and I joke that there is some special wind current that takes all the loose balloons here where they deflate and become hideous trash.

With the drought, the neighbor’s pond is dry. This is a good time to help them out by looking for trash. It is amazing what floats down stream from others upstream. We are still finding mangled items from the 2017 major flood, which took out bridges and floated cars downstream. The other day, my good friend Chevon was visiting. We gathered trash from the pond for pick up later. We found two mangled metal drums, two tires, broken PVC pipe a metal pot from who knows when and a piece of wire fencing. Thank you Chevon for helping keep the land clean!

Chevon places an item in one of the tires where we collected the smaller pieces of trash

The spring in Spring Creek has been expanded slightly by the rain. Horribly, the large spring on my border with the neighbors has absolutely no standing water. The last time this happened was in the fifth year of the 5-year drought. It has always been so reliable, but I fear the pressure of everything using it doesn’t give it sufficient time to refill or perhaps there is nothing left to refill it with. The rains we are experiencing this week should help – but this is a very bad sign.

The small spring has more water and is expanding its presence slowly down stream

Here are some random photos from this past month.

Animam Mikwame/Día de los Muertos

For those not aware, beginning last month and ending last week is an important time for many southwest North American Indigenous communities. In my Yoeme tradition, the holiday is called Animam Mikwame. In the colonized Latino community, the holiday is El Día de los Muertos. As the Catholics missionized my Native yo’yowam (ancestors) and all others in their path, they adopted the holiday/religious structures that existed and added Christian elements. In this way, the colonizers could more easily capture the minds, thus labor and natural resources of the Native people. The Día holiday is very much based in Indigenous culture – with Euro-religious elements added – and of course, many opportunities to merchandise and market. I am sure Hallmark has a card too!

Some purchased decorations for Día at a house in Southern California

Nonetheless, it is a beautiful holiday that I hope you will embrace (if you do not already). Essentially, October is a time when the spirit world is closest to the world of the living and is at its thinnest November 1-2. It is a time to remember those that have passed, to honor them. Making offrendas, alters, tapehtim (tampancos/lofts) that include items that loved ones enjoyed in life. Marigolds have been used as sweet smelling flowers that help lead the spirits to their alters. They are still blooming at this time and are an important source of food for monarchs. It is no wonder that there is such a strong connection between monarchs and the spirit world. They are a visual representation of the spirits returning and a very real symbol of transformation from one state to another. It is a special time with food, music, conversation and families coming together. It is a time to think of others, not ourselves, to celebrate those we love who have transitioned from this world to the next.

My mother’s alter – Victoria K. (Ayala) Bernikoff

Who do you remember? What love from long ago or more recently did you lose? It can be difficult to think about – but that is the beauty of the holiday – the concept that they are always with us and closer than we think – especially in October. The purpose is healing, respect and the continuation of love.

The person who I remember always, all year long, is my mother. She was one of the most important persons in my life. Strong, yet gentle and so loving. She embodied everything the concept “mother” brings to mind. Tears are in my eyes as I write this, but they are tears that revel in the act of sharing her memory with you — because she was so important and such a fine person and someone who few really knew. She was quiet, contemplative, highly intelligent with good common sense. Importantly, she loved all her children unconditionally. There was never a moment I felt truly unloved or unsafe. I am grateful for her commitment to quality parenting. Too many people do not receive that.

I have had to struggle not to think of the bad things – the diabetes that could have been avoided in a less hateful world; the joy that could have been externalized in a less racist place; the emotional pain that need not have been if she had a more respectful spouse. I inherited her engagement ring, and when I touch the ring, I feel the happiness she had at that moment. The youthful hope she had for her future. Then, my mind moves to the hard times, the less bright reality of financial, housing, and emotional insecurities. How difficult that was and so far from the life she envisioned. — But I am getting too far in the weeds, and my mother would not have approved. She was also fiercely private.

Instead, I clutch that engagement ring and think of her being liberated from an abusive home by this strange, wild, fun, unusual man from the other end of the country. She loved to dance and so did he. I remember her smile, her glee at spinning around the dance floor. Her fulfillment by four children who she loved and took so much pride in – one who gave her grandchildren, another who gave her triumph, a third who gave her laughter and the last one who gave her music – each child with talents they contributed to make a whole to fill a hole – in my mother’s vision of her future. She loved to travel, and her wild spouse, who made her sad, also provided fulfillment. She loved to learn, read, discover, discuss. She was an intellectual, without money or degree, who learned by reading and listening, and passed along everything she had, everything she held precious, all that is good in her world, into us. I am grateful. I miss you every day, and I love you mom. I try to help where I can, to be a good person, to take care of the family and to keep what you created together as much as possible. I help children and vote for people who care about the world. I am flawed in many ways, but I have followed your lead to help with the valiant but nearly impossible task of leaving this world in better condition than when I found it despite the many powerful forces pushing the other way. I brought the monarchs you loved back to this place, protected their babies, which brought you back – from egg to caterpillar to butterfly to egg…from south to north back south again. I am as whole as I can be without you. Te tui yo’owe. Chiokoe uttesia maala.