"Regrets--I've had a few" and I Shall Mention Them Here and Come Clean!

We are shaped by the people that we perceive love us unconditionally.

I was talking yesterday to a friend about regrets in our lives. She mentioned that she regrets not finishing college, and I quickly responded, "But you can still do that!"

Then I said that my regrets are such that I could not do anything about them. Most of them are about hurting other people.

Being known for my "tactlessness," I'm sure that I have hurt many people unintentionally and was completely unaware that I had hurt them. But these regrets that I write about now are about intentional hurts.

I'll talk first about Dethula Mathis.

There she stands in the top picture on the left in 1984 at age 54, I think. Sorry the picture is not clearer.

Here's the story. It was in my childhood in the 1950s (grades 4-6) in Madison, Tennessee. My family and I lived on Berwich Trail, way down a long driveway by the Cumberland River. For several years Dethula was our domestic, as we called black women who came into the house to help our mothers with housework. Though my mother was a stay-at-home mother (as were most mothers that we knew), she kept such a spotless, perfect house, she needed help once a week to keep it that way. Plus she needed help to do all of the ironing that was done back then--to starch and iron my father's crisp white shirts, my school dresses, etc.

My mother was not a very nurturing woman, but Dethula was the essence of the word maternal. For years, she mothered me, as I had not known such nurturing before or since. As much as I loved school and my teachers, I loved her more. I couldn't wait to get home from school on the days she worked at our house and was always greeted by her big smile and a warm embrace. Then I would hang with her as she completed her chores. On occasion, I would pretend to be sick so that I could stay home from school to be with her. She would baby me like no other--fix me my favorite foods for lunch (PB& strawberry J and her delightful concoction of homemade chicken noodle soup with a rare gingerale), read to me, and rub my back until I fell asleep,  Later I discovered that she was referred to in the Madison area as "Big Mama."

Me around 8 or 9.

So life was good to me in those early years in Madison, Tennessee. (http://lauramallernee.blogspot.com/2014/01/a-memoir-very-best-of-my-childhood-years.html),

And Dethula was an integral part of that good life. I had felt loved by her and by my Granddaddy Clark (http://lauramallernee.blogspot.com/2013/09/a-memoir-someone-to-love-me.html) and by my teachers at Neely's Bend Elemenary School.

Then we moved away to Louisville, Kentucky, where things changed for me in many different ways and where these things changed me. (http://lauramallernee.blogspot.com/2014/03/a-memoir-louisville-years.html)

Flash forward to Madison, Tennessee, 1964. After a couple chaotic, confusing years in Louisville, Kentucky, my family had returned to Madison, where I was to spend my best high school years--my sophomore and junior years at Madison High School. I had left Madison at age 12, feeling on top of the world, and I returned to Madison at age 14 an insecure teenager, thinking that what mattered the most were the way I looked, the clothes that I wore, and how popular I was or was not.

Me at 13 or 14.

So one day as I walked into the Madison High School cafeteria for lunch, I spied Dethula way back in the serving area. Back then, probably blacks were not allowed out in the front, where we students were served our food. Immediately, I ignored her. Weeks passed and I continued to ignore her, hoping that she would not see nor recognize me. But one day, Dethula caught sight of me in the serving line and her face broke into her biggest smile, and she loudly and lovingly called out my name, "Laura!"

I turned away from her as if  I did not know who she was, but not before seeing the look of deep hurt on her face (or do I just imagine that). I had become a snobby little overt racist! Because she was black, I was rejecting the person who had shown me the most kindness in my younger years. And I felt nothing, or perhaps I felt that I was jusified. I don't recall what I felt--except embarrassed that she had called my name, hoping no one else had noticed. That was it; that was the only and last time that Dethula tried to acknowledge me. I guess she knew exactly what was going on in my small mind and smaller heart.

As best I can recall, I immediately regretted what I had done, but didn't have the courage to make amends for it. I avoided even looking at Dethula the rest of my years at Madison High School, for fear that she would again try to speak to me. I simply ran my heedless high school ways through the rest of my days there, caring only about myself.

Sometime later in my life, I began to feel shame and sadness and repentance for what I had done. But one day led to another, and my life continued on in its shambles through college and into adulthood. Still later when I read D. H. Lawrence's poem "Snake" and taught it to my high schoolers, I knew that I found comfort in his words:

"And immediately I regretted it.
I thought how paltry, how vulgar, what a mean act!
I despised myself and the voices of my accursed human education.

"And so, I missed my chance with one of the lords
Of life. [with one of the saints of life]
And I have something to expiate:
A pettiness."

Expiate means "to atone for guilt or sin." Synonyms include "make up for, do penance for, pay for."

I can see from an online obituary that Dethula died in 2010 at the age of 90 and left behind three grown children and many grandchildren and great grandchildren. I wish that I could have visited her in this lifetime, so that I could have apologized to her and told her my story of how much she meant to me when I was a little girl who lived at the end of that long driveway by the Cumberland River and how much her affection for me meant later in my life..

Dethula is one of those people that I will definitely be looking up when I get to Heaven, for I have a sin to expiate. My deepest hope is that she doesn't ignore me, that she will somehow find it in her big heart to forgive me.

Southern Utah in October, 2016--Zion National Park--my favorite!

After hiking in Byrce Canyon that Monday morning, October 17, I drove a couple hours to Zion National Park. Zion, like Capitol Reef National Park, is on the road that runs through it. Above is my first view of Zion.

(BTW, I'm sorry, but I notice that these beautiful, colorful pictures do not transfer to my computer (blog) as high defintion as they are on my phone. So you are gonna have to use your imagination to enhance them!)

Like Capitol Reef, Zion is also on a river--the Virgin River. In other words, a river runs through Zion, with all of its tributaries and creeks. Which perhaps accounts for its amazing variety of colors.

the sparkling green Virgin River

or sometimes blue sparkling waters of her tributaries

I had to go through several tunnels--some much longer than this one, which of course, required lights on!

That afternoon as I drove through Zion, I had to keep stopping my car and getting out to truly appreciate the vivid colors and forms of its captivating beauty.

I can't begin to describe the actual colors in this picture, which are not showing up. The colors of this same picture on my phone are deep tans with bright white tops and red rock to the right with vivid greens below.

Below is my view from my hotel room in Springdale, Utah, just on the outskirts of the park. The next morning I caught a shuttle right outside my hotel and journeyed back into the park. On the shuttle I met visitors to the park from around the states and around the world--there were many Asian people and people from Engliand and Switzerland. I heard Hebrew spoken and had an interesting conversation with some people from Isreal. 

Everywhere I went people from all over the states and the world were saying that they could not believe that someone like Trump was running for President of the United States! Sadly, I have to wonder what they think now.

Again the colors of bright whites and deep reds are missing in this picture!

There were many stops along the way, where you could exit from the shuttle bus. I got off at one them--the last one, I believe--and had a delightful morning hike along the river bank,

Unless you forget, we are out West!

.

As in the other parks, the cottonwoods were at their peak!

After I caught a shuttle back into the town of Springdale, I was treated to the best meal of my trip--homemade chicken parmesan--and from the restaurant, I had one of the best views too (see below).

All in all, this solo trip of mine was another fun adventure. I would not choose to go to these parks in the heat or the crowds of  the summer or in the snow and ice of the winter. Autumn and spring are usually the ideal times to travel into this region. Zion National Park and Capitol Reef National Park were my two favorites on this trip, but I would return to any of these Southern Utah national parks in a heartbeat!

Southern Utah--the third national park Bryce Canyon

So the 15 and 16 of October found me in Bryce Canyon National Park. Everyone is gonna have his/her favorite national park, and many had said that they loved Bryce, but I did not love it so much.

Yes, the towering rock formations called hoodoos were interesting. And the rose-colored spires, fins, and mazes were nice. But it was in the little town of Tropic one morning that I found more interesting sights within walking distnce of my little cabin.

The sheep farmer picked these apples off his trees for me! Delicious!

I've always had a fondness for cows, and these came over as if I was gonna give them my apples!

Even at the top of Bryce Canyon, I found a dancing raven. And still having an animal friendly day, on the way out, I spotted some doe and her fawns.

Ravens are very intelligent and capable birds. Some researchers believe that ravens have a rudimentary language. Ravens have been observed communicating ideas, not only to each other, but also to members of other species Ravens mate for life and are one of the few truly monogamous species of songbirds. They will continually use the same nest. 

These are the hoodoos for which this park is particularly famous.The Paiutes believed that the rock figures were people turned to stone by angry gods.

The next morning I explored a little more of Bryce Canyon before heading off to Zion National Park through that rock tunnel you see at the bottom of this page, and I found some more of Bryce's beauty.

I called this one star pennacle. 

Wasn't this a fun little tunnel? And there will be more to come--much longer ones as I approach and get into Zion!

Southern Utah--the second national park Capitol Reef

On Friday afternoon, October 14, after my last visit into Arches National Park, I headed off to Torrey, Utah, to visit Capitol Reef National Park.

Just as in a part of my drive from Salt Lake City, I viewed some of what I refer to as dirt mountains along the way--especially from the interstate. Except for the last two, the pictures below are not ones that I took and are actually more scenic than the dirt moutains I saw which were rising up from flatter dirt ground. There was no vegetation--nothing to divert the eye to something more attractive. The dirt mountians were broken only by gullies of water erosion running down their sides. Very rugged terrain. Very much desert terrain.

So just as in my traveling into Moab a few days ago, from this rather ugly landscape rose such beauty--beauty that we have protected by designating it a national park. I arrive at Capitol Reef National Park. The very road that I'm traveling on goes through some of the park! One of the massive domes in the park is white and reminded the earlier travelers of the US Capitol building and later inspired the name of the park.

As far as the word reef in the parks name goes, this environment was once an ocean, which by three powerful processes--deposition, unlift, and erosion gradually disappeared. Then over time a wrinkle in the Earth's crust was created, extending nearly 100 miles from Thousand Lake Mountain to Lake Powell. The result is a classic example of a monocline, or a one-sided fold, in the otherwise horizontal rock layers.  So over millions of years, geologic forces shaped, lifted, and folded the earth, creating this rugged, remote area known as the Waterpocket Fold, or as Capitol Reef National Park!

In contrast to the mono-colored desert lands that I had been traveling through, all of a sudden, a vibrant palette of color spills across the landscape. The hues are constantly changing, altered by the play of light agasinst the towering cliffs, massive domes, arches, natural bridges, and twisting canyons. Since it is October, the cottonwoods are a radiant yellow. And since the Fremont River and Sulpher Creek run through this area, the cottonwoods are lush.

In the 1880s, at the confluence of these two waterways, Mormons established a small settlement in this area that they named Fruita. They built irrigation systems to water orchards and pastures and to sustain a self-reliance agriculture lifestyle for decades. Families tended the apple, peach, pear, and apricot trees. As reminders of this pioneer time, the park still maintains these orchards, as well as the one room schoolhouse, blacksmith shop, and the Gilford homestead.

the one-room school house in the Fruita community

Carvings and paintings on rock walls are reminders of the first people who lived here from about 300-1300 CE and even earlier. These peoples are the ancestors of the modern-day Hopi, Zuni, and Paiute tribes of American Indians. They farmed the fertile land adjacent to the Fremont River and other nearby creeks and supplemented crops by hunting wildlife and harvesting nuts, berries, and seeds. No evidence of this culture is found after 1300.

Look closely and you can see the petroglyphs and pictographs on the walls made by the American Indians. 

I didn't stay in these teepees, but in a motel in Torrey--quite a nice town. It too was filled with cottonwoods. And a lovely art shop in an old house.

An ancient Carolina poplar in the backyard of the art gallery

Now here's the hardest part of Capitol Reef National Part for me to try to tell you about, and so astounded was I by this particular area that I took no pictures. Or maybe I knew the pictures wouldn't turn out. My second day in the park before I headed off to Bryce Canyon NP, I headed down a road that I had not previously been on. At first the scenery was pretty typically lots of red rock cliffs, domes, and canyons, and I almost turned around.

But then the asphalt road came to an abrupt halt, and a friend of mine from Kingston Springs who had been to Capitol Reef the year before had told me to be sure to keep going onto the dirt road. So I listened to him and kept traveling deeper into what turned out to be a gorge--a gorge that got deeper as I twisted and turned on this almost single lane dirt road. On either side of me were these towering rock walls and cliffs of various colors like nothing I had ever seen--so high and close were they that at times I could only see a ribbon of the blue sky! It was somewhat spooky and yet magnificent! It went on for several, several miles before I came to the end of the dirt road and turned around and drove slowly back to the asphalt.

That was the image that I held in my mind's eye as I made my way to the next national park that afternoon. But soon I found myself twisting and turning through a national forest, and I was at the top of this road filled on either side with already denuded white aspens.

Finally as I rose higher and higher up this mountainous road, this forest gave way to deep canyons on either side, and I was indeep on top of the world!

Except to show some of the colors and some yellow cottonwood trees all in a line further out and apparently near a river, this picture does not do justice to the deep caverns/canyons that were on either side of the road atop a narrow passageway that I was traveling.

  to be continued at Bryce Canyon National Park!