Evilness in the World

(Pardon me while I digress... I am still digging through pictures to complete Part 2 of the Dreaming Nomad.) I woke up this morning to the sound of Tucker, the evil 90 lb dog that has been sent from hell to complicate my life, chewing up ornaments from off of the Christmas tree. Actually, this post is not about how evil my dog is, I realize he is just a very large puppy with a very small brain :) He didn't know how much that particular ornament meant to me. He didn't realize (until I kicked his obnoxious butt out into the cold morning snow) that the ornament he so carefully choose to dispose of was made for me by my good friend and former step-mother, Roxy. Actually, most of the ornaments on my tree are from her. From Chelsie's very first Christmas, up until a few years ago, Roxy would give us special ornaments every Christmas to hang on our tree. She made each one special by writing each of the kids names on it and the year she gave it to us. She even handmade several elaborate ornaments with sequins one year. I can't imagine the amount of time it took her to make those... they were so detailed and meticulously made. Tucker didn't realize that he was demolishing something that she put a lot of time and love into and something that we have cherished for at least 10 years.

Roxy died on June 12th, 2005. She died after a courageous fight against one of my top ten evilnesses (not a word, I realize, but in the immortal words of Roxy -- I'm "vocabulizing") in the world -- cancer. I started to put that word all in capitals, but then I decided that it doesn't deserve that privilege. Because even though cancer is what finally took Roxy's life, it is not what defined her life. What defined Roxy in my life was her big, beautiful smile, her deep, probbing questions, her enduring support -- simply put, her friendship.

Roxy and my dad first started dating when I was 16 years old. Oh... can you imagine? I'm sure evilness is one of the words Roxy used to describe me during that time period. She tried so hard to be my friend, but my hormones and teenage mercilessness wouldn't allow it at the time. Fortunately for me, they stayed together and married after I left home for college.

Roxy always loved to make you think. I think she should have been a psychologist. She would ask the most penetrating questions. And they would come from out of the blue -- when you least expected them. And her advice was always heart-felt and sincere -- she wouldn't mince words or say what she thought you wanted to hear. She would tell you exactly how she saw it, whether you wanted to hear it or not.

Roxy had a huge impact on my life as "grandma" to my kids. She really didn't like the idea of being a grandma... she wanted to go by "Aunt Roxy". It was an age thing. Considering she was only around 40 when I had Chelsie, and she had two young boys of her own, she definitly did not feel ready for the grandmotherly roll. But once the roll sank in, she mastered it and she will always be known as "Grandma Roxy" in our home.

Chelsie and Roxy had a very close bond. If it wasn't for Roxy, I wouldn't have video of Chelsie as a baby. She made a croop tent for Chelsie when she was sick with a terrible cough. She gave Chelsie her first ride on a horse and later even GAVE Chelsie her dearest horse, Buck. I'm sad that Dallas didn't get more of an opportunity to spend time with Roxy and get to know the wonderful Grandma she had become to my kids.

Roxy brought many other special people into our lives. Her two boys, Nathan and Seth, her sisters, Becky, Dawna, and Pamm, and their children were very welcoming to my family throughout her life and even after she died. I was so grateful that they included the kids and I in the spreading of Roxy's ashes.

I am so thankful that she invited Chelsie and I to visit her one last time a few weeks before she left this world. I am so honored that she chose to have us close to her in the end. Roxy fought that cancer so hard. She did everything they told her to do, and more. I despise it for taking her out of mine and my kids lives. I am indebted to Roxy for so many happy memories. My tree is still covered with Roxy, even if it is just one less this morning, thanks to the big, stupid dog who is once again sprawled out on the couch without a care in the world. Guess that's how Roxy would have wanted it.