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Upon Their Hands They Will Carry you
Page 47

She Ran Calling Wildfire

Artist: Michael Martin Murphey Lyrics

Song: Wildfire Lyrics

She comes down from Yellow Mountain
On a dark, flat land she rides
On a pony she named Wildfire
With a whirlwind by her side
On a cold Nebraska night

Oh, they say she died one winter
When there came a killing frost
And the pony she named Wildfire
Busted down its stall
In a blizzard he was lost She ran calling Wildfire

My pregnancy was a slipping back and forth between struggling to maintain my health and the sorrow to know I was still facing the surgeon’s knife once more. Grandmother’s home housed us and we struggled financially.

There was a loud WHOMP, thumping sound as the heavy old tree truck landed exactly in the place where Rodney had planned for it to come down. He couldn’t work a nine to five job because I was partly down, advised by my doctor to stay off my feet, as much as possible. Rodney has a daughter in a wheel chair and a son in grade school. There were clothes to wash, dishes to wash, runs to be made to their schools, the whole load of it was on his shoulders.

The only way he can take care of his family and support us too was by picking up odd jobs. My own father never criticized but he couldn’t understand why I was on the couch all the time. It worried him and no way were we going to add to his anxiety with the total truth. For the moment he was grieved to think he raised a lazy daughter.

My help was not much but I tagged along with Rodney on his jobs a lot of the time. The fear of him on his back, alone, with a heavy limb coming down on his head made me afraid.

"I can’t do anything but at least I call for help." I thought to myself.

All the work with Rhonda was paying off in subtle ways almost too invisible to see. The children loved her, especially her cousin, Kemy. It was a joy to see the two, one in a wheelchair, tearing down a hill, or running to the park with Kemy’s dogs Pogo and Sienna.

Sienna's tongue out of the corner of her mouth, loping along side their mistress was a picture. She was a gorgeous red Irish Setter of distinctive origin, papers and all. Pogo was a bit of fluff usually looking like a powder puff from the hair dryer.

Occasionally Sienna tired and had to be allowed to sit on Rhonda’s lap in the wheelchair as Kemy pushed them both.

"Sienna has bad breath," Rhonda often giggled when this happened.

The strength of character Kemy was building with her caring for her disabled cousin came through many years later when she became a mature, responsible, loving mother. And so the stage was set. How many children came under Rhonda’s tutoring over the years? Her learned skills were from a place higher than the common. She had the finest of teachers herself and she was easily able to pass this learning on to any sweet child caught in a sad circumstance and who came under her protection for a time.

Presently, there was no way of knowing this of the future. We just went through the days, loving each other, the children, our community, and even branched out a bit to our tribe.

In the shower I hummed the tune of Michael Murphey’s lyrics to Wildfire and wept quietly while I entreated my Higher Power, Jehovah, to please spare my life in the days to come ahead.

Don’t make your trip to Oklahoma City at the last minute, my doctor in Dallas wisely advised me. December 17, could be in the middle of a blizzard. He knew of what he spoke and we fled Ponca City just ahead of the heaviest of an ice storm to check into the Community Hospital at Oklahoma City.

Mother was with us. She kept the children, Mark and Rhonda in a motel and Rodney took me to the hospital. The ice on the roads and sidewalks was like Oklahoma storms often happen. First comes the snow only to melt during a warm sunny day and again freeze at night to make every surface a slick ice skating rink adventure. To walk across the hospital parking lot saw Rodney holding me close to him as we took baby steps to keep from slipping.

Last thing I needed was a fall.

Lights overhead glistened on the ice and shown like sparkles from a jewel out of the darkness of night. We concentrated on walking on impossible torturous surfaces. This phenomena and beauty of nature wasn’t even enjoyed because our goal and purpose was too real and just ahead of us.

Who knows the ways of our bodies. There was a reconstruction work going on in the hospital. A heavy odor of some product, maybe glue for the tile, assailed our breathing. No sooner was I in the hospital bed when my water broke.

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