Last Wishes... what's yours?

Florian looked out the window down our long driveway. Off in the distance, a glint of white popped up, then disappeared. “Who is that coming for a visit?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

I stepped outside, perched on the deck, and stood there waiting and watching.

Our ranch sits at 6,000’ elevation. We have a 2-mile climb up to our home. It is a gentle climb, not steep, but it is winding and bumpy. We usually hear a vehicle come up our driveway before we can see it, then we get pops of color through the juniper trees and switchbacks. Previous owners allegedly said, if someone commits to coming up your driveway it is because they really want to see you. So this must be important.

A man stepped out of his white pick-up truck and politely asked, “is Florian around?” His truck advertised Sand & Gravel on the door so it was obvious he was here to chat with my husband, the excavator. After all, they are in the same trade profession. We soon found out there was a death in the community… someone who is woven into the history of our ranch.

Let’s back up several months to a similar beginning. A neighbor drove up our long and twisted driveway to greet Florian in person. This was a neighbor we know and respect, but is often busy running his own operations so we were surprised to see him. He came to request support in honoring a man’s last wishes… to have his ashes spread on our ranch. This man was involved in constructing some of the buildings on our ranch, one of which is the silo we repurposed for the guinea fowl. The following Sunday, a group of Mennonite men came up our driveway wearing their Sunday’s best. Florian and I were outside working on the construction of our greenhouse while we peripherally witnessed a beautiful funeral.

For context, one of the hillsides on our ranch overlooks most of our pastures and homesite. The previous owners erected a 15’ high cross on this magnificent slope. It is a massive cross that bears a jewish star and another cross made of horseshoes closer to the ground. You cannot miss its stature. We have been told that both animals and people have been laid to rest there.

For the first few years of living here, creating a relationship with this hillside was not a priority. There were tons of rocks strewn about making it difficult to traverse. Not to mention, when we moved here the cross had broken Christmas lights dangling from it, and random bits of wire and trash were scattered here and there. We avoided this hillside, but after witnessing this beautiful Mennonite funeral we shifted our perception and we were inspired to transform this hillside into something more. We heard the calling and answered.

Since then we have spent some time cleaning this area up. The girls filled in the prairie dog holes, and we laid rocks in a semi-circle to create a sense of sanctity. I purchased a variety of native wildflower seeds to sow on this hillside as a symbol of joy, rejuvenation, and to honor the various seasons of life. We were inspired to incorporate a statue of Mother Mary to bring forth her energy to nourish and care for all who come to this hillside, past and present, alive or otherwise. Admittedly, I have gone up there and sat on this hillside and felt tremendous emotions and support. This is now a place I retreat to when I am sifting through challenges and need the sense of nourishment and peace this hillside now provides.

a close up of Mother Mary. For us, a maternal symbol of compassion, humility, boundless love, and the Divine.

The man driving the white pickup truck labeled Best Sand & Gravel was the son of the previous owner. He approached us with bravery, kindness, and vulnerability. Supporting one of his mother's final wishes, to scatter her ashes here, felt right to us. We were hoping it might provide closure in some unknown way for reasons we couldn't fully understand.

She was an elder in this community. A gun-toting, God-loving, brusque horse woman. She was a Botanist who loved trees and flowers. She was a legend in my mind too and I only met her once. She was a powerhouse back then at age 80. We know how much she loved this land, and her husband was also buried under this cross so we hope their souls are peaceful and fully rested from this life.

In spring, I suspect many of the seeded wildflowers will come and go, some will thrive and others will wither under the harsh elements. Like humans, we adapt and work to survive, and sometimes we too wither under the pressure.

Don’t make your wishes your last…What do you wish for now? It’s time to listen and respond to the whisper. Listen to the calling and may your own inner wildflowers flourish and thrive within the long bumpy road of your life.

—If you would like support with this, please reach out and accept a free one hour session with me.

I often ponder why people would choose to be buried at our ranch. People who never lived here, were merely visitors, knew the owners at some point, or occasionally helped out here and there on this land. I’ve come to the conclusion that our ranch provides a sanctuary for the mind, body, and soul. Despite the forward challenges Florian and I have wrestled with, we remain fully committed to being good stewards of this property. Everyday we wake up, we are gifted with its presence and seasonal happenings. This ranch is unique, it is essentially unscarred by development with no interference from power lines, smart meters, cellphone towers, or the noise of modern day life. The silence is boundless at times. It is incredibly peaceful here which creates this sense of being held by the land. I trust that other folks feel this too, this natural reset when they arrive… and this is what I believe the human psyche aims to recall when the final steps of life are afoot;

boundless silence, peace, and rest.

Amen.