My son-in-law Kevin invited me to Seattle to surprise my son Michael at his dance recital.  I drove down Friday and traffic wasn’t too bad.  The few stops on the freeway allowed me to see the Blue Angles flying overhead in formation and doing stunts.  I arrived at their condo the same time as Keven’s mother Jo-Ann arrived, so we had time to visit before Kevin arrived home.  Jo-Ann, Kevin, and I headed out to dinner before Michael’s performance.  Michael came out to the lobby before the performance began and was pleasantly surprised, I was there and kept hugging me.  His group dance was fun, and I was so proud of him doing something he had been wanting to do.  Another accomplishment. 

Another surprise was that Clara, the owner of Argyle Salon in Bellingham saw me and came to say hello.  Her daughter was also performing in a more advanced dance group that night.  Her daughter is beautiful and talented and made the performance even more special.

 Middle school Valentine's dance, and my oldest son was excited to go.  He didn’t want his dad to chaperone, but he did anyway.  I was sick and asked my ex to stay home with our other two children and me.  He refused to.  I was in so much pain but couldn’t leave my kids alone, and this was the age before cell phones, although I doubt my ex would have come home if I had been able to call.

When my son and ex finally returned home.  I asked him to take me to the emergency room, and he refused.  He said he would stay home with the kids and I could drive myself.

 I thought maybe I had a kidney infection since my mom and one of my sisters had kidney stones.  The first thing I was told was I needed to be checked for STD’s.  I told them I was married, and they said it was procedure.  No kidney infection, no STD, no reason found for the extreme pain.  I was sent home and told to check with my primary doctor.

 What I discovered in hidden notes between my ex, who was a schoolteacher, and his principal was that they were having an affair.  One of her notes said I would rather fuck you than dance with you.  But she had danced with him the night I was sick in plain view of other teachers, parents, and students, and no one knew what they were doing.

 The person who is supposed to love you picks up their handgun, removes the bullets, and then hands them to you and says put them somewhere safe so I won't find them and do something bad.   You understand the threat.  The box with the remaining bullets is sitting in a drawer a few feet away.  This is intimidation meant to control you and scare you into doing what they want or else.

 Being in an abusive relationship is like a fly caught in a spider’s web.  It is even more distressing when there are children involved, whom you are trying to protect.  When the spider is hiding behind a mask, and everyone thinks they are the good guy, and no one knows what goes on behind closed doors.  Physical violence, mental abuse, threats against not just you, but if you don’t behave a certain way, your children will be in harm's way.  Who do you trust to open up to?  When the dam burst, and the 911 call is made, one of the officers responding tells you to just do what your abuser tells you to do, and everything will be ok.  Now what?  I was beaten but not broken.  I fought back.  I lost many court battles because I didn’t look like a victim, and the ex played the part.  I would rather be the survivor and learn to live again without being controlled. Seeing my children free from the narcissist parent.  I lost material things and money, but I had my children.  Even more surprising was when coworkers started to find out I was getting a divorce, they told me they never liked my ex but kept quiet because of me and my children. 

Not everyone will find a way out of an abusive relationship.  Don’t judge because you don’t know how hard it is to survive inside the nightmare.  The threats, the violence, and the mind games weigh heavily on those going through it.  

 After I married, moved away from my parents, and was settled into our new home, my mother gave me several divisions of her favorite daylily.  I have nurtured and babied those few daylilies.  I have divided them and given them to nieces who have successfully grown them in their gardens.  I don’t know the variety of this daylily, so I told my husband I am just going to call it Clella’s Jewel after my mom.  I have had my plants for twenty-seven years, and they always bring me joy.

I have also planted black hollyhock seeds that came from my mother’s garden.  They are biennial, and this year one came up and bloomed.  My mom and I always loved hollyhocks, and once in a while, we would have one that grew more like a small tree than a flower stalk.

The geraniums remind me of my grandma Chloe.  When we first moved to California, my grandparents were renting a small cottage.  There were three cottages on each side of the walkway, ending with a gazebo with a channel of water surrounding it and geraniums planted around it.  They have that certain unique fragrance, and they always remind me of my grandmother.

I have a Liquidambar tree planted in the backyard that was a gift in remembrance of my father.  The Rose of Sharron shares the name of my oldest sister.  My dogwood tree reminds me of faith, and the Magnolia tree is for my husband’s love of New Orleans. 

These are only a few of my favorites. 

 

July 1th 2026

I have ancestors who fought in the Revolutionary War, more than one.  I have not pursued the Daughters of the American Revolution; I don’t need a piece of paper to certify them.  I can trace them on Ancestry through my mother's family and I know them by the family names.  They fought for American freedom for all.  They were children of immigrants, as all non-Native Americans are.  I am proud of their sacrifice and courage.  May the constitution they fought for continue to be the foundation of America.

 Lady in Red

On our first Valentine's Day, my husband Larry took me to Anacortes to a hotel for dinner and a night away from home.  I surprised him with a form-fitted  long red satin dress with spaghetti straps.  We walked down the sweeping grand staircase with people turning heads at us.  Such a romantic thing to do, but the best was yet to come.  The next morning, as we were headed home in his red Mustang convertible, the song Lady In Red came on the radio.  Larry pulled the car over to the curb, got out, opened my door, and pulled me into his arms to dance on the sidewalk with music blasting.  

 My father never knew his relatives on his dad’s side of the family because my grandfather for some unknown reason would never say who his parents were.  Several times my dad met someone with the same last name and he would ask trying to find that missing connection to his family history.   My dad died never knowing the history behind his name. 

Before covid my husband Larry Marrs bought me an Ancestry DNA kit to see if I could find answers.  It was slow trying to figure out all those hints on Ancestry.  During covid I spent hours researching, asking questions of strangers with my maiden name, trying to figure out our family tree. 

A wonderful group on FB answered one of my questions and that led me down another path.  I thought I had found my great-grandfather when a newfound cousin told me that was a great uncle and gave me the name of my great-grandfather that I had been looking for. 

Then the search began for my great-grandmother, which was much harder, but all those days sheltered at home that became my goal.  Yes, I found her, and it made me cry.  All I really wanted to do was tell my dad who they were, and I wanted to scream at my grandfather, who kept secrets. 

I found a cousin along the way who shared so much family history, other cousins popped up in a private group and it was fun to see how we were related.  One cousin shared a photo of my great grandmother and again I cried.  My father grew up surrounded by cousins that he never knew.  My circle of family has grown with new cousins that I am thankful for.

 When my mother was born women were not allowed to vote.  My parents were adamant that I register to vote when I turned 18.  They didn’t tell me what party to register with and they didn’t tell me who they were registered as.  I registered as a Democrat and found out they were registered Republicans.    When they first moved to California, like me they had no idea so they registered as Republicans, but they always voted for who they thought was the best candidate for each office, not a blanket party ticket.  Before the 2016 election, my mom and I talked about Hillary Clinton and the one who shall not be named.  My mother was not a fan of either candidate, but she said she would vote for the best candidate, and that was Hillary Clinton because she was a woman and was better than the other candidate who she could not stand.  I voted for Kamala Harris because the man running has little regard for women’s rights, human rights, or religious rights.

 I have a lot to be thankful for this year:  Lunch with the ladies is always fun.  50 degrees on a beach in Carmel Ca is warmer than 50 degrees in WA.  Playing in the sand with the grandkids is priceless.  Spending an evening celebrating my younger son Michael's birthday with family and his friends is always a treasure.  Having a husband who sends anniversary flowers across the country when you can’t celebrate together.  When lightning hit my daughter Kelly’s house and two gas lines in the house are punctured but doesn’t blow up you know God has a plan for your grandsons and yourself.  Camping out in an upscale hotel for two weeks, yes I got the grandkids and the parents got a break.  That my daughter Kelly could sleep in a hard plastic chair for hours and make me laugh while enduring cold feet.  Thankful to be in the right place at the right time.  When my son Michael rescues me from the airport and drives me two hours home the next day.  Thankfully we have great health insurance, Kaiser hotline, and two new doctors.  Blessed to have a new puppy Beau in the house who is relaxed, calm, and just wants to cuddle but growing fast.  Glad that Larry’s son Mike could deliver Beau to us from Montana.   Grateful to have Larry’s daughter Kim spend a few days.  Round two of grandma time with carpool, puppies, school fieldtrips, and Chapel in CA., then carpool, football, and jitsu classes, in AL. Racking up the air miles on Alaska, Delta, and American.  Thank you to  James and Nicole who made multiple trips to the airport on my crazy flying schedule.  Thankful for all the healthcare workers who have touched the lives of my family.  Thankful for good friends, church, and Refuge Service. Blessed to have a loving husband Larry, six wonderful kids: James, Nicole, Michael, Kevin, Kelly, Kyle, and four amazing grandkids.

Thank you God.

 I was sitting in the Seattle airport Monday night when a woman walked through and asked that everyone stand and clap for a group of Honor Flight Veterans who were on their way to Washington DC.  Everyone immediately rose and when the first veteran appeared everyone began smiling, clapping, and saluting.  Every veteran was escorted by a service member, some walked slowly, some were in wheelchairs, some seemed a bit dazed to be celebrated, and some saluted back.  No one moved in the terminal until the procession passed.  That six-hour layover before the last leg of my flight home was worth it to experience a chance to honor these veterans.

 Our LG refrigerator quit working after 10 years.   We bought a Whirlpool side by side and only had to wait 5 days to have it delivered.  Now the nightmare begins.  It quit after a week…well sometimes the freezer works and the frig maintains a 68-degree temp occasionally dropping lower but not for long.  Home Depot says you only have 48 hours to figure out something doesn’t work for them to replace or refund so go talk to Whirlpool.  Whirlpool after 1 ½ on the phone says we will call you in 48 hours.  72 hours later I get an automated response saying they have no tech available to look at the frig and I can find my own repair person and pay out of pocket, and they will reimburse $100 for repair call and pay for the parts.  Whirlpool warranty says they will fix or replace…ha ha…don’t believe their written word. We have now filed a complaint with the state consumer protection agency. 

Christmas Caroling Memories

Singing Christmas carols in church last night brought back wonderful memories. When I was in elementary school my dad and several other parents took a group of kids from the church Christmas caroling. We would drive to someone’s home and sing two or three songs and then drive to the next house. My dad had one of those deep voices and sometimes sang in the choir. Sadly, I did not inherit any musical talents but at the time I did not know that the only thing that mattered was being with my dad and forever I will hold that memory in my heart.

Cherished, Broken, Glued, Found, Restored, Cherished

 A number of years ago I was at an estate sale at the end of the day.  I saw two blue and white dog figurines on the mantel.  When I picked them up I saw they had been broken and glued back together.  They spoke to me and were only a dollar for the pair.

One of the owners approached me and told me the story of these little dogs.  She said her parents were from Germany and they were some of the few things hey had brought with them when moving to America. 

When World War II broke out they were afraid that if their friends knew the figurines were from Germany they would think they were German sympathizers.  They were afraid just hiding them away would not be enough so they broke them, but then could not bear to dump the broken pieces, so they put them in a drawer hidden away.

Years after the war, they glued the little dogs back together and put them back on the mantel.  So sad that no one in the family knowing the history of these precious little dogs did not want to keep them, so I bought them.

My husband wrote the whole story up and we listed them on eBay with photos of the markings on the bottom and a clear understanding that they were broken and glued.  A dealer out of Los Angeles bought them for twenty dollars.  I was happy to sell them; he had the story of their history to pass on and I am sure he would restore them properly and they would be worth much more than he paid for them.

Even the broken can be mended, the history lives on, someone else will enjoy their beauty and love them as the original owners did.

Jesus loves the little children

Jesus loves the little children
All the children of the world
Red, brown, yellow
Black and white
They are precious in His sight
Jesus loves the little children
Of the world

Jesus died for all the children
All the children of the world
Red, brown, yellow
Black and white
They are precious in His sight
Jesus died for all the children
Of the world.

Jesus rose for all the children
All the children of the world
Red, brown, yellow
Black and white
They are precious in His sight
Jesus rose for all the children
Of the world

Words by C. Herbert Woolston, music by George F. Root

A New Awareness

A lovely day at the movie theater with our two grandchildren.  The littlest found it hard to sit still so I took him for a walk in the mall to burn off a little energy.  About halfway down the mall I suddenly began looking to see where an exit door was or a service entrance.  I looked at people with backpacks as I held the little one's hand and wondered how I would keep him safe if a person began shooting in the mall. 

I raised three children, sometimes it seemed like dragging them, when it was really me nagging, cajoling, bribing them to get errands done.  In and out of malls, Target, grocery stores, discount centers and never did I worry about a shooter.  I worried if I was going to pull my hair out or who might be in time out when we got home if they didn’t stop terrorizing each other.

With my oldest grandson, we have been in many of those same places I took my kids to and never worried about a shooter.  After three mass shootings in a week, I was looking around that mall differently than I would have a week prior.

I don’t want to worry about every angry person who walks by me.  I don’t want to wonder what is in that heavy backpack.  I don’t want to live like this, but this is a new reality.  I am not going to stay home and be a hermit, but I am going to be more aware of where I am and what my options are. 

I pray that those who are in power and can make changes will look at the families and friends of those who have lost a loved one and grieve with them, have sympathy for their pain, and if they have ever lost a loved one for any reason then to feel empathy, and try to prevent another family from the unthinkable.

Ponca City Oklahoma Dust Storm

We lived in Ponca City Oklahoma for four years when I was very young.  My mom said that when I was about five years old, my dad who was a training union teacher at First Baptist Church along with my mother and several other Sunday school teachers took a group of eleven to twelve year old’s to a farm outside of town for a picnic.

Near the end of the day, after everyone had eaten hotdogs and cleaned up, the wind began to pick up.  The teachers loaded everyone into the trucks and quickly drove to the farmer’s barn to take cover.  My mom said the dust storm was terrible and lasted for a very long time.  They had no way of telling the parents waiting at the church to pick up their children that they had taken cover from the dust storm and could not see to drive.

When the weather cleared they finally were able to drive back into town and they delivered the children to their parents and then we drove home to discover that the windows had all been left open to help cool the house down.  Mom said our home was covered in dust and dirt.  It was late and my father had to work the next day but all the beds had to be stripped, remade, and the floors swept. 

One closet in the house faced east and the dust and dirt had not penetrated the closed door.   What a blessing for clean bed linens.  Mom said it took days to clean all the nooks and crannies to make our home livable again. 

I have no memory of this happening but always enjoyed hearing stories and events my mother shared with us. 

Clella Jewel Melton Breshears of Concord CA, age 100, passed away peacefully following a short illness on June 30, 2017.  She was born in Ozark Missouri on June 10th, 1917, to Isham Melton and Maggie Miama Dye Melton.  She married Harry O’Neal Breshears on December 24th, 1938. 

Clella was first and foremost a loving wife and mother.  She was an avid gardener and enjoyed warm days spent in the garden.  Her family will always treasure memories of family dinners, special desserts, and time spent together.  Her quilts, potholders, tea towel dresses, and various other items she made for family will be remembered as lovingly crafted with her hands.

Clella was always active in the churches they attended, serving in the children’s nursery, and helping with and organizing the kitchen fellowship committees, most recently at Bethel Baptist Church in Concord, CA.  She attended Sunday School classes and Sunday services when she was able.

Clella was preceded in death by her husband Harry O’Neal Breshears, daughters Margaret Jean Breshears, and Sharron Sue Breshears Hill.  She is survived by her son, Jerry Breshears (wife Laura) of Rogers, AR, daughter, Mary Chole Breshears Perez of Martinez, CA, daughter, Billie Jo Breshears Marrs (husband Larry) of Ferndale, WA, son-in-law Jerry Hill of Cabot, AR and grandchildren Bryon, Charles, David, Jaimie, Michael, Kimberli, James, Michael, and Kelly; several great-grandchildren and many loving nieces and nephews.

In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made in the name of Clella Breshears to Bethel Baptist Church, 3578 Clayton Rd, Concord, CA 94519 or to Hospice EastBay, 3470 Buskirk Avenue Pleasant Hill 94523.

Viewing will be at Oakmont Memorial Park in Lafayette, CA between 4PM and 7PM on Friday July 7th.  Services will be Saturday, July 8th at 10AM, Bethel Baptist Church and immediately following the service there will a fellowship lunch at the church.  Interment will be at Oakmont after the service for family and any friends who wish to attend.

Today my sweet husband Larry will hold his mother's funeral service and have her ashes interred next to his father.  He was a constant source of comfort for her as she struggled with Alzheimer's.
Obituary for Norma C. Marrs

Norma Marrs, age 98, passed away peacefully, following a stroke and surrounded by family, at Hospice House in Bellingham on Thursday, January 12, 2017. She was born February 22, 1918 in Aberdeen, WA to Harper and Anna Coons.

She married H. Wayne Marrs on December 18, 1938. Norma attended Grays Harbor College and later in life attended Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, TX. Norma was involved in Christian education with several Episcopal Parishes in Utah, Louisiana, Texas, and Washington and with the National Episcopal Church where she provided leadership for church school curricula development. She was actively involved for many years as a staff member or volunteer with Christian Education and several guilds at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Bellingham. She also served with St. Andrews Episcopal Church in Aberdeen, WA. Norma was passionate about serving others any way she could; she was a long-time member of P.E.O.; was an accomplished water color artist, and a gourmet cook.

She was preceded in death by her husband the Rev. H. Wayne Marrs and grandson Jon Marrs. She is survived by her sons Larry (wife Billie) Marrs of Bellingham and Jim (wife Jeanne) Marrs of Price, Utah; grandchildren Mike, Kim, Kelly, Jerry and Jeff, and step-grandchildren James, Kelly and Michael; sister Betty and niece Vicki; and many other loving relatives and friends.

A Burial Eucharist will be held at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church on Thursday, January 26th at 10 AM. Reception following. Memorial donations may be made to St. Paul’s Episcopal Church Alms Ministry at 2117 Walnut St, Bellingham, WA, 98225 or to Whatcom Hospice at 2806 Douglas Ave, Bellingham, WA 98225.