Luella Terrill (1918 - 2015)My wife's dear grandmother. This was taken on her 97th birthday

     Luella Terrill (1918-2015)

     I really didn't know Luella Terrill really well. She is my wife's grandma, and I saw her on occasion. Usually when I went out to visit my wife's parents, and then that was only if she happened to be there that day. It didn't happen often. We would enter the doorway to Ron and Darlene Terrill's home and immediately see the walker and know she was there. It was a definite treat for my wife to see her, as she was getting up there in age. The first time I had ever met her (that I recall) was at our wedding. My new wife and I decided to make a contest to seek out the couple that had been married the longest and have that couple take to the dance floor. Year-by-year, the couples sat down until Francis and Luella Terrill were left. They had been married 58 years. The prize to the contest was a solo dance to the tune of Fred Astaire's Cheek to Cheek. Unfortunately, due to their health, they were not able to dance, but we did play the song in their honor. 

     Luella was married to Francis for 61 years when a tragedy struck. Her husband was out in the field on the tractor when an accident claimed his life, in 2009. It was a huge blow to their longevity of union and one that resulted in many changes thereafter. In time, Luella went to live in a senior retirement home. She seemed to like it there, and I got to see her a couple of times while she resided there; both times having been her birthday. This photo was taken at her 97th birthday party. Many friends and family members all came to celebrate her life and their relationship with her. She talked and laughed and had a great time. She was very aware of everything around her, and her disposition was clear and sound. I didn't know that this would be the last birthday party I would attend with her. 

    As I am writing this, the family is grieving the loss of their mother, sister, grandmother. A sadness is draped over the family. Luella passed away on June 21, 2015. She was never in any pain, although she did suffer from a bad heart most of her life. She passed on in the company of her family after having lived a full life. Ninety-seven years old is quite an accomplishment in and of itself. She had presence of mind right up until the very end, and had everything in order for the day she left this world. 

     When I remember Luella, I remember a frail, little lady with strength in wit, communication,  & memories. I spoke with her briefly during her 96th birthday party, about a handmade doll that lay on her bed. I asked about its beginnings. How had she come into possession of this unique doll. She sat with me for about a half hour and explained how it had changed hands, and she ultimately ended up with it. It wasn't a boring story in the least. She retained that memory and was able to tell her story to me,...at 96 years old. She went back to the party and had a grand old time. That was the most I had ever spoken to her, and how I became fully aware at her strength.

     I didn't see strength in her frail body. She, afterall, had to use a walker to get around and hearing aids to hear. No, I saw her strength in those around her. Her kids that she raised and how they are so independent now. How they have raised kids of their own and passed her strength and resolve into them. I saw strength in her presence of mind; her ability to recall stories or carry on a conversation, even in old age. I looked at her wrinkles and knew full well that she earned every one of them, and she wore them so well. Luella was a beacon of strength in my opinion, and I only wish I had gotten to know her better. Perhaps I don't see her the same as those that did know her better, but in the brief amount of time I knew her, this is what I witnessed. Despite our infrequent meetings and our seldom conversations, I admire her for her strength.

     Luella was laid to rest on Wednesday, June 24, 2015. May she rest in eternal peace.

     The late afternoon was one filled with remembrance of a dear soul I had the honor to have met during her life. I was on my way to a visitation for an old, dear friend from my school days. The funeral home was in Grass Lake, Michigan. From the moment I had learned of the revised visitation and its location, I planned to do a therapy session afterwards with my camera. Shooting landscapes and nature has become a very soothing hobby. My spirit calms down and any anxiety or stress I had felt throughout the day melts away with each shutter snap.

     I showed up at the funeral home and found old friends. All of those friends were either school-mates or teachers and/or mentors. We caught up on lost time, all-the-while remembering a common friend. We made it a point to talk with each other about a lot of different subject. We learned what we all went on to do with our lives, as well as how we were doing as we waded through life. Our kids, our schools, our families, and our successes; we had a lot to talk about. Of those I spoke with, most were related to the deceased, and although their hearts were broken, we enjoyed a great conversation. We remembered her life, the impact she made, and our interactions with her. She was a great lady that positively influenced a lot of people, both young and old. Remembering our friendship throughout high school as she was a role model for all of the students she had encountered. She was an active participant in the church that was associated with the school and everyone had the utmost respect for her. Peggy Butterfield had lived a long and successful life.

     When I noticed the sun was getting low, I said my goodbyes and headed out to Grass Lake. I set up my tripod on the edge of the lake, mounted the camera and awaited for the sun to cast its reflection on the face of the water. The streak of golden sunset on the water's face, as it began setting, was a sight to behold. The end of the day was imminent and the final show of beauty was memorable. I suppose that our lives, through memories, begin to be reflected upon by those around us. On a beautiful life, those reflections can glow through conversations of remembrance. We can literally and subconsciously visualize the life that is about to end or just has ended. Like this sunset, a beautiful end, and more memories captured to be talked about for years to come.

Fungus CelebrityA purple mushroom makes a bold appearance through the dead leaves.

     This particular picture has a humble beginning, not something sought after or expected, but it was forewarned. 

     A friend of mine, Jeff Windham, is a zealot when it comes to bettering himself. He sets goals for himself that only baffles me. He is the all-around outdoor activity major. Hiking, camping, jogg...(I'm kidding, Jeff) and running. I'm not a runner, but I enjoy a casual hike and some camping. On this particular day, Jeff, my son, and I had set out on a casual hike at the Waterloo Recreational Area in Jackson, Michigan, near Portage Lake. It's considered casual because I tend to take my camera with me, and there are a few stops along the way that cause everyone to stop and wait for me.

     About three minutes into the hike, we passed some other hikers that were headed out of the woods. They noticed the camera I was carrying, and then said to be on the lookout for a tiny purple mushroom on the left side of the trail. They said that if we were looking for it, we would see it plain as day, but it's easy to miss because of its size. We departed ways, and then kept a lookout for the infamous purple mushroom. After a little while, we thought we must have missed it, because we hadn't found the fungus in about 3/4 mile.

     We stopped looking, but I was still looking for other shots along the trail; stopping here, for a tent worm nest, and there, for a branch with a crazy vine creeping around it. A little farther in, under some newly green foliage, tucked into last autumn's leaves that still blanketed the ground, stood a tiny, purple mushroom. It wasn't at all what I imagined. It appeared to have a layer of slime on it, making it really shiny, and seemingly wet. It was dry to the touch, and the brightest purple in a otherwise brown-coated wood. We spent several minutes in this one spot. Several pictures were taken, in a numerous amount of angles. I used one camera to capture details and another to capture the overall picture of its location and size. 

     This picture really shows what we saw that day. The miracle of regeneration as winter faded away, and life flooded in. The color alone was a step-stopper. It didn't seem real, and I hadn't ever heard of a bright, slimy, purple mushroom before, but there it was. The top was about the size of a fifty-cent piece, and the color was magnificent. It was a good day to be in the woods, exploring nature while in the company of a good friend and my son. It's a memory that won't fade, and a picture to ensure we never forget.