A Journey by Train

 

There is something about riding a train that seems to capture the imagination, listening to the sound of the wheels clacking over the rails, the gentle rhythm of the rocking cars, and hearing the horn calling its warning as it passes through the countryside. So when it was time to make another journey back to Wisconsin we decided to take a train rather than fly.  How much less stressful it was, no rush to drive down to the airport which is more than an hour away, no worries of finding a place to leave the car and getting into the terminal more than two hours ahead to check in and go through all the hoops necessary to board the plane, no worry about late flights and missed connections.

The train station is just a few miles from our home so we were able to have a leisurely day before boarding at the end of the day.

 

Our sleeping room was small, just two seats that fold down into a bed and a top bunk that folded down at night but it was private and quiet.  All we had to do for the next two days was relax, go to meals, read and look out the window and reflect.  It was perfect. And when we wanted a change we could go to the observation car and enjoy a panoramic view of the country passing by.

It might be springtime at home but much of the countryside was encased in frozen ice and snow.  After an early breakfast and morning coffee we enjoyed the beautiful scenery of the Glacier National Park located in the Rocky Mountains of Montana.

Eventually we left the mountains behind and headed across the plains, gazing at the farms as they passed by our window.  This is wheat country and there were large grain elevators at every train stop.  The land look cold and a bit forbidding.  Even the trees looked so barren it was hard to think that in a few  more weeks they will begin to return to life after the long winter's rest.

Our second day found us arriving in at the St. Paul train station in Minnesota.  It was so cold the Mighty Mississippi was frozen over.  Brrr!!!!  They told us it was -40 degrees with the wind chill!

Coming into St. Paul, MN

A view of St. Paul from the train station

After a short break in St. Paul it was time to continue on our way into Wisconsin.  We traveled along the frozen Mississippi. into the state of Wisconsin.

Along the Mississippi

The town of La Crosse, WI

Near the Wisconsin Dells

After two days and nights on the train we arrived at our destination, Milwaukee, WI.  We felt gratefully refreshed and ready to face our final goodbys which were waiting for us at the end of this journey.  This is where we will leave you.  There is more to share but that will wait for another day and so we bid you, Adieu.

A Day of Remembrance

 I just returned from a trip to Wisconsin in order to celebrate the life of my baby brother who passed away two weeks ago after a valiant and faith-filled fight with cancer.  I am sharing this for those friends and family who so loved Phil and were unable to be a part of his day of remembrance. 

Phil was a cute mischievous boy who grew up to be a generous man filled with humor, grace and a deep faith in Christ the Lord.  He loved his wife, his children, his friends and especially his God.  He died well, sharing with any and all his deep belief that even in the midst of his suffering, God had a plan for him and for his family.

He loved music and books, sports and travel.  On the day of his memorial his family put together a table filled with things that reminded them of who Phil was.

In the midst of Packer country, Phil was a die-hard Viking fan.  On this day every Packer was a Viking.  His brother-in-law, Sam, made special handkerchiefs for the guys to wear in their pockets.  Even his grandson wore purple for his Papa.

He loved the beach, especially going down to Florida.  He had a thing for wearing puka shells and had five sets.  He gave one set to each of his children before he passed away and the girls all wore them in honor of him.

As a young man Phil had a beautiful head of hair.  All of us remember him constantly combing it.  As it got thinner and thinner his family remembers him carefully combing what was left and spraying it with hairspray.  That never changed. 

Phil's family loved playing games together.  When we came to visit he was still playing games with his family and that continued up until a few days before he was gone.  He also loved the outdoors, camping and fishing every summer.  His expertise in casting a line was legend with his family and friends.  Everyone remembered how his line usually ended up wrapped around a branch and he would have to untangle it before he could catch anything.  That however, never stopped him from enjoying himself.

There were so many who came to say goodby and remember Phil.  For more than two and one half hours before the service began people waited in line to pay their respect, love and support for Phil, his wife and his children.  His wife, laughed, cried and remembered with each one for as long as they each wanted to share.  Most of the time there were so many people around the family I couldn't get a picture.  I took these during a short lull but even then, someone was always there.

 Phil's wife Donna with their son, Jordan  beside her

 Phil's youngest daughter, Megan and Jordan's girlfriend, Morgan

 Donna, Jordan & Morgan

 Daughter Brittney (sitting) and husband Andre with Megan above and daughter Ericka below

When the service started the church was filled. His pastor shared the things Phil had shared with 
him in the last days of his life, of his faith, his love for his family, and the importance that all of us take time to share our love with one another every day while we can.  His brother-in law, Brian shared how Phil had led him to Christ as a teenager and how Phil had mentored him. 

Phil never thought that he had made that much difference in his life but Brian shared how his faith like a mustard seed had grown into a tree that had influenced the lives of more than he could have imagined. 

 

I will miss my little brother as will many many others.  He is with Jesus now.  But he will never be forgotten and the faith he shared with his family and friends will be passed on for generations to come.  

Mission San Luis Rey

Last year was one where we did a lot of traveling including 10 days in Southern California reliving memories in the place where we both grew up.  One of the places we stopped to visit was the Mission San Luis Rey.  Founded in 1798, it was one of 21 missions built by the Spaniards all up and down the coast of California. When I was a child, it was a favorite place to bring friends from out of town or to spend a quiet Sunday afternoon wandering the courtyard and grounds. It had probably been at least 20 years since I had been there but everything looked timelessly the same,

The Mission is still a functioning church with a large active congregation as you can see by all the cars parked in the background for the morning service.

You can tell by that azure and deep blue sky that it was a beautiful spring morning.

Built out of adobe these thick walls keep everything cool, even in the warmest weather.

 

 

 Looking out from the mission the brothers could watch for soldiers and travelers riding in from those hills seeking shelter as they moved up the coast from mission to mission.

I have always loved this fountain.  As a child I remember spending many an hour looking for goldfish in its waters.  It was one of my favorite spots.  In fact, it was one of the last places I brought my father to before he passed away.  This day I was standing there with my niece and great-nephew.

 This special courtyard, which you are only allowed to observe through the gate is the home of the oldest pepper tree in California.  You can see it through this old archway.  I have been coming to see this old tree my whole life. 

 

After wandering the grounds we headed inside the sanctuary.  

My brother became Catholic and was married in this church.  I walked down its aisle as a bridesmaid in his wedding, oh, so many years ago.

 The church has been restored and carefully maintained.  Those lovely wooden beams are all original. There is something about these old churches that have an air of sacredness that seems missing from the modern buildings of today with their projectors and multipurpose rooms. 

 We completed our day by driving down the hill to the small Episcopal cemetery in the valley below the mission.  This is where my dad is buried.  My grandparents are also buried here along with one aunt and uncle and numerous friends of my parents from when I was a child.  Unfortunately, I forgot my key and so I could only look through the gate.

And so our day was complete.  It was one filled with gentle memories of happy, peaceful days that, while long passed, still bring feelings of gratitude for the years that were given and are remembered.  A good day.

River Walk

Now that the football season is official over the Investigator is going to be looking for ways to pass his Sunday afternoons.  Last weekend he suggested we take a drive after church.  We ended up in the little historic town of Snohomish, WA where we stopped for a late lunch at the historic Oxford Tavern.  The locals say it's haunted by three ghosts but we didn't see any.  We were probably just too busy eating a wonderful homemade turkey sandwich, which we split along with a beer for the Investigator and a glass of wine for me.  Afterwards we took a short stroll along The Snohomish River Walk.  I had my camera with me but it turned out my battery was low so I only took a couple of shots. 

Although the sun was a little pale, it was shining and there were a number of people out enjoying the fresh air.

 There has been little rain or snow so the river was running rather lazily.  Kind of like us.

 

Winter and rain will most likely return again before the real spring and summer return to stay but it was really nice to get a little early taste of spring and think happy thoughts for a while.