Learning to Live Again

My Story

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I was born on August 11, 1962, in Mildenhall, England, but my roots and my heart belong to the small town of Houston, Missouri, where I grew up. Ours was a simple, happy life — the kind where the kids in the neighborhood all gathered to play freeze tag, kick the can, red rover, and hide and seek until the streetlights came on.

I grew up in what I like to call a “classic Cleaver family.” My childhood was filled with warmth, laughter, and love. We always gathered around the dining room table to share meals and talk about our day. My parents created a home where family mattered and faith was lived, not just spoken.

Christmas was always magical in our house. Daddy would take us out to find the perfect tree, then shoot it down with his shotgun. Once he got it set up and strung the lights, it was up to us kids to decorate it with garland, ornaments, and shiny strands of tinsel. Momma made hot chocolate and turned on Christmas music, and we’d sing along as we worked. Those are memories that live deep in my heart.

Horses were a big part of my childhood. When I was twelve, I got my first horse, and from then on, I rode every chance I could — trail rides, long afternoons with my best friend Sandra, or just me and my horse exploring the countryside. Another favorite memory is playing piano with Daddy on Sunday mornings before church. That time together was pure joy.

I attended school in Houston, Missouri, where I was a quiet, average student — though in the classes I loved, I shined. I had a few teachers who left lasting impressions on me. Mr. Story and Mr. Rippee, my band directors, encouraged my love for music. Mr. Brown, my biology teacher, made science more approachable, and Mr. Cheek, my world geography teacher, turned a subject I once dreaded into one I truly enjoyed.

At fifteen, I joined the workforce with my first job at Big T — an experience that taught me more about patience than passion. But at eighteen, I began working at Walmart, a place that would become a second home for nearly four decades. I stayed there for 38½ years before retiring at age 57. It wasn’t just a job — it was a lifetime of friendships, memories, and moments that shaped who I am.

Life, of course, has not been without heartache. I lost my father when I was just six years old. Many years later, my son Luke passed away at twenty-eight from a massive stroke. And seven years ago, I lost my husband Bruce when I was fifty-six. Those losses changed me in ways words can hardly express — but they also deepened my faith, strengthened my compassion, and reminded me that even in the darkest times, love and life can still shine through.

Today, my greatest joy is my family — my loving husband Bob, and our wonderful children: Jennifer, Angela, Luke (forever in my heart), Kyle, Kris, Ellie, and Ashleigh. I’m blessed with beautiful grandchildren who bring laughter and light to every day.

I still love to ride horses and spend time outdoors — especially in the woods with friends. I treasure quiet mornings, time with loved ones, and the comfort of simple things. My faith continues to be the foundation of my life, and I’m grateful for the friends and family who’ve walked beside me, helping me grow spiritually and emotionally through the years.

As I look to the future, my hope is simple: to live the rest of my life healthy, happy, and surrounded by those I love most. I want people to see that even through tragedy, there is still joy to be found — that no matter what life brings, you can still love deeply, laugh often, and find beauty in every day.