Pueblo

 Most people I grew up with left Pueblo as soon as they could. As a naïve 18 year old ... the place just didn't appear to have all that much going for it.  An industrial town that hosts the Colorado State Fair, it was birthed as a crossroad to places elsewhere. The Garden of the Gods is to the north.  The Royal Gorge is to the west.  New Mexico is to the south and the agricultural plains are to the east.  The Sangre de Cristo mountain range slopes and rises in an always stunning vista, a perfect half circle frame for the setting sun. Pikes Peak juts up about 45 miles away, one of the first and last peaks to show snow.  Pueblo itself lies in high desert.  Snowfall is rare and short lived, particularly these days.  The climate is temperate, dry, and can be very hot in the summer months. Cactus, lizards, jackrabbits and antelope abound in the dusty gully pocked land around the city. Mesas and arroyos and the Arkansas River define Pueblo's boundaries. The place has an old solid feel to it.

Once a part of Mexico... that influence is felt everywhere in the town I was born and raised in. From the favored cuisine found in dive bars and the family owned place where a president dined, to the annual Chile Festival with it's blocks and blocks of dancers and vendors and an actual chihuahua parade. My ear grew up hearing Spanish spoken everywhere, and my social group, including my first husband, included many second and third generation Mexican Americans. Their cultural influence on the city is powerful and colorful and magnificently rich. 

Spanish wasn't the only language to be heard then, and now, in Pueblo. Drawn by the rich ore mines in the surrounding areas and the creation of the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company (known to everyone in as the belching black behemoth- The CF&I) immigrants from Poland, Slovakia, China, Italy and others flocked to Pueblo to sip from the cup of industrial prosperity. Hard times would come but the these influences endured and the flavor of that history remains strong to this day in my home town.  

It is 2016 and I find myself landed back in the place I had fled so many years ago. My mother and sister reside here in a little ranch style suburban home on the South Side.  I capitalize "south side" because there are distinct locations within the area proper and though we grew up on the outskirts of the North Side... this new place has it's own properties and interesting neighborhoods to explore.  I buy a little house and go to work making it my own.  My sister helps me build a fence and I can preserves from the large apricot tree in my new yard.  Z, the cat that has come with me first from Istanbul, then Casablanca, now acclimates himself to his new digs. 

I sometimes walk, and sometimes bike to work where I try to teach groups of middle schoolers.  It is extremely hard work and I always stop off at my sister's house to vent or cry at the end of each day before heading home to drink. On weekends we hike in the foothills of Beulah or Canon City, or bike around Minnequa Lake. Sometimes we take mom for a drive to the mountains. I re-connect with friends and have a sort of social life. Other than work, I am reasonably happy to be here, near my sister and mother. I am rediscovering Pueblo! It now has quite the vibrant art scene. There are some magnificent trails out towards the reservoir and the new revitalized riverfront is abuzz with outdoor cafes, walkers, joggers, drum circles, and events.  I go to the "Bell Game" with my sister where we yell and scream for Centennial to win.  https://www.cpr.org/show-segment/pueblos-bell-game-the-zenith-of-a-high-school-football-rivalry-thats-lasted-125-years/ I walk the trail near the Nature Center. I marvel now...in my late 50's... having traveled the world and explored some of the most fantastic cities on the planet, that I can find intriguing and exotic experiences here. It only takes fresh eyes and an open heart. 

Yes, Pueblo is still gritty. There are gangs and crime and drugs. I become acclimated to the sounds of sirens, and I see the ugly when I look for it, but the truth is - beauty can be found in any place. One only needs to seek for it, and the plain can become a world of love unto itself.

Then the call comes that will lead to much future sorrow, but it is the reason I am back in the US as I am certain that GOD brought me stateside so that I would be able to quickly fly to my ex-husband's side. He has had a major stroke and is not expected to make it. I take personal days and fly to Portland where I sit long hours in that hospital room, near his family as we discuss protocols and outcomes and gather to pray over him. This will be a very long journey for all of us. He ultimately makes a long slow recovery at the expense of many hearts that will work diligently to help him return to life. Some of us have chances to learn lessons and make changes.  Some of us remain stubborn and refuse to see the possibilities given. There will be a morality tale in this thing... but it is not for these pages. Not now at least.

      "Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the LORD’s purpose that prevails."                           Proverbs 19:21