What makes a celebration? Balloons, presents, and cake? A Christmas tree, church, and candlelight? A dinner for two? Fireworks and picnics? A crowded parade with hundreds of thousands of people all dressed in red? So many different ways to mark or honor a special event, person, or team! A little over two weeks ago we had two celebrations within two days of one another. Both were in Kansas City. One was planned, the other hoped for but unknown until the last minutes of a game. On Super Bowl Sunday, we knew we would be in Kansas City at the end of the week for Chris’ sister Mary’s Celebration of Life. We didn’t know at the time that we would be there in a few days to celebrate the winners of the Super Bowl—the Kansas City Chiefs! There were three life-long Chiefs fanatics who wanted to be among the throngs of other red-clad fans to see and celebrate their favorite football team. So on Valentine’s Day, we picked up two of our kids, and the following day, Chris and the kids added their cheering voices and red attire to the Chiefs’ celebration!

Two days later, before Mary’s celebration, we hiked at Minor Park in Kansas City where the old Santa Fe trail crossed the Blue River. We followed a trail beside Little Blue Creek that feeds into the bigger Blue. It had been below freezing the night before, which brought a dusting of snow to the area.

But the day was clear and chilly with bright sunshine that reflected off the water of the creek—a crystal circle of light, itself so bright it was hard to look at without squinting.

It was strange to be without snow while in Missouri after months of white-covered ground back home. But the cold night had created a temporary ice wonderland in Little Blue Creek as the water flowed over and gurgled around the rocks—like diamonds in the dark sky.

The bright blue sky highlighted the American Sycamore trees with their light gray, mottled bark and abundance of seed balls hanging like mod 60’s earrings from the branches. It’s always good to see them again, these sturdy, long-lived giants, since they don’t live in our part of Minnesota.

The rock is different here also—mostly sedimentary limestone and shale. It forms rock walls and outcroppings that can be moved and formed by water. A series of waterfalls or cascades dotted the little creek, including the block fall (wider than it is tall) that created a plunge pool at the bottom. The cold night had induced the formation of ice stalagmites, icicles, and delicate, lacy sheets of ice—shiny ribbons and sculptures celebrating the fleeting days of Winter.

The sun lit up the ice and the old, golden leaves of a young Sycamore. It melted the snowy frosting from the evergreen moss. It shone its light and warmth on the face of an enormous Oak tree that looked to me like a ‘singing tree’ with its open mouth and outspread arms.

At the end of our hike, we crossed the Old Red Bridge, the third installment of the famous red bridge that originally spanned the Blue River. This one was built in 1932, christened by Judge Harry S. Truman, and is now a pedestrian bridge celebrating Love. Over 5,000 locks have been connected to the bridge by couples symbolizing their everlasting love.

That evening, we walked into the large gathering room at the group home where Mary had lived for almost forty years. The tables were decorated with purple tablecloths, potted flowers, pictures of Mary (many with Santa), and purple and pink balloons. All of her friends, co-workers, and caregivers were there to celebrate the life and love of Mary Brake. There was a table of pictures of our family celebrations and of festivities with her friends and housemates. A DJ played background music. There was a slideshow of the full and varied life she had lived. Some of her friends shared their feelings—“I miss her,” “I worked with her; she was my friend,” “I loved her,” and a sweet comment by a young man who worked with her, “She’s alive in heaven.” We shared her favorite meal—tacos, chips, and Dr. Pepper, and for dessert—waffles, ice cream, and sprinkles. And then the DJ turned up the dance music, and people of every ability hit the dance floor. Mary would have been one of the first ones out there. We danced to the Macarena, Cotton Eye Joe, YMCA, and All I Want for Christmas is You! It was the perfect celebration of our dear Mary. For a person who didn’t say very many words, Mary had captured the hearts of a multitude of people. She was something special, and she blessed us all with her life. We will miss her dearly, but she remains a bright, shining diamond in the dark sky.