My alarm went off this morning at 3:45. That is a dumb time for an alarm to go off. But, I set it to that time on purpose. It’s a big day. I tumbled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of ambition. I yawned and stretched and tried to come to life. I drank in some coffee, drank in some Word, got dressed, grabbed my bag and headed to the airport. 

I arrived at Love Field at 5:00 am, and to my shock they did not have the red carpet with my name on it rushing me to the front of a verrrry long security check line. I started thinking “I’m not going to make it.” I will have to drive, and by the time I get there it will all be over.” However, at 5:45 I cleared security after having my bag searched, and had 5 minutes to get to my gate. Only one child wearing a top heavy turtle backpack maybe got slightly pushed as he wandered into my stride. I got to the gate and yelled to the attendant across the empty seats and the maybe 20 people who were still waiting to board “Is this the flight to Tulsa?” She said “yes.” So I said again “All these people are going to Tulsa?” apparently I wasn’t able to take her word for it. She said “yes,” again and somebody’s mom looked at me and nodded confirmation. Ok. I’m going to make it. In a few hours I will be in Barnsdall. 213 W. Main Street, Barnsdall, OK to be exact.

But first…I get to watch the sunrise from 22,000ft in the air. My heart may burst. This morning my Jesus Calling devotional began with these words: “Bring me the sacrifice of thanksgiving. Take nothing for granted, not even the rising of the sun.” Check.

Today 213 W. Main St. is filled with boxes. Boxes that will be carried out of the house she has lived in for over 40 years, and into the new Senior Living apartment home she will live in by the end of this day. All sweet. No bitter. Those of us she taught to sew, taught to cook, taught to not say the words Pa tried to teach us to say, will carry her boxes for her and caravan her to her new town as if she were a queen. Those of us who left her house a mess after building bookin’ houses with sheets and blankets in the back bedrooms. Those of us who took baths while she fixed us malts. Those of us who would scream when she would bust open the door in the morning singing “Rise And Shine And Give God The Glory Glory.” Those of us who she took out to Nelagoney and let us drive her car…when we were 11. Those of us who pushed the curfew as we found weekend boyfriends in Barnsdall. Those of us who drug her picture albums out and laughed till we cried. Those of us who sang “9 to 5,” “You Light Up My Life,” and whatever Baptist Hymnal songs we knew standing on our stage (the hearth of her fireplace.) Those of us who had our pictures taken by her pink ladies each year at Easter. Those of us who wore dresses she made (some of these are obviously from a granddaughter perspective and not grandson). Those of us who have told her our good news and have heard her almost gasp and say “Praise the Lord.” Those of us who watched her roll her eyes at Pa, followed by a grin, followed by the words “Pull your pants up Melvy.” (He didn’t have much of a rear.) Those of us who have sang harmony with her, sat by her in the pew, stood by her at funerals and drank coffee with her on her porch. Those of us who are better people for having been loved by her, for having witnessed her faith in Jesus Christ, for having been taught life lessons by a woman of her character. We are those of us in this picture taken a few years ago for her Christmas present; the kids of her kids Glenda, Karla and Mike. Jennifer, Lane, Me, Riann, Emily, Chris and Mindy. The rest of us are Tim, Jeana, Derick, Kyle, Ty, Trent, Parker, Baby Girl Swanson due in September, Josh, JD, Macy, Leigh, Jordan, Kaitlyn, Shawn, Ryland, Isaac and Hope.



“An excellent wife who can find? She is far more precious than jewels. The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain. She does him good, and not harm, all the days of her life. She seeks wool and flax and works with willing hands. She is like the ships of the merchant; she brings her food from afar. She rises while it is yet night, and provides food for her household and portions for her maidens. She considers a field and buys it; with the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard. She dresses herself with strength and makes her arms strong. She perceives that her merchandise is profitable. Her lamp does not go out at night, and her hands hold the spindle. She opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of snow for her household, for all her household are clothed in scarlet. She makes bed coverings for herself; her clothing is fine linen and purple. Her husband is known in the gates when he sits among the elders of the land. She makes linen garments and sells them; she delivers sashes to the merchant. Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.” Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.” Proverbs 31:10-31 – that describes her just about perfectly. Just don’t try to tickle her feet.  Her gentleness is lost and she’ll kick you in the face without even blinking.

Bonnie Lou Robertson Harmon. When I have my computer that has her pictures, I will post one of her here. :)

Little Girl Bonnie, Nelagony, OK

That's Bonnie in the middle, cousins on both sides.

Cork and Bonnie's Wedding Day.  She's wearing a gray dress suit and red heels. :)

Dad, Mom, Glenda and Karla.

Corky, Bonnie, Glenda, Karla and Mike.

Bonnie and her smile.



Granny B.

Those of us who will carry her boxes are the ones who arise and call her blessed. We are the same ones who will probably be a little too loud today as we move her into her new place, probably laugh a little too much when we should be working, and probably get a little teary as we say goodbye to the house we lived and loved in our whole lives. The good thing is…we take the love with us. It isn’t the house, although we cherish it. It isn’t the town, although we'll miss it. It’s the family.