Alice Francis Satterfield

Alice Frances Satterfield first time I met you ,you were only 6 weeks old you and ur dad came to Grandmaws birthday party in Roswell, New Mexico. The look on Grandmaws face when she saw you and found out You were named after her not just the first name but also the middle name such a awesome Lady to be named after. Your very special to us in many ways then one . We will miss you but Grandmaw Satterfield and Grandpaw Satterfield have you now thanks for helping them build the house for all of use when we meet you at the gate Love you Cuz.

There Is No Flower ​​​a dirge for my friend Cindy, mother of Alice Satterfield The day my geologist friend lost her, ​​Wait. The day my friend, who is a geologist taught her daughter the stories of eras and periods and eons, ​​​​the child was seven-or-so-bright, my son’s age and all joy-armed, sponge memory, and we talked about shoes as we prepped for our classes, how our kids left their shoes all over the house, and how to handle this problem: ​​how we could teach them ​​​to keep things ​​​​​in place ​​​​so they would not suffer later. My friend, a professor of geology and deep time, ancient metamorphic layers, her specialty ​​​​​among others, who guides young students to their dreams of holding shale one day like she does, ​​​​​or wonder, like she does ​​​​​ at the creation of stardust, must face them next week with her new without face, without the condensing pressure a child places on its mother’ s body, ​​​​​the very pressure that keeps her body from fizzing away in a constant combustion of spontaneous illogical ​​​​mudstone love. Properties, her area. And a mother of more beautifuls. Types, her charts and samples: Of magma, sediment, of stages ​​​​​​​of cooling down: I imagine she loves or hates shale, how it is fissile, ​​​​​​a frazzled sort of artifact, and no admirable polymer that can stretch (like gold does) into its single atomic sheet of thin-ness and stay together, ​​​​​my friend whose heart is such now, so dangerously thin now, and neither polymer nor laminated mud, nor magma that would ooze and burn under ​​​her skin. ​​​​​I want the earth to teach her ​​​​​​how to do this ​​​​​​​part ​​​​​​​ of her life now, not to break, but to carry. I believe the earth has this knowledge and soothing effect on the roughest of edges. My friend whose soul is lifted by telling the stories inside the long lives of stones: granite, sandstone, onyx, Gaia’s loose and nestled children that fall and rise, the pebble-worn and unpopular, kicked-to-the-side kind, the red and black river stone kind, freckled, the gray-white bedrock, the rounded boulders pummeled ​​​​​​by ages ​​​​​​ of water, her heart by ages of tears now, ​​​​her eyes a- ​​​​​ luster drained of all the salts her body has ever carried. She once told me how certain colors form, certain stones I’ve loved became their hue: heat, she said, ​​​​ time and immense pressure. She may collapse now, my friend, whose daughter ​​ was taken from her, will collapse, is collapsing many times, will stretch, is stretching to lengths no one should try to imagine pressed, ​ under the stone ​​​ that is that long morning. This wall of sedimentation, of ribboned eons cemented to one another,​​​​​​​​ ​​​​​​loosened somehow despite her grip and created this un-welcome ​​​​​​​hollow, this opening in her mountain-side that formed her very hips, this horizon enough already, her cup of sorrow flowing over now: as if I can name this, ​​​​pretend to understand this. ​​​​​​​​ I cannot send her flowers to say how sorry. There is no flower that can say it or ease ​​​​​​this time, this pressure, this heat. I cannot build a gate for a god or any kind of mercy to walk through ​​​​​​​and make it ​​​​​​​undone, ​​​​to make it yesterday morning again, ​​​make it before, ​​ before. ​​​​​​​​​ My daughter can practically teach my Geo 1301 class, knows all the answers, she once giggled. Loves this stuff as much as me, my friend reveling like a dervish as only a parent can derv: bright light bursting, her skin a-glow ​​​imagining all the good ​​​​​​possibilities ​​​​​​​of becoming. The horned owl across the street is vocalizing under the power lines in the skeletal post-frost elm. He’s claiming this is his, this night, this nest. ​​It is before one a.m. the day after, ​​​​​and the sky ​​​​​​and me ​​​​​and a highway buzz form his three audiences, and what he wants is none of us, just the one who understands time and nest and now. I do not want to be outside with him sorrowing ​​​​​​or awake because I do not know if my own child is okay ​​​​ and time, and nest, and now can disappear with much needed mercy of sleep ​​​​​​There is no flower I can send my friend because flowers become something else too quickly, detritus, ​​mud, ​​then clay, ​​​​​​​then shale ​​​​ and my friend’s daughter knows this and all about eras ​​​​​​​​and perpetuity, so much so that she has become an era of her own now, a period that does not lapse, cenozoic: ​​​​​recent life, a wonderland, ​​​​Alice​ ​​​​ for us ever to behold. Dear Cindy and family, I offer you this in lieu of flowers for you to hold and all gentleness to your hearts.

Words cannot describe the grief I feel. Alice was the most beautiful soul I had ever had the pleasure of being with. We had so many plans in our life that we wanted to do, travel the world, children, building our garden, etc. Seeing her smile over the littlest things was nothing short of pure bliss. When she would wake up in the morning she would always make these little cat faces that she always did lol….she would make the sweetest voice when she would tickle Kosha and play with her that I would always tease her about. She had this large letter “A” light that she absolutely adored. And she was the greatest mom to Kosha, I would jokingly compete with her for Koshas “love,” but of course mom always won lol. She adored elephants and sunflowers more than anything… “If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever.” ~Alfred Lord Tennyson Alice was a blessing on this world, a soul that will never appear in another generation for centuries to come. She loved unconditionally, cared selflessly, she was….is…the very definition of an Angel incarnate. Her beauty could only be described as radiating from within and shining out like a star for all to see. We had these silly nicknames for each other….I was her Lettucesu and she was my Cabbagesu….We’re but mere puzzles. True love is not finding someone put together, true love is finding someone who fills our missing pieces. And Alice, was my missing piece. Rest In Peace my Cabbagesu, until we meet again ♥️

I’m so sorry for your loss Cindy. I can’t imagine my life without my own 22 year-old daughter. May you be filled with calm and peace during this sad time. Prayers for you and your family. Angelica Esparza

Thank you so much Natalia for these beautiful words.

Cindy, I am so sad to hear such a tragic death of your daughter at the age of 22. I have no words to comfort you. My prayers are there for you, and your family Cindy. Lisa George from Chemistry

Cindy, I am so sorry for your loss. I will be praying for you and your family. She was a beautiful young lady. If I can do anything for you please let me know. Diana

We will miss your incredible sweet spirit Alice! We always enjoyed having you spend time with us. All our thoughts and prayers go out to our daughter Allison Trudell who misses her best friend and to Alice’s entire family. Rest in Peace Alice 🙏❤ You will be missed and never forgotten.

Our hearts ache over the sudden loss of Alice. Our trips to San Antonio to visit family were a little more special when we had the opportunity to spend time with Alice. Here are a few older photos of two of my kids with her – goodbyes were always bittersweet. Even more so now! Our thoughts and prayers are for the family and each one walking through this grief. God bless each one of you. Oscar (son of Sylvia Satterfield) & Bettie Sotomayor

Del, Sylvia and Family, I remember Alice as a sweet young kid who took time to make my grandson’s time a happy one during his time spent at their home. Michael loved her and was heavily impacted by her loss. We will miss seeing her as she was always sweet and caring. May she rest in the presence of our Lord until we meet again. Del and Tía, our thoughts, prayers and our love are with you and your’s. Tony, Ana María and the Pérez Clan

My sweet cousin, Alice..I remember this 4th of July so well. Always in our hearts 💕

I love this beautiful and bright young woman that I am blessed to have as my niece. I will cherish every moment spent with her. And will carry this love in my heart always.

I have the privilege of having Alice in my Sunday School class at Madison Hills Baptist church and she was incredibly intelligent, caring and with a wonderful sense of humor. I know her passing has left a huge hole in the hearts of many people and she will be greatly missed by all who knew her.

My condolences Cindi. I lost a daughter in a similar way…tough getting through it; you never get over it. Hang in there…my prayers are with you and your family.

Cindy, our sincerest condolences. If we can help in any way, please text me at 210-910-7987.

First of all, I am so very sorry for your tremendous loss, and will pray that God will ease the pain of the entire family. I lost my sister at the same age and in the way. I can only relate to the shock and pain, as I did not have the honor of knowing her. I work at NVC, and I wish I had known Alice before she passed; she was beautiful and looked like a sweet person. Very Sincerely and in Christian Compassion, Jennifer Cox

I am so sorry for your loss, Cindy and everyone who loved Birdie. You are all in my thoughts.