writing groups

Our hospice team is forming a writing group

Nurses, doc, social workers, chaplains, home health aides,bereavement co ordinators- all disciplines are welcome to participate

We plan to meet monthly for 6 months, and then evaluate. So far there are 7 people signed up.

This is not something we are taking lightly- years of thought, months of research and proposal writing

I am in a writing group in my personal life- it is very supportive and very informal. We "go with the flow" so to speak- depending on what project each of us has in the works

I'm wondering- for all you wonderful writers out there- if you have any thoughts about structured writing groups?




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The Real World

I have returned from my exploration into solitude- and dutifully recorded on facebook that I am regretfully back to "the real world".... but I'm wondering a bit what the "REAL WORLD" really is.

I am back to the schedules and the chores. Back to the worry and the stress of work and the humdrum of dishes and laundry. My mind, however, somehow seems to have remained in the mountains of Maryland and W Va.

I ran away from home last Sunday- taking only a suitcase and a very large dog. Not even a book. I drove for 4 1/2 hours before I realized that I had never even turned on the radio. I arrived exhausted at the Holiday Inn in Martinsburg W Va and fell into bed- only to be awakened by a phone call at 7a. The desk clerk was politely inquiring if I might be missing my car keys- as they had been noted sticking out of the trunk of my car. Do you think I was a little tired?

Two full days lay ahead of me- with absolutely nothing planned. The hardest task I had before me was to turn off my brain-and that proved to be a difficult assignment. I also wanted to find the headquarters for the Appalachian Trail, which is located in Harper's Ferry W Va.

I set off to find Harper's Ferry, with no map or directions, just the vague notion that it was somewhere south of Martinsburg. While this may seem faulty logic to most- it gave me the most relaxing drive, through the most beautiful countryside. Surrounded by mountains, driving on twisting roads... ahhhhh......

Eventually I decided I needed a map- so I meandered my way back toward I 81, intending to stop at the visitor's center. Thank God for ADD. I became distracted by a sign pointing toward the Civil War battlefield Antiem- so I followed the signs and landed there. There are spots in the world where I am sure that you can still feel what took place there. I once stepped through the gates of the concentration camp Auschwitz and felt the coldness overtake me. There was a similar feeling here. Not as dramatic, but present. We wandered across the battlefield, just me and my dog- looking at the mountains and imaging what it must have been like for the young men facing each other in battle on that day, for those same young men to gather their dead and bury them later.

A map showed the location of Harper's Ferry to the south, so we wandered country road, surrounded by those beautiful beautiful mountains until we found the charming town. Towns are not particularly dog friendly- so we had no recourse but to retreat to the National Park and walk on some trails. ahhhhhhhhhh Perfection.

It was not until the next day that I actually located the Appalachian Trail headquarters. The wonderful volunteer Judy (trail name Judo) had through hiked the trail herself- and was a wealth of information and stories.

We completed our day with a walk by the Potomac - a long nap- and room service- and returned to our guys a happy woman and a happy dog

so, here I am a week later- wondering. What is the "real world" anyway? Is it the daily grind of work and chores? doubtful The daily intimacies of family and friends? Much more likely Are those folks who are even now shouldering backpacks and taking another step in their 2000t mile journey experiencing more of what the world really is? Could be..

Maybe the real world is just where we allow our minds to dwell- what we fix our thoughts and our hearts on, no matter where we are?

In any case- it was good to go and it is good to be home



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running away from home

I'm running away from home.

Literally.

The last time I did such a thing was when I was 7 years old. I packed my bag with cereal and a cookie and bravely walked 1/2 block to the "hideout" - a little stand of pine trees- where I sulked all day and then returned, tired but triumphant.

I'm not packing much more this time. A change or 3 of clothes. Maybe! a book. Not much else- except some dog food and water.

I'm taking my best buddy Emma- a golden retriever. An old golden retriever. We are climining in the car on Sunday sans computer and returning on Wednesday.

We are heading for the tip of W Virginia- to be part of the mountains, to catch a glimpse of the Shenadohah and to just be.

to just be...





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peace

If I should die before I wake..... I would die a happy, content woman....

It has been such a lovely day. We left this afternoon to go to my favorite "thin place"- my grandfather's farm- where time seems to have stood still. It is the same road, the same trees, the same beautiful huge rocks where we used to play as children. The outbuildings are the same- and when I step into the barn I can almost hear my grandfather's voice.

Dan and I took a lovely looong walk, following a trail down into the woods, seeing wild turkey and hearing.... NOTHING.... I think that is one reason I love the place so. The silence there is palpable. On a summer day, you can hear a bee that is buzzing. Deep in the words, you can hear the distant sound of a tractor chugging down the road. The only drawback to the walk was when we turned around and realized what goes down must go up..and up.... and so up we went. One step in front of the other.

The farm is a beautiful place, but that, I'm sure, is not the reason I love it so. I love it because it was there that I was first loved. Completely. Unconditionally. Totally accepted for whatever I might be. There is nothing like a grandparent, and when I turn on that road, I can feel their love surround me.

We stopped to visit with a favorite cousin- and a favorite aunt and uncle. I love those simple conversations, where past, present and future all intertwine.

As we talked, I realized that a year ago on this date, my husband had been lying in the hospital, pale, wan and hairless. We were dealing with infections, cardiac arrhythmias and facing months of chemotherapy. A year later, we spend the day hiking. Truly, God is good.

Our day was made complete by a holy week service tonight comprised of only candlelight, music, scripture, prayer and silence. There is a peace in my heart and my head that has been eluding me for months.

I am wishing for each of you that you find peace in the midst of this hectic week. That there is a time or a place where you can stop what you are doing and be still. That you can take a moment to connect to the One who made you and who loves you just as your are- completely, outrageously and unconditionally

Have a blessed Easter

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moments in time

It's a perfect day for washing windows. And for opening those same windows and letting the sweet smell of spring breeze through the nooks and crannies. It's a perfect day for sweeping the porch and for watching the people go by. On a day like this, one remembers the sight of freshly washed laundry hanging on a line, and the scents of good home cooking when the kitchen door is opened. On a day like this, boys come home hungry.

I wonder if life really boils down to all the little moments and how we choose to spend them?

I think of 2 women I met- both through the hospice program. Both facing trials and tribulations. One told me, speaking of the last 50 plus years of marriage "I wouldn't have missed a moment" Her face was serene, her eyes had a warm glow. The other sat in her chair, wrapped tightly within herself, making faces at her husband each time his back was turned. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. It might have been comical.... if it were not so sad...

What are your favorite moments?





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Guess who has an A in english

A text message any mother would be happy to receive... and I got it!

an A in english.... from my son.... who ever would have thunk it? So many memories roll to the surface- such a feeling of- all in that one little phrase

This is the kid who loved to be read to
- but couldn't learn his alphabet
This is the kid with whom I played hours of "games" each night of grade school
-but still couldn't pass a spelling test
This is the kid who hit 6th grade, still not able to read
-but no one could tell me why
"Such a nice boy" "he's very smart" "now mom.... he'll be ok" but no help
This is the child with whom I sat at countless tables, in countless meetings with an array of teachers staring at us. What an intimidating, overwhelming, stinking horrible experience- for both of us.

Vision therapy was the first ray of hope. I'll never forget the sight of my 10 y/o sitting in the big examing chair struggling to read a book that was below his grade level. Petite and passionate Dr Grant was explaining to me that "sometimes these kids will say that the words get bigger and then get smaller" - her fingers opening and closing as an example. The child engulfed in the chair- engulfed in the sea of frustration- engulfed in expectations and demands and drowning in it all... looked up, wide eyed and asked "do you mean they're not supposed to do that?"

Dr Grant and wonderful Janet tossed out the life preserver. Some wonderful tutors helped pull him (us) in. Middle school, high school for 2 years, then to the vocational school... and finally to college. and to a text message.....

guess who has an A in english?!






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"I'm a survivor"

Oddly enough, I am glad to see the rain...

It seems to match my mood this morning- torrents pouring down, washing away the winter, making everything new...

It's been a rough couple weeks in the world of hospice. Some people just wrap themselves around your heart- and their stuggle mirrors your own.

so, I'm going to make another cup of tea- sit on the porch and watch the rain.

Tonight we are going to a benefit for people who have cancer. Tonight, at the conclusion of the benefit, my husband Dan will get to rise to his feet with others and proclaim "I'm a survivor"

It's amazing how many thoughts and emotions hover just beneath the surface. It's amazing how the act of writing can distill and clarify those thoughts.




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