Dear Maya Angelou

Dear Maya,

Nooooooooooooooo! I cried. 

And I haven’t been able to see straight all day

Thought it was an eyelash in my eye. It was.

And then the tears kept coming. 

Not crying for you. I’m happy for you.

Crying for me. Crying for all of us left behind

Always wondering how we will get by

without people like you.

Last time I heard your voice in an interview

I said to myself

I said

Joni! 

Listen well! 

Hear this voice! 

It won’t be long now til it is silent.

Again.

Good thing we live in a world and time

when we can still hear your recorded voice.

Now, I just wanted to let you know how much

we need your words and your voice. 

Maybe more now than ever before.

I know that as a writer, you couldn’t help but write.

I know you couldn’t help but sing, dance, learn, teach, praise, give voice.

But I still want to thank you for all of it.

Thank you for sharing yourself with us.

Love, Joni

A whole lot of education.

2009

My mother died on May 17th, 2009 and so, of course I always think about her on that date. It also happened to be her grandchild’s birthday/graduation from college weekend. And this year it happened to be the youngest grandchild’s graduation from high school weekend. This is also a year that two more grandchildren graduate from college.

It feels like an important milestone to mark and so I wanted to send congratulations to my parents. Dad died in 1998 and I hope they are resting in peace. They raised and educated five of us — and helped educate a few others here and there. Now that the youngest grandchild graduated from high school, we can say we raised and educated their 12 grandchildren. 

My mother went back to school for her A.A. degree -- 30+ years after she graduated from high school. My father scared me straight when I was trying to flunk out of college. I'm sure we are all grateful to them for their inspiration and example. Perhaps the 12 educated grandchildren is enough thanks?

It’s nearly impossible to get all 12 of them together, but it’s happened a few times. I wanted to celebrate this occasion by documenting a few of those times, especially because I know we all would have liked to get together to celebrate the three graduations this year. This is not an exhaustive collection of photos, but it's the ones I have. Or at least it's the ones that aren't too embarrassing to anyone.

Well done, Mom and Dad! Well done to all of us!

1987

1992

1995

2001

2009

2013

2013

The Story of the "Lady Slipper"

Turns out it's really a "Baby's Ear" shell

I realize that I have way too many posts about people dying, but I feel like I have to post this one too. The other day a friend shared photos on Facebook of the beach near the house her parents owned. Her mother recently died and she and her sister went out to the house over the weekend. It was one of the nicer weekends we've had this January. It made me think of my experience at the beach at the Outer Banks the summer after my friend and neighbor died. Lynn died "suddenly" in that she died a month after being diagnosed with cancer. My friend's mother had not died that quickly, but several months is barely enough time to get used to the idea of cancer, much less the idea of dying. My mother-in-law died in that same "sudden" way in 2012. In September they said "cancer" and she was gone in December.

For whatever reason, Lynn's death was so devastating and I was still trying to figure it out that summer at the beach. And thus began the story of the "Slipper Shell" that is actually a "Baby's Ear" (according to shell ID sites) which has been passed around from friend to friend as a sort of talisman to remind whoever has it that her sister-friends are with her during whatever turmoil is occurring. I had never told the story to anyone but when Terry was diagnosed with cancer, I felt I should give her the shell. So, I gave it to Terry when we were at the beach for her birthday/cancer diagnosis weekend. Then Kathryn had it when she was diagnosed. Andi had it for awhile when she was far away and her sister and sister-in-law were dying. Marykay had it and then it came back to me when I needed help getting through the death of another friend. I don't know why I didn't think to pass it on to Gail when she told us about her mother. I guess we all figured there was plenty of time. Then we were all busy and then suddenly, her mother was gone.
Like the shell itself, I really have no idea what it all means. It really doesn't mean anything I guess. There's so many things I don't believe in anymore, magic included. But I do love having that shell. And I do love having sister friends--even when we hardly ever see each other. Perhaps it's just a story that reminds me that I can not control when or how or who will bring answers.
Here's the story:

The Lady Slipper
August 12, 2005, Corolla, The Outer Banks, North Carolina
Came down to the beach early to sit and read and write along with the walkers, joggers, the early birds (real ones) kayakers, no surfers, and the shell seekers.
Walked down around the bend
and started picking up shells and rocks as I walked back.
Thinking about Lynn. Maybe I’ll bring shells back and take them to the cemetery and say hello.
I look up and see an older woman approaching me…
I prepare to greet good morning and think “wow, she looks like Lynn’s Mom!”
She reaches in her pocket, pulls out a shell and reaches it toward me…
“Are you picking up shells? Here, I found this… It’s called a Lady Slipper.”
She turns it over; it’s intact.
“I thought you might like to have it. It’s rare to find one intact.”
She puts it in my hand.
I turn it over to look and say, “I’ve never seen one before. Now I’ll know what to look for” and try to hand it back to her.
But she won’t take it so I say thank you and stand there looking at it.
She continues on, walking passed me up the beach.
When I turn to say thanks, have a nice day—she is gone.
I am overcome. I brought down “Gift from the Sea” for meditative reading this morning…was thinking about Kathryn and her Mom as I walked down the boardwalk and down the steps to the sand and what I might say when I write to her.
Thinking about Lynn.
Just serendipity? (The name of the store Mike and I went into the other night.)
Karma? A balance to the little scuffles with the girls and Mike this week?
All this time I’ve been hoping that Lynn would come to me and let me know everything was OK.
Did she wait for this quiet moment alone, when I least expected her—instead of in the middle of life on Hope Lane where I’ve been watching and waiting?
How to know that? I don’t know, but I believe it.

Ocean City with Sister-Friends

Happy Birthday Grace Paley (12/11/22-8/22/07)

I pulled this page from Ms Magazine in May 1980. This is a scan of a copy because the original page is now filed somewhere deep in my archives. Every once in a while I pull it out to read. And so today, when I heard mention of Grace Paley's birthday, I had to find it to read. In 33 years, I've probably read it at least 33 times and I'm still amazed by how much she packed into 400 words. Maybe someday I'll be able do that. 

One day I was listening to the AM radio. I heard a song: “Oh, I Long to See My Mother in the Doorway.” By God! I said, I understand that song. I have often longed to see my mother in the doorway. As a matter of fact, she did stand frequently in various doorways looking at me. She stood one day, just so, at the front door, the darkness of the hallway behind her. It was New Year’s Day. She said sadly if you come home at 4 A.M. when you’re 17, what time will you come home when you’re 20? She asked this question without humor or meanness. She had begun her worried preparations for death. She would not be present, she thought, when I was 20. So she wondered. 

Another time she stood in the doorway of my room. I had just issued a political manifesto attacking the family’s position of the Soviet Union. She said—go to sleep for Godsakes, you damn fool, you and your communist ideas. We saw them already, papa and me, in 1905. We guessed it all. 

At the door of the kitchen she said—you never finish your lunch. You run around senselessly. What will become of you? 

Then she died. 

Naturally for the rest of my life I longed to see her, not only in doorways—in a great number of places—in the dining room with my aunts, at the window looking up and down the block, in the country garden among zinnias and marigolds, in the living room with my father. 

They sat in comfortable leather chairs. They were listening to Mozart. They looked at one another amazed. It seemed to them that they’d just come over on the boat. They’d just learned the first English words. It seemed to them that he had just proudly handed in a 100 percent correct exam to the American anatomy professor. It seemed as though she’d just quit the shop for the kitchen. 

I wish I could see her in the doorway of the living room. 

She stood there a minute. Then she sat beside him. They owned an expensive record player. They were listening to Bach. She said to him—talk to me a little. We don’t talk so much any more. 

I’m tired—he said. Can’t you see? I saw maybe thirty people today. All sick, all talk, talk, talk, talk. Listen to the music—he said. I believe you once had perfect pitch. I’m tired—he said. 

Then she died.

__________

Grace Paley has written two books of stories, “The Little Disturbances of Man” (New American Library, paperback) and “Enormous Changes at the Last Minute” (Farrar, Straus & Girous, hardcover and paperback).

A Few Words about Bill Fitzgerald

I’m not naive. I know there’s no such thing as a perfect parent or a perfect marriage. But it’s important to give credit for trying.

And so, among the many thoughts I have about Bill Fitzgerald on the day of his memorial service, there is this:

Bill and Martha raised 11 kids to be strong individuals. Among them you can count 11 different ways of thinking and viewing the world.  Bill and Martha did this during some difficult times in the 60’s and 70’s. As if that weren’t enough work for them, they also taught and inspired so many others of us along the way.

Bill truly meant it when he greeted you or said farewell with “Peace” and I do too. Sending out lots of love to all the Fitzgeralds. Thanks for sharing Bill and Martha with the rest of us. 

Peace.

(With apologies for the slightly awkward photo that includes my brother and a few Fitzgeralds at awkward ages. Bill, center with glasses. Martha, kneeling right front)

Me, with Bill at Andrew and Leah's wedding

 P.S. Here are two places you can learn more about this amazing man.

http://memorialwebsites.legacy.com/bill_fitzgerald

http://www.lmu.edu/fame/inductees/fitzgerald.htm

The Navy Yard

People always ask me how far I am from DC. Well it depends on where you are going, what day it is, what time it is and whether there’s street closings for parades or marathons or a mass shooting.

Today, I am 26 to 37 miles away from the Washington Navy Yard which could be 40 to 50 minutes away on a good day. Or if I took Metro and the Navy Yard Station were open, it would take me about 50 minutes.

Today, 12 people were killed by someone who appears to have worked with them right there at the Navy Yard. As far as I know, I don’t know any of them. I also didn’t know anyone who was killed at the Pentagon in 2001. I didn’t know anyone who was killed by the “Sniper” in 2002. Or at any of the other mass killings that have occurred in the U.S. But every time I hear about one of these “events” I get sick to my stomach. I think about all those families whose lives have suddenly changed because of a person with a gun.

Today I went “off the grid” once it seemed clear that it was an isolated event that wasn’t going to effect how I got through my day. I knew it was all going to be bad news and I didn’t need to hear constant updates or hear speculation or hear or read what the people with anti or pro- gun agenda’s had to say about it. Still, it did effect how I got through my day. Those 12 families were on my mind all day and I wished there were a way to personally send them my good wishes.

When I signed back in to the grid, nothing I heard or read surprised me. It was neither less awful or more awful than I expected it to be. It was just awful.

There have been more than 100 mass shootings in America in my lifetime. I suppose the first one I remember for sure is the University of Texas shooting--the reason I am still paranoid in big open public areas, especially if there’s tall structures where a shooter might hide. Today’s “workplace” shooting is why I am nervous even in my own office, where people come to have their taxes prepared and are usually very angry that they have to pay taxes. It doesn’t help that the office is on a major street with several Federal office buildings on it, where people try to outrun the red lights at the corner and we hear screeching tires several times a day. And then there’s the sirens of emergency vehicles racing to help at nearby intersections or the highway.

I’m afraid there is probably nothing that will ever be done to reduce the number of mass shootings. Not as long as the NRA exists as it currently exists. I’m not interested in “taking your guns away” and truthfully, don’t think anyone is interested in that. But I am so weary of the so-called “Second Amendment Supporters” and their rhetoric and lies. 

Do they really believe that people like me don’t “believe” in the Second Amendment? 

Apparently some Americans think we can pick and choose which Amendments to “believe in.” I suppose I can see their point--I probably would have been against Prohibition, but I’m one of those suckers who follows the laws--even the ones I don’t like. I don’t like paying taxes, but I do it. I don’t like stopping at the stop sign as I leave my neighborhood, but I do it. I don’t like that I have to listen to pro-gun free speech, but I am often forced to do so. I don’t like that women sometimes choose to have an abortion, but I honor their right to make that choice in private. I could go on and on.

I’m pretty sure that today’s events won’t change anything. People will still buy guns. Some people will buy automatic guns, claiming they’ll use them for hunting when the reality is that no one needs an automatic gun to shoot a deer. Or if they do, they are lousy hunters and lousy marksmen/women. Some people will kill other people with their guns that they buy claiming they need them for self-defense. 

None of this makes sense to me. It breaks my heart that I know there will be more days like this. I know there will be more days where I feel sick to my stomach knowing about families experiencing horrible grief because someone with a gun decided to kill family members of people they do not know.  

I guess I just think that there could be solutions to Americas’ gun fetish. Actually, we already know the solutions, we just aren’t brave enough to do what needs to be done. I know there will always be guns, but it seems to me there are plenty of smart things that could be done “around the edges” of this problem that would help prevent days like today.

At the end of this long day I turned to Jon Stewart’s Daily Show because sometimes a little humor helps us understand the truth. I did my research and know you can read the truth about how the NRA has written our gun laws (search: Tiahrt Amendment) but Jon Stewart may do it better. 

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/wed-january-16-2013/there-goes-the-boom

Here’s a transcript if you prefer reading:

http://www.dailykos.com/story/2013/01/17/1179688/-Must-see-Jon-Stewart-exposes-how-the-NRA-GOP-PREVENT-the-ATF-from-enforcing-current-gun-laws

Ann Bernice Henderson Goodwin March 1920 - July 2013

Dear Aunt Ann, 
I know you are resting in peace because you always brought a sense of peace with you everywhere. But I am selfishly feeling bad because I am now without any uncles and aunts and not feeling very peaceful. Of course I knew this day would come, but I still can’t believe it. So I pulled out Margaret’s old photo albums and have gathered some photos to share here.

However, I don’t seem to have any photos of one of my favorite memories which is when you and I travelled to the Mother House of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth to visit Sister Mary De Lourdes (Bernice Schuelle) for her 90th birthday. She was closer to Margaret's age, but her family had been neighbors in Leavenworth and you were given her name for your middle name. 

We’re all somewhat jealous that you are all surely partying now that you’re all together again. I’m guessing we all kind of wish we could do some kind of time travel and get together with you all in Aunt Kay’s back yard -- all the various generations together telling stories. I know we are all grateful to your generation and our parents’ generation for your efforts to share so many birthdays and holidays when we were growing up. 

My consolation is that I feel you will always be with me, at least when I’m working on genealogy. I can’t get over how much you accomplished before any of us had computers -- ordering microfilm and sitting at those readers searching for names on census records. Then making copies and sending letters with stories you remember. My work is a continuation of yours and your persistence inspires me to keep working on the Adams and Sesma stories.

We were so lucky to be loved by you. 
Peace, Joni

[note to readers: Ann was my maternal grandmother's youngest sister. Their mother, Anna,  gave birth to 12 babies. My grandmother Margaret was second-born in 1899; Ann was last-born in 1920. My mother Betty Ann was born in 1921 and in many ways Ann and Betty Ann were like sisters. As a child, I always thought of Ann as an aunt like my mother's sister Peg. In fact, there was very little differentiation between "degrees" of relation for any of the generations -- so when I started doing genealogy, I had to learn the difference between aunt, grand-aunt, great-aunt, etc. Likewise for grandmothers -- it took me many years to figure out the difference between Anna and her own mother Elizabeth so that now I use Anna Harrington Henderson and Elizabeth Ringwald Harrington in order to remember.]

Here are some photos. The B&W photos are from photo albums of Margaret's that I had in storage, waiting for me to have time to scan them. I don't have any here for the late 60's on. Then I have a few from John Henderson's 100th birthday in 2008 and other recent events.

Anna Henderson, Ann
(1920, can't read others (written in faded pencil); could be Tom & Frank? Maybe Margaret?)

Arkansas 1921
Margaret & Verne, Mother (Anna) Henderson holding Betty Ann
John Henderson, Ann Henderson

Betty Ann and Ann

Ann Henderson
Leavenworth, KS

Ann Henderson, age 4

  
  St. Louis
"Francis & Thomas, Ann, B-Ann, Bob, Paul Jr, Peggy, Walter"

  

 

Ann, Betty Ann, Peg, Joani & Friends
Strotman St. St Louis

  

Grandma Harrington, Adele & Clarence, Anna, Ann
Adele (Henderson) & Clarence Hatch Wedding Day 1925

 

         

                         

Betty Ann in her H.S. graduation dress. Ann.

Peg, Betty Ann, ??, Ann
This must be 1938 because Betty is wearing her high school grad dress. 

 

Bill & Ann Goodwin. Peg & Joe Fairchild

V-mail from Ang Adams to Ann & Bill, 1944

Sisters 1960. Margaret, Ann, Adele, Kay (and someone in mirror)
(this must be Gertrude Harrington & Arch Johnstone's 50th anniversary.)

Early 1960's. Goodwin's backyard?? 

 

At the Adams, McLean Ave. 1960's
Joe Fairchild, Ang Adams, John Henderson, Bea Henderson
Ann Goodwin, Margaret Russell, Betty Adams, Frank Henderson, Peg Fairchild
That's Tom Adams next to Ang and I think that's my back walking away.

My baby shower in 1979.
Back: Peg, Barbara, Cathy, Mimi
Front: Margaret, Ann, Me, Chris, Marian. Betty in front.

2008, John's 100th birthday
Betty, Ann, Barbara, John

Betty, Ann, Mary Bruemmer

Ann and her girls. Barbara, Maureen, Nancy

Ann, Marian. At Mark's after the 100th birthday party

John Henderson, Ann at Joe Fairchild's funeral

   

Ann, Peg Fairchild, John Henderson.
At Cathy Fairchild's after the funeral.