SAYING GOODBYE WILL NOT BE EASY

December 12, 2006
Garrison and Me

Garrison Keillor is retiring.  I am sad.  I knew it was coming.  When I saw him live at Avery Fisher Hall he announced to the audience that at age 72 (at the time) he was putting a date on his retirement.  The audience groaned in unison.  But the time is coming this summer and all I can think is what will I do on my Saturday nights!!! 

Sitting with a glass of wine on the deck, or driving home from babysitting the grandkids, you would find me in that land of Lake Wobegon, Minnesota listening to the live radio show, singing songs, sometimes shedding tears, but always….always having a good laugh.  

I have had the pleasure of seeing his radio show, Prairie Home Companion, on four different occasions during my lifetime.  Each one unique but enjoyable beyond description.  When my daughter worked for the New York Philharmonic, her position always got me a trip backstage into the green room so I could shake his hand and tell him what a joy he has been in my life.  This humble man was never full of himself and I always felt he was embarrassed by the praise, whether it came from me or the ones who came before me, he was always thankful for your kind words.  The first time I met him I said to him,  “I spend more time with you on a Saturday night than I do my own husband.”  He laughed.

My daughter arranged for a picture to be taken of the two of us at my first ever meeting with him.  My nervousness got the best of me as I went up to his side and put my arm around his waist.  Not realizing that I was  grabbing the fat roll around his waist, I suddenly got red in the face as he leaned into me and said, “You get real friendly!”  Stumbling over my words and laughing like a giddy school girl, it was a moment I will never forget.  He was a kind gentle giant who I feel honored to have met (and squeezed).  

During the last performance, I saw at Avery Fisher Hall, sitting in the VIP box, overlooking the audience and the stage, laughing so hard at his stories, I kept trying to keep in check my exuberance.  When intermission came, a staff member came up to me and said, “Mrs. Ford, the staff is worried that you are not having a good time at the show!”  I laughed and then worried I was being too loud.

“I’m sorry, was I laughing too loud?” I asked.

“Oh know,” he said.  “We enjoy hearing your glee!”

Another part of aging is learning to say goodbye to those things you have loved and enjoy.  This will not be an easy goodbye for me.  Oh, how I will miss those wonderful words,  "Well, that's the news from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average."

WHY WRITE MY MEMOIR?

I lead a Memoir Class in the community in which I live.  The most common question I get regarding our Memoir Group is “Why write a memoir?”  So I reached out to some people I know who are in the process or have written their own memoir and here are a few of their answers:

"I want them to know 'the real me,' to know I had an interesting, adventuresome life."

"To understand my life by looking backward."

"To write something for myself."

"I want to talk about all the fun we had."

“I loved life on the home front during WWII and I wanted my grandkids to know what it was like.”

"I grew up in an Irish neighborhood in Philadelphia which no longer exists. I wanted my kids and grandkids to know what that life was like in the city."

“To share our immigrant story."

"To capture the stories, but not in a lot of depth."

"To write the story of my military life.”

“To share what life was like during the depression.”

You don’t have to have led a spectacular life to write a memoir…you just need to be you, and find the story in your experience.  I have had people tell me their story, then follow that by saying I cannot write so I don’t know how to write my story.  I tell them to write it as you just told it, in your own voice, your own style, and your own way.  It is that simple.

Many people confuse memoir writing with autobiographies.  Autobiographies encompass the entire life of the writer, where memoir writing focuses in on just one given period.  Which is why memoir groups are growing in popularity.  Pick a topic and write about it as you lived the moment.

I share a story about two sisters I know who lost their mother early in their life.  Their father remarried about a year after their mother died.  These two sisters, loved their step-mother but over the years as they went through the special occasions in their own lives they missed their mother and wished they knew more about her.  Afraid they might hurt the feelings of a step-mother who was very kind and loving to them, they kept this desire to themselves.  When their father died, the older sister got a call from the step-mother and let her know that in the attic she found a box of things that looked like they belong to their mother and offered the items up to the sisters.  

The sisters got together that very day and opened the box which began a journey of discovery. In the box were not only photos and mementos but also diaries their mother had written.  Non-stop reading, sharing, laughter and tears until about 4 in the morning when they realized the time but so overjoyed by the realization that for the first time in their adult lives they knew who their mother was, her desires, her experiences, and how much she loved her two little girls.  A joy they share over and over again today as they gaze down on their own children and grandchildren.  

Like so many others today, they keep active journals of thought and experiences for the purpose of sharing who they are with the generations to come.  

There can be many reasons for writing your memoir, but none more important than sharing an ordinary life in extraordinary times.

TIMING

Kathmandu before the Quake
March 2015 by Brian

Timing.  How many times in our life has it happened to us?  The right time in the right place.  Wrong time in the wrong place.  Timing is what I thought about as I followed the events in Nepal over the weekend.  Brian, a friend of our family, just returned from Nepal.  He posted some incredible pictures of his visit and as he tells me, “so many of the buildings and temples are now destroyed.”

Is it luck?  Our guardian angel?  Intuition?  What makes timing often play such an important part of our life.

Like many, I have experienced many timing events in my life.  One evening returning home from a company holiday party, Pat and I were driving home on Route 378, a 4 lane highway just north of Bethlehem.  Driving in a pack, I suddenly said to Pat, “hit your breaks”.  He responded by tapping the breaks causing us to remove ourselves out of the pack of cars enough that when suddenly, a car came flying across our two lanes from the other side, taking out the four cars ahead of us while we had enough space to get out of harms way by pulling up the side of hill.

“Why did you tell me to back off?” Pat asked as we sat there in shock at what we were seeing.

“I don’t know,” I remember saying, “I just became overwhelmed with fear and all I could do was ask you to pull back from the pack of cars.”

The greatest impact of timing for me came when, while volunteering at the American Legion in Fox Lake, Illinois, it was time to end the day, but I decided to wait and help make sure all the wounded military men were on the bus heading home.  It was that moment that I met the man who would become my best friend and husband of 45 years.  

Back to our young friend Brian and his trip to Nepal.  He has a request.  With his permission, I am including it here.

“I hope everyone I know will take a moment and consider donating to relief efforts for Nepal's earthquake.

We always think of these things as being so far away. However, less than four weeks ago I was trekking in Nepal and had a medical situation requiring a Medivac from the mountains. The person who was most instrumental to my immediate care, my guide Madan, and the person who coordinated my Medivac and hospital care, Prem, the company director, both lost homes in the disaster.

We live with so much more than many people in the worlds, including the infrastructure to be able to respond to natural disasters. Please give something to those with less and who today need the most. Just give to a legitimate charity…

Thanks,

Brian”

http://www.redcross.org/news/article/Red-Cross-Responding-to-78-Magnitude-Earthquake-in-Nepal

So I ask again, is it luck, a guardian angel, or intuition?  

I WILL DANCE WHEREVER I AM

Dancing along the waters edge with the sandpipers, searching for treasures that the surf leaves behind, feeling the sun warm my bare feet each time I get caught by the tidal push of water, I smile knowing how lucky I am to be here—or there…

I realize how blessed I am to be able to find happiness no matter where I am, no matter where I stand, a gift I am glad to possess.  I began to think about all those things that I can find joy in today.  Let me count the ways.

First and foremost are my family.  They have provided me the extreme of all emotions at times, but being happy with them, by them far outweighs anything else I know.

My friends are next.  Since losing Pat, I often don’t feel I have that “best or intimate” friend, but I am surrounded by a diverse group of people who manage to bring me joy when we spend time together.  I am always grateful to those who allow me to be with them—it helps keep the blues away!

My writing comforts me.  As a child, keeping things to myself was so ingrained in my soul, that being open about who I am and what I am about was hard.  Writing became my voice.  It does not matter if anyone reads it or likes it, or gets what I am trying to say.  Throwing my thoughts out to the universe frees me in ways I cannot explain.  The gift for me has been the discovery that I am alright.  I like me.

Being outdoors—in the woods—by a lake—near the ocean—standing by a waterfall—walking a trail--watching the birds—planting a garden—accepting the gifts provided by mother nature is easy and pure joy!  At times, there is not enough time in the day to do all I want to do or see all that I want to see!

Painting is play!  To paint is to be childlike—an area where I was short changed by a childhood that was taken away from me early in life.  Not anymore.  I keep the wonder of learning and exploring forefront in my activities.  Nothing stops me from playing today! 

Birds.  How can I not love birds?  They sing for me, dance for me, and entertain me in ways nothing else can.  In my life, I have always planted things around me that serve two purposes…the birds and me!  First it has to offer food or shelter up to the birds, and second it has to provide me pleasure in its existence.  I provide for them and the birds provide for me.  We make a perfect pair!

And last, but not least, music.  Nothing can carry me higher than the story of a song.  Music lifts me from sadness, will make my heart soar and take me places I didn’t know I wanted to go.  I write and paint with music in the background because it opens my mind and heart like nothing else can.

Life is an adventure and I want to enjoy it all. I know as I walk along the edge of the ocean dancing with the sandpipers, searching for the treasures that the surf leaves behind that I will dance wherever I am.

WATER SOOTHS MY SOUL

Sea Isle City, New Jersey

Thanks to Eileen and her gift of sharing her shore house, I found myself walking barefoot along the winter beach of Sea Isle City, watching the sandpipers darting along the low tide searching for their morning meal and thinking to myself how lucky I am.

It was a spontaneous decision to head down to the shore and I love what being by water does for me.  Growing up in the Midwest, we lived for a time on a lake, in Ingleside, Illinois.  Living on Long Lake, was the happiest time in my childhood.  The mesmerizing effects of living by the water never got tiring for me, but I find the roar of the ocean is a different animal.

From the first moment Pat took me to Ocean City, I was in awe by the power and force of the waves.  My joy, early on, was to be chest high in the ocean riding the gentle waves up and down.  That is until one day while vacationing in Chincoteague, Virginia.  

We decided to spend as much time at the beach as we could before the projected storm rolled in.  Pat, sitting on the shore with the three younger ones playing in the sand, while Damian, my oldest son then age 10, and I rode the waves, were having that perfect family time together when suddenly Damian and I found ourselves in water deeper than we were tall and we could no longer land on our feet on the bottom when the waves went out.  

Not being able to swim stronger than a doggy paddle, we both began to panic when we realized our feet no longer touched bottom.  

“Mom,” Damian cried out, “I’m going to drown!”

Struggling myself to just stay afloat, I could say nothing, but only felt panic.  Pat noticed that we were in trouble but locked on shore with the three younger kids, was not in a position to do anything.  At the same time, the lifeguard noticed our predicament and began to run toward us, when suddenly, a huge wave picked Damian and I up and threw us to shore, face down.  Standing up, my swimsuit at my waist, chest bleeding from the scraping on the rocky bottom of the ocean floor, Damian and I were both glad to have our feet planted on the beach.  

We learned that day about undertow and carry a healthy respect for the power of the ocean.  

I still enjoy walking on the water’s edge, smelling the sea air, watching the sandpipers darting about for food, dipping my toes in and out of the moving shoreline all the while thinking how blessed I am to be experiencing another of Mother Nature’s beautiful gifts!

Thank you, Eileen for providing me another opportunity to experience another of my favorite things.  

STORYCORP.ME

I am the gatherer of stories—the memoirist, the family historian.  My favorite past time is asking people about their life and listening to their story.  We all have one you know.  We may not be rich and famous, but we still have the life we lived, filled with our own personal challenges, successes, and our own observations on how to do it better. 

There is something beautiful about the ordinary.  The simplicity of living.  The ability to find happiness where we stand.  Peel back all the material things in life and what do you find?  Us…all of us…the same in so many ways.  Which is why I find the project by the American Folklife Center interesting.  StoryCorp.me is a beta application released to enable anyone to interview others on their life story, asking questions like “What are your dreams for me?” (assuming here it is a child asking a parent or grandparent).  “What person influenced you the most in your life?”  “What is your earliest memory?”  

StoryCorp through the American Folklife Center is archiving these interviews at the Library of Congress to enable sharing of the human experience for generations to come.

There is a browse section on the application where you can listen to the latest uploaded interviews and I found the conversations fascinating between child and parent or grandparent.  Just the fact that so many young people are taking up this activity, tells me that our youth, who we too often perceive as not caring or are uninterested, are truly interested in the stories we have to tell.  So often through the interview you hear the young person say, “I didn’t know that.  Wow that is cool, or Wow that is interesting.”  And most often it is followed by, “I am so glad you shared that with me.”

One daughter and father were taping their interview at 4 in the morning!  But listening to them banter back and forth told me that this moment would be a precious memory in the life of the young women interviewing her father.  

Another interview was a young man interviewing his 94 year old neighbor.  You could hear through the conversations how the young man and his family had bonded with this 94 year old man and how important they had become to each other’s well being.  Simple lives, led in simple ways but providing profound outcomes for each.

Yes, I love to hear the stories of how others have lived, loved, and faced their challenges.  It lets me know that what I am thinking, feeling, and doing, may be ordinary, but it is my ordinary…and that is good.

So tell me, what is your earliest memory?

Post Script:  StoryCorp.me is a free application that you can load on your phone, IPad, or computer.  Do yourself a favor, download it and hand it off to your kids and see what conversations you can start.  I promise, you will be glad you did!