Monday, October 31, 2011

IDEAL/REAL 03/20/00 ~ Best of....

Subj: Ideal /Real
Date: 3/20/00 10:08:08 PM Eastern Daylight Time
(this e-pistle was originally reposted on this blog on 06/20/10)

This week's Contemporary Service was given by Peter Buss, a thought-provoking presentation on Rachel & Jacob & Leah. There was a lot for me to ponder as I listened to the tape during dinner tonight.

I tend to lean heavily on what Peter described as "Rachel truths" – truths that bring to mind lofty ideals. I typically shied away from the less lovely "Leah truths" - those more mundane truths that help me see what is right in front of my nose, things that need to be done if I am to make the ideal real.

To me, love was a beautiful, spiritual ideal and it was my privilege to cherish it.

Now, I know that while that ideal is to be cherished, love is first and foremost an action verb. Love IS beautiful & spiritual ~ and it can also be a rough road to hoe, messy, inconvenient and downright confusing.

Love is the fuel & the spark that makes my ancient world go 'round.

XOXOXOXOXOX - the Gramster

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of the Gramster's birthday

Sunday, October 30, 2011

OLD AGE AIN'T FOR SISSIES 07/14/00 ~ Best of ...

Subj: Journaling III - Old age ain't for sissies
Date: 7/14/00 11:58:28 PM Eastern Daylight Time
(this e-pistle first reposted on this blog on 07/21/10)

Actually, if you manage to get to 90 relatively sound of heart, mind and body (or any combination of those three), you have accomplished something pretty unusual.

To be honest, as I have inched closer and closer to my centennial, being old has gotten somewhat easier - actually, a lot easier. In my late 80s I began to see the humor and humanity in things much more than before.

Looking back, the toughest years were when my energies were beginning to flag and my body started slowing down. My proprium - my sense of self - felt threatened as it became clear that Katharine Reynolds Lockhart was far more than just the sum of her physical parts. Moving out of that hanging-on state to one of accepting that the fixtures and fittings were coming apart was like moving out of darkness and confusion toward lightness and the light. The concept of physical being, of time and relationships, became liberated. I was beginning to get the hang of these basic changes, when I was hit by a small stroke late last September.

That small stroke speeded up the process, liberating a different “me.” My mind felt strong, my spirit felt strong. As my body started to head south, it no longer had the energy to put up a fight about being temporary or even fake being permanent. My feet drag somewhat and I move a lot more slowly than I did, but most days my spirit soars, making itself felt more and more.

Nature has forced me into more meditative states and a slower, sssllooowwwerrrr tempo. Instead of being bored to tears sitting in the big chair in the living room or in my soothing rocking chair, it is surprisingly rewarding.

The problem is that young kids - looking through the eyes of a still preening self - feel sad and think, "How dull her life must be." Too many Ancient and near-Ancient Ones come to think those young'uns are right.

A friend asked me to write about old age and make all the younger folks envious of us Ancients. Growing old, even some of the sadder aspects of it, is part of the Lord's grand scheme. Let go of time-bound prejudices and fears of growing older. Marianne Williamson says that to get to the light, a person has to work through the darkness. In middle age, life can seem dark.

Work through it toward the light. Or perhaps consider a play - the closer and closer the actors come to the curtain going up, the more experienced they get, the more polished their performance and the better able they are to improvise when needed. It is the same with life. Think of us Ancients as master thespians, waiting for the curtain to be rung up.

It is past even this night owl's bed time.

Nite-nite and God bless - A Kid at Heart

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of The Kid's birthday

Friday, October 28, 2011

SEVENTEEN 05/11/00 ~ Best of,,,

Date: Thu, 11 May 2000 07:27:49 EDT
Subject: Mindwalkers - Seventeen
(this e-pistle, first reposted on this blog on 08/13/10, is reposted ~again~ in honor of Bryn Athyn Community Theater's current production, Ayisha Synnestvedt's adaption of Booth Tarkington's Seventeen, one of the books Mom read aloud to her kids as we washed & dried dishes)

I keep looking at a photo that Elsa copied and framed and put on the hutch cabinet next to where I sit for most of the day. It is a formal yearbook photo of Pete taken when he was around 17 in his last year at Harrisburg Academy.

When I look at it, my maternal feelings make me want to put my arms around him and tell him everything will be all right. He just looks so vulnerable.

Pete's adored mother, Lillian, died when he was 12 after a lingering illness, following a stillborn birth.

Imagine how close a mother and only child would be.

Then, heaping unimaginable heartbreak on top of the tragedy of losing his mother, his father remarried in just over a year; Pete's step-mother was the woman with whom his father carried on a long-term relationship ~ including while his mother was alive. (Pete always believed that the cause of his beloved mother's death was a broken heart ~ she just gave up.)

When Pete was given his choice of prep schools, including Haverford, he chose Harrisburg Academy. It was far enough away that no one would expect him to come home over weekends.

It is not surprising, given his background, that his view of an effective family was based on stability and caring support rather than big salaries and fancy fittings.

When he fell in love with me, his step-mother told me she was so glad that I was going to marry Pete because he was starving for love.

Well, he got it, alright! It war a pleasure.

Give a loved one an extra hug for me tonight - Pete's Own True Love

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Pete's Own True Love's centenary

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Semper Perge 05/27/00 ~ Best of Mindwalker1910

Subj: Mindwalkers - Semper Perge
Date: 6/9/00 9:10:07 PM Eastern Daylight Time

(this e-pistle was first reposted on this blog on 05/27/10

Here in Bryn Athyn - where we have an elementary school, high school, junior college, senior college and theological school (with its wonderful masters program open to one & all) - the end of May and early June seems swamped with graduations. Today was 8th Grade graduation and tomorrow will be high school commencement. College graduation was over Memorial Day weekend, I believe.

I missed out on an elementary school graduation. Garrett Heights School went up to 9th grade and I was transferred after 8th grade to Eastern High School along with other "academic" students - they only kept the "business" students for 9th grade. We was gypped!

My one & only graduation was from the Academy of the New Church, which I attended for junior and senior years. The Class of 1928. Back then, and in fact until a few years ago, all the upper schools – the high school, the two colleges and the theological school - graduated at the same time.

My mother, who was living in Baltimore, sent me a beautiful dress for the Senior Dance - a short dress (remember, this was the era of the flapper and short dresses were the rage) of blue crepe de chine, with cream-colored chiffon sleeves. That was when I discovered blue was my color! I have been wracking my brain as to whether John Frazier or Phillip Odhner took me to the dance and I just cannot remember for the life of me.

My graduation dress was a similar style - white, of course, and as straight as possible falling just below the knee, with a deep hem of tiny pleats. I had lost a lot of weight the previous summer, so I looked practically fashionable.

Anita Synnestvedt (Woodard) and Beryl Caldwell (Odhner) were the fashion setters in our class. I can still see their outfits – sharp looking suits with unshaped jackets that brushed the tops of their legs over straight white skirts. I remember that Beryl's was a beautiful light brocade, which gave it extra interest. Anita and Beryl had classic taste and were what I like to call "the genuine article."

What did the boys wear? I have no recollection, but knowing who they were, they had to look pretty sharp - Dick Gladish, John Schoenberger, John Frazier, Oliver Powell and Graham Gurney are just some of my fellow graduates.

Our banner - all ANC classes have banners - was done in silver threads on a black velvet background, with the motto, "Semper Perge" - "always forward." Our class ring reflected the banner, a gold ship on a black enameled background. As I recall, it set me back around $10.00.

The Assembly Hall was not built at that time and the Asplundh Field House was many, many decades down the pike. We graduated in the DeCharms Hall auditorium, which was on the top floor at that time.

The graduating girls' families would present them with flowers. My parents were not able to be at the ceremony, so I did not expect to have a bouquet. Peggy Cowley (Schiffer), who was all of around 12 years old, was very sad that I would not have a bouquet, so the dear wonderful girl made me a bouquet of roses out of her family's garden. No other bouquet could have been carried with more pride or happiness.

I remember the music as we, the graduating class, marched in – Edward Elgar's "Land of Hope & Glory." I felt like nobility walking into that.

As the senior girls were seated for the graduation ceremony, the junior girls came up and stood behind us and entwined our hair with a wreath of ribbons and flowers. I kept that wreath for a long time.

I received my degree from the Girls School headmistress, Dorothy Davis. Elsa asked me to describe "Dodo" - she was Clara Davis Pitcairn's twin sister and, like her sister, Miss Dorothy could be very abrupt and direct, never one to pull her punches. She was not out to win a popularity contest; her eye was always on the prize of making sure "the girls" got a top notch New Church education.

Elsa asked me what I would say to the graduating Class of 1928 - or 2000, for that matter - if I had the chance. I would tell them what my father always said, "When you stop learning, you are dead." I would tell them to continue their education, whether in college or not. Some of the "brightest and best" people with degrees and advanced degrees know squat compared to less "highly educated" folks with a good sense of people and common sense. That they should welcome change. To not give themselves airs, to take themselves lightly. In short, remember "Semper Perge" - -"always forward."

Nite-nite and God bless, with special love to Kelly, Carl, Meg and any other graduates who are dear to my heart that I might be leaving out. - - The Gramster

reposted with sweet memories of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka DEEV

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

CANBERRA 07/31/00 - Best of Mindwalker

Date: Mon, 31 Jul 2000 23:58:38 EDT
Subject: Canberra
(this e-pistle was first reposted 07/31/10 – ten years to the day after it was composed)

As I was writing about Williamsburg, my thoughts kept turning to the capital of Australia, Canberra. (Whenever he saw my notes, John would joke that I was misspelling cranbury. That John, he is a cheeky one.)

Kerry and Mike took myself and the kids to Canberra to visit Barry & Christine Ridgeway (Gretchen, I believe she is a relative of Ruth's) and to show off their capital.

It is impossible to describe Canberra, which did not even exist at the beginning of the century. I was surprised to find out that it was designed by an American. It has a beautiful location. Unlike Sydney, Canberra is surrounded on all sides by land, land and more land. It somehow feels like it was carved out of nature. Magical. Like Sydney, it has a unique energy and, like Sydney, Canberra is unlike any other place on earth.

The architecture ranges from very, very modern Government House to the Williamsburg-inspired US Embassy. It is fitting to have Williamsburg's Georgian style as an embassy, since late colonial Wiliamsburg and early colonial Australia were contemporaries.

Mike had picked up three loaves of sourdough bread back in Sydney – one for the ambassador, one for his secretary, and one for us to nibble on the way. We had the honor of meeting the ambassador and his wife. I do not remember his name, but her first name was Elkin - very unusual. This was during Jimmy Carter's presidency and as I recall the ambassador was a southerner and you know how those southerners can make you feel pretty special.

We had a wonderful time. At night, Mike and Kerry would go off for a quiet dinner on their own while I kept an eye on Scott and Karen. After they got home, it was my turn to go out to dinner. By that time, I was ready for a little piece and quiet and did not feel the bit ill used by eating by myself. The silence was golden.

Silence brings to mind the Hall of Memory - the war memorial - which is what I remember best of all. To stand in that graced place that honored those who fell in Australia's wars - there was a feeling of awe unlike anything I had felt before or since.. I felt close to the other world and the tears came. Everyone there was silent.

Love to you all from a suddenly hushed KRL.

With special thoughts and love to Carolyn, who loves Canberra - Grandma L.

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Nan’s birth

Monday, October 24, 2011

NEW HOPE, NOW & THEN 02/24/00 ~ Best of Mindwalker

Subj: WOMEN: Mindwalkers ~ New Hope, now & then
Date: 2/24/00 11:37:56 PM Eastern Daylight Time
(this 02/24/00 e-pistle was first reposted 05/21/10 in celebration of what would have been the gramster's 100th birthday)

Just back - at 10:10 p.m. ~ from a toot with Elsa up to New Hope. She took a bottle of sparkling nectar up as a surprise for friends who will be staying at a stunning inn for the weekend. A favorite R&R spot for John & Elsa, it is built within the ruins of a old mill. I went inside last spring with Elsa & Gail Cooper and it is a knock out. Dramatic ruins and dramatic interiors, yet somehow it was cozy. There was a warmth there.

Heading up, we talked about this time - was it really 63 years ago? - when Pete & I were planning our wedding. We thought New Hope would be a just-right place to spend our honeymoon. Apparently we were way ahead of our time, because when I went to the travel agency at the department store I worked at (yes, department stores really did have travel agencies in those days), the person looked at me like I had suggested Mars would be nice. "No one goes to New Hope. There's not even any place to stay."

Well, Pete & I knew that could not be so. New Hope was too charming not to have overnight lodgings. Back then, it really and truly was a bohemian artist's colony, with a special feeling about it that disappeared long before many of you were a gleam in your parents' eyes. We knew it was the place for us. So, one Sunday we packed up a picnic lunch and headed to Wayne Junction and the one train that went to New Hope. One train up in the morning, one train back at night.

We had a wonderful time traipsing all over New Hope that day. We settled down along side the canal and ate our lunch and talked about our wedding and our future. It was an idyllic day. Unfortunately, the travel agent knew of what he spoke - we could not find so much as ONE place for overnight visitors to stay. It was a great day and a great disappointment, at the same time. And it seems like yesterday.

Best wishes on you all. I am headed up the wooden hill ~ M/G/N/K/AK

(reposted with sweet memories of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy, aka DEEV)


Sunday, October 23, 2011

M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E ~ ~ Best of Mindwalker1910

Subj: M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E
Date: Fri Nov 10 21:00:17 EST 2000
(first reposted 12/13/10 in celebration of what would have been the gramster's 100th birthday; selected to commemorate Whitney & Chad taking the girls on their 1st visit to DisneyWorld earlier this month ~ great way to celebrate Chad's 40th!!)

When I think about going to the various parts of DisneyWorld, I feel overwhelmed. It was such a... well, such a big experience is the best way to express what is in my heart. I expected to have a really good time, I did not expect to be as moved as I was.

First of all, understand that this place really did seem like the happiest place on Earth. In the four+ days we were in DisneyWorld, I did not see a single parent snap at a child, nor did I hear a single child whine or complain.

When I think of the children, I think of the little kids who were having the time of their lives with these water jets that came up through the pavement in one part of Epcot. I can see the smiles and hear the great hoots of glee. What a memory.

I see the little children gathered around the storyteller in the "England" part of Epcot as he leaned on his staff and spun a tale.

I see the children - and the parents and the grandparents - when they spotted Pluto or Tigger or Donald Duck or the biggest and best of them all - Mickey himself - walking around.

I was there and Elsa was there, but in my heart so were Mim and Ian, both of whom watched the Mickey Mouse Club back in the 1950s. Mim was a bit old for that sort of thing, being in her early teens, but she did so much with the "Top Yard" kids - Roses, Grubbs and Lockharts - and other neighborhood children, watching Mickey Mouse Club was an extension of her interaction with them. Yes, both Mim and Ian were very much with me.

Ever since Pete and I went to England, I dreamed of going there with Elsa. We might not ever make it across the Atlantic together, but we did make it to the Rose & Crown, a pub that certainly seemed like a bit of transplanted England. We sat outside and had the jolliest waitress. We have a picture of her with yours truly, both of us grinning away like mad. Elsa and I ordered a sampler of ales along with our ploughman's lunch. Between the two of us, we polished off those ales quite easily. Time out of time and place out of place. What a gal that waitress was - I can't remember which part of England she was from. but the memory of her sets me smiling. My blessings to her, wherever she may be.

Elsa "blew the wad" by staying at Wilderness Lodge so that I could have the freedom of staying put where we were and still experiencing DisneyWorld - or - adventuring a field. As you have heard, I definitely went adventuring. However, if I had to pick my favorite spot in all of DisneyWorld, it would be Wilderness Lodge. I loved going out onto our balcony and seeing trees stretching out as far as my eyes could see. I loved sitting in that stunning yet cozy great hall. I enjoyed the people.

The 10th annual Teddy Bear Convention was taking place in DisneyWorld at the same time we were there. One evening, Elsa and I headed to the bar in Wilderness Lodge for a nightcap. As we sat there, talking, with my small black bear, Sasha, with us on the table, an attractive couple who looked to be in their 40s came up. They asked if we were there for the convention. It took me a moment to realize that the man was tenderly holding an even smaller bear in his hands. Yes, we were definitely among our own kind.

I loved the fact that Elsa bought us plastic travel coffee mugs that I could refill for free as many times as I liked. I loved watching the families walking to and fro, always happy. I loved the great care the staff took keeping everything neat and tidy. I loved looking up and up and up at carved eagles and bears and other animals tucked here and there through that magnificent structure. I loved the awesome - an understatement - fireplace. I loved every nook and cranny of that magical place. All I have to do is close my eyes and I am back in its shelter and I am happy and smiling.

This smiling Grammie is heading up the wooden hill, with loving thoughts of
DisneyWorld and you to keep me company.

Nite nite and God bless.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

DONA NOBIS PACEM (05/29/00) ~ Best of Mindwalker1910

Subj: Dona nobis pacem
Date: 5/29/00 12:18:46 PM Eastern Daylight Time
From: Mindwalker1910
(first reposted 05/31/10 in celebration of what would have been the gramster's 100th birthday)

It is 11:15 a.m. and a crowd of Bryn Athynites are gathered at the flag pole in Boro Park to honor our nation's veterans. The cathedral overlooks the ceremonies from atop its hill.

I miss the ceremony. Every Memorial Day, Pete and I would get the kids ready, load up the buggy if there was a little one, and off we would go, up Alden Road, up the Black Path, to South Avenue and across to the park. Now, as back then, there are speeches, the Boys Scouts march, the Girls Club leaves a wreath at the memorial, everyone will join in singing the national anthem, a group from a near by VFW post will fire off a volley in memory of those who fell, someone will play "Taps" in the distance, and there will be a moment of silence. I am with them all today, if only n my heart.

For some still inexplicable reason, one year they asked Elsa to speak. She wasn't a veteran, wasn't a teach or community leader. Apparently, the person scheduled to speak fell through and the head of the selection committee worked at Prudential and so did Elsa and they ran into each other at the elevator and the other person saw her opportunity and took it. Elsa, never one to turn down a chance at a "jolly pulpit," came on board.

Elsa was 8-years old when Mike joined the Navy. He served in the Reserve while in high school and got his active uniform almost as soon as he got his diploma. The slogan is "Join the Navy and see the world." Mike did. He had the great good fortune to be a plank owner (original crew) of the nuclear-powered aircraft carrier USS Enterprise, on which he made two tours of duty of the Mediterranean. But what stopped our hearts back home was when the Enterprise took part in the Cuban Blockade during the Cuban missile crisis. That was scary. Mike and his shipmates were part of anuclear-powers showdown on our very doorstep that had us on the brink of unimaginable war. Like we had in the Great War and World War II, back home we waited and prayed.

Elsa's talk at Boro park focused on those uncertain times, times which most of the adults standing around the flag pole could remember in some way, and how it was for those of us waiting, waiting, waiting. She threw in her favorite bits of Lincoln, including doing right as we see the right. Then she did a gutsy thing - she lead the gathering in song. Elsa does not have a pitch-perfect voice, so I was startled when she came out with the request to sing. She got us all into singing the round, "Dona Nobis Pacem." It was pretty raggy, but we did it. Mim and I knew as soon as we heard Elsa invite everyone to join in that it was more than simply appropriate to the moment, that the tribute was pulled from a family-favorite M*A*S*H episode that honored Father Mulcahey and his work of peace among the ravages of war.

May you all have a memorable Memorial Day, whatever flag your service men and woman serve under. May the Lord continue to "Give us peace."

Love - Mum L.

<< My thanks to Lori Nelson (and loving thoughts of her parents, especially Lou) for the words to "Taps" ~ "Day is done, gone the sun, from the lake, from the hills, from the sky. All is well, safely rest, God is nigh..." >>

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

In Praise of My Menfolk (02/23/00) ~ Best of Mindwalker1910

Subject: Fwd: Mindwalkers ~ in praise of my menfolk
Date: Wed, 23 Feb 2000 20:50:21 EST
(first reposted 02/25/11 in celebration of what would have been the gramster's 100th birthday)

In looking ahead to my March 7 surgery and recuperation, today I did what any right thinking woman of my generation would do - got my hair done.

John took me to the hairdresser, who has been doing my tresses for the past 40 years, gently helped me up the stairs and did not leave until he was sure I was safely tucked away in the beautician chair. When he picked me up, there was a little time for Jo and John to get to know each other. It seems that every woman I know takes to John right off and he takes to them. He settled me in the car, then headed back into the beauty parlor. Well, I was beginning to get "worried", when he reappeared about 5 minutes later - with a stack of magazines under his arm that Jo thought we'd like perusing.

When I look at John, I cannot help but think of my dear husband, Pete. Actually, his name was Raymond Lewis Lockhart, but his uncle took one look at him in his baptismal gown and exclaimed, "He's not a Raymond, he's a Pete!" And Pete he was from that day forward.

I know that we are not supposed to make spiritual judgements, but I just know in my heart that my loves will someday be fully reconjoined with the loves that are my Pete. He made me feel so special, so cherished and appreciated.

It has been 26 years since Pete died and I miss him every day - morning, noon & night. ("All I do the whole day through is dream of you.") From the day we met in 1935, it seemed we knew the other was THE one. Pete was so shy, the fellow who brought him to the party slipped one of my mother's silver teaspoons into his pocket so that Pete would have to call me again. But he was never shy with me. From the first kiss to our last in this life, he was my ardent lover and loyal best friend.

I just came across an everyday Christmas gift tag - about 1 1/2 " square with a mug of holly against a red backdrop - that was on a long-ago present. The tag is anything but everyday to me: "Kay ~ So little a thing to express all the strengths that are mine through your love and affectionate understanding. Pete"

Love to all - M/G/N/AK/K

Monday, October 17, 2011

from 10/30/00 ~ Tonche

Subj: Tonche
Date: Mon Oct 30 08:32:43 EST 2000

Almost a month without a posting from me. All is well. In fact, all is beyond the beyond. I think that the reason I haven’t written is because words are inadequate to describe what I have experienced this month.

Miracles do happen.

Earlier this month, I attended the Women’s Weekend at Tonche (outside of Woodstock, NY). I wanted to go last year, had planned on going, but could not make it because I was still recuperating from my “episode.”

This year, I got there.

It is awful, the way that words fail me when I am most deeply, deeply moved. My vocabulary does not include the words to describe what I saw and felt over that remarkable weekend. I felt totally wrapped up in love.

It was a weekend filled with old and new friends, renewed energies, and an unexpected chance to get in a good visit with my older daughter, Mim. I do not know who was more surprised to see the other person there – Mim or me! My age made it almost unthinkable that I would actually get there and keep going under my own steam for the whole time; Mim’s lack of transportation and own physical challenges make it equally challenging for her. What a blessing that we both overcame any obstacles to be there, in the heart of caring women.

Elsa was informed right off the bat by Deanna Nelson Odhner that she and the others would take care of me over the weekend. I felt like a mountain woman version of the Queen of Sheba, with my every wish and want taken care of. So much love, wonderful homemade food AND a view of the Catskills that would knock your socks off.

The one thing that I am going to share is a realization that came during ”sharing” time with the small circle of women I met with in the morning and evening. I had, over the two days, discussed bits and pieces of my life. I think it was on the second evening – or maybe it was on the last morning – that I mentioned that life had been easy on me. One of the young woman looked at me in disbelief and blurted out, “Mrs. Lockhart, from what you’ve described, your life has been anything but easy!” That got me thinking – it feels like the right word to describe my life is “easy,” but I can see what she meant. Perhaps “fortunate” is better.

One of the key blessings to come out of the weekend has been the gift of seeing things in a new light, with a richer awareness and a deeper appreciation. For 2 ½ days, I basked in the happiness of being there with both of my daughters. I developed new friendships, especially with Julie Conaron, and increased the depth of old ones, particularly with Deanna.

I was up every morning bright and early and down to Danna’s house in plenty of time for breakfast, and I stayed up until the end of each program/discussion group. I felt strong mentally, spiritually and physically.

I said I was going to go and I went!

If only I could share all that was in my heart, all the images in my mind – what a glorious posting this would be!

Love to one and all, especially to my fellow mountain women – The Queen of Sheba (aka Grammie)

(first reposted 10/30/10 in celebration of what would have been the gramster's 100th birthday)

Sunday, October 16, 2011


Much to my own surprise, I took a hiatus between when Mom took that final fall and her memorial celebration, which I mistakenly recalled as today, October 16. (This morning, realized I'd flipped her dates - she was reunited with her O! Best Beloved on September 16 and her memorial was October 14, although I'll always & forever associate it with October's middle Sunday.)

Maybe it was too tender to be sharing her postings, my updates over those very tender days.

What I do know for absolute sure is how powerfully my mother has influenced my life in many marvelous, even miraculous ways over these past ten years, which closed - for me - today. Looking back at all I experienced, being mindful of the very active hand she seemed to have in so many of its best aspects, most revealing moments & expanding opportunities, am reminded again of what I said when Mom passed from us - "Mom didn't have a lot to leave as an inheritance. What she left is much like those old drawings that were once popular at store openings or special events ~ you had to be present to win."

And if you pushed me to say whether I do or don't believe she had an active hand in all that has happened over the past ten years that have lead me to such a glorious embarkation point to the rest of forever, I'd have to answer yes. If only because... of what I can't express. It resides in a heavenly realm.

So, now the hiatus is over. For the next month or so - as I wait for Michael David to send me the COMPLETE set of Mom's Mindwalker1910 postings - expect a reposting of "Best of Mindwalker" musings. And may heavenly blessings be on you all!