All best to you and yours for 2010

All best to you and yours for 2010

First, I want to thank those of you who sent cards during this holiday season. They were each appreciated and my not finding the time to respond is not a sign that you have been forgotten. It only means that I still have the tendency that has driven me most of my life—to bite off more than I can chew. Age and the feeling that time is fast running out seems to have increased the above negative tendency, so I find myself feeling guilty about not taking more time just to relate to precious friends and feeling equally guilty that I’m not working on the latest manuscript or exercising to assure myself that I can stay ahead of the inevitable creaks and leaks. Today, when Satellite radio started playing a Christmas Vespers, I was overcome with the poignant thought that I am facing the evening of my life, and above all else, I want you friends to know that you are cherished. I then began sorting through your cards promising myself I would answer them ---later, when one from a dear-junior high school friend fell open to the simple line: “I miss you.” I cried. (I miss you, too, Johnnie)
So, here I sit, wondering what is really worth sharing. The most important is probably that David is thriving and has maintained a drug-free life for over a year. If any of you have sons struggling through the nightmare of drug or alcohol addiction, get in touch and I can highly recommend a newly opened recovery –ranch in the hills of Kentucky. I came so close to giving up on him during the past several years and made many mistakes in trying to help him. What I have learned from him is that we parents cannot afford to give up our hope or love for them—even when our hearts are breaking.
As many of you know, my prime addiction has always been books. This summer, I read the most exquisitely written and psychologically brilliant one ever--Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. It gave me a deeper understanding of the pain and grief we humans can survive and overcome --if we hold onto whatever inside us can stay open and respond to the opportunities to live with compassion for others. It is so much easier to settle into anger and negativity, but that only reduces our chances for sharing love and we forego many moments of happiness.
My buying a small cottage on a lake in Canada has definitely added to my happiness over the past 4 years, since I am a “water-bug,” and thrive close to bodies of water. The time there has allowed me to meet new friends who share “the water world,” and I’m not nearly as isolated there as I am here in Horseheads. Tim’s still addicted to planes and gliders which occupies most of his time. I used to resent this, but his preference to be with “flying things” allows me more time to be with “water- people.” Annie, his mom, is still alive –though most of her brain has deserted her. She requires quite a bit of time and attention and has inspired me to join every organization available to help me bid life adieu when I feel the time has come.
I continue to spend as much time as possible in NC as I’ve never been a good Yankee. My “heart home” has remained NC (Greensboro and the mt. house in Linville) —with the lake in Canada becoming another place my heart frequently dwells happily. Daughter Karla also loves Canada and often shares time there. We’ve gotten to know some wonderful Hutchins relatives in the area and discovered that we are directly descended from the Vikings. (Fits for me!) Karen’s daughter, Nina, graduated from Yale Un. 2 years ago and is now in medical school in Ecuador. Her brother, Matthew, is now a freshman at Loyola Un. New Orleans, while brother Michael is a high school junior in Ecuador—striving to enter Harvard in 2 years. Stephen and Evelyn continue to do well in Atlanta with Wayne. Tim, myself, my four kids, Evelyn, Wayne, Matthew, Edwin, Beth and Bud all had T’giving together at mt. house this year-- a wonderful catch-up time. (Similar to the cousin reunion last year—which I’d love to do again this year. Let me know if you are interested—and if about same time in Sept. is OK)
I have a new right knee, which has been one of the best things that could have happened for my body! I am swimming and kayaking more and have stopped trying to keep up with Tim and his buddies mt. biking (basic reason for past accidents that destroyed poor old knee-and my face!) All in all, this has been a good year. Wishing each of you good health and special times of happiness through this new one—hoping we can share some of it—with love, Paddy (Sue)

Memories, Books--and Hopes for 2009

Another year has flown by, taking another year of our lives with it and leaving us with more memories- some precious, some sad, some sweet and some bitter-sweet. Although we age over time, there are aspects of us that defy time. A dear friend, who died a few years ago at the age of 101, often said that as she aged, she grew more and more thankful for her memories. One could see the glow of a 17 year old girl as she described dancing with Arthur Murray, king of the ballroom in the early years of the past century, as if it had happened the night before. I could feel her love for her first husband when she spoke of him and her grief over his death which had happened 20 years before I knew her. We are creatures of accumulated memories, and we are survivors, filled with hope that the future will hold positive changes.
Barack Obama, the soon to be President of the United States has recorded an audio-book, The Audacity of Hope, and today, he probably hopes harder than most of us that the future will hold positive changes. He dares to hope that what bonds us together is stronger than what drives us apart. Love bonds us together. Fear, that feeds violence, drives us apart. In other words, if we focus on developing our compassion for all other human beings, we could overcome our fear of differences, work together to conserve resources and make the necessary sacrifices for our species to survive far into the future.
This week, on New Year’s Day, my husband, Tim, and I climbed a 6,200 ft. mountain on the NC/TN border. There was a biting wind, which felt as if it were trying to remove the skin from our faces, but there were moments in the sun when the wind calmed and the beauty of the surroundings made it all worthwhile. I was struck by how similar this past year resembled the climb. Then quickly had the thought that perhaps every year—or even every day—resembles the climb at some level. Regardless of all the horrendous things we endure, we have no positive option except to put one foot in front of the other—with the hope that there will be moments in the sun. What composes our moments in the sun varies and can change over the span of our lives, and yet, it is hope itself that keeps us going through adversary. We can survive pain—both physical and emotional. We survive losses that rip our hearts to shreds, but as Mark Twain said upon the death of his daughter: It is amazing how much pain the human heart can endure and continue to beat.
We hope for pain to end, but it hangs tenaciously close by--until death. Therefore, we hope to learn whatever we can from the pain, for it is a master teacher. We hope for our loved ones to survive with as little pain as possible. And yet, pain seems to be an aspect of love and life that is inescapable. Above all, we must not allow hope to end. We hope to know deep and abiding love, to feel passion and the kind of joy that comes when we are able to bring joy to another. This deep gratification of sharing joy is what allows sex to be called “making love.” We hope for the kind of immortality that comes when we are remembered by those who loved us during our time on the planet. These thoughts have dominated my mind over the past few weeks as I’ve been re-reading Immortality by Milan Kundera, a Franco-Czech novelist. His novel deeply explores our desire to be immortalized—when we each want to shout to those we will leave behind at our deaths, “forget-me-not,” our final hope.
Perhaps this is why writers write--and why we love. My hope for each of you, and for myself, during this year, is that we can discover the love and compassion that binds us together is the only force that can ultimately perpetuate our survival.
Please visit my new blog: http://paddy-loveandwar.blogspot.com/