Abundant Heart

My heart filled again and again in the week before Christmas, this year. It all began with Occupy Christmas. For a time, I didn't think it was going to be possible to pull off our annual Christmas party, but with the creative thinking of four people, the event was more than I hoped for. My heart was so full with the sound of family after the party that I had trouble going to sleep. What I didn't know was how much that party set the stage for the rest of the week as each day found me doing and experiencing things I never thought possible.

On Monday, Clare and Mary Autumn spent the afternoon with us. Four-year-old Clare is a delightful chatterbox, but my heart melted in conversation with Mary Autumn. As Clare hung out chatting with Cindy, Mary Autumn and I colored and talked-- truly talked. Eight-year-olds aren't usually interested in how their grandmothers spend their days, but Mary Autumn's curiosity was deeply sincere when she said, "What did you do before we came over today?" Her mature inquiry was matched with careful listening and questions about my broken car which I'd taken for repairs and the chores I'd performed. What a joy to find a sympathetic ear in this young granddaughter.

On Tuesday evening, I joined a powerful clan of women for dinner. Each woman had served as Faculty Senate President at the local college, and the group meets three times a year to discuss the challenges of leadership and celebrate successes. After retiring from the college, I stopped attending these gatherings, but one of the gals reminded me that I am always welcome and encouraged me to join the party this year. A surge of energy pulsed in my heart in the presence of all this glowing feminine power. Wit, intelligence, and camaraderie were abundant at the table. I'd misplaced this measure of commanding influence and was thrilled to partake again.

On Wednesday, I enjoyed two heart boosters. At Masters swim practice, I didn't think it was possible to swim six 100s faster than my base time, but nestled in the middle of four lane mates, I gave the task my all and surprised myself with the speed I needed. Later I met with Write-on Women, my writers group. Despite icy roads and December demands, eight creative women made this meeting a priority. Being in the company of others--be it writers or swimmers-- injects my heart with a can-do spirit when most of me is screaming "I don't want to!."

Thursday was a heart melting day all day. My 35 year-old son Raleigh volunteered to accompany me on the three hour drive to San Francisco to see my 90-year-old Uncle Buddy who is in the hospital with delirium and severe back pain. Raleigh infused the trip with his philosophy of love. The city of my birth was beautiful beyond belief from the first clear sighting on the 580 to unsurpassable views from the Chapel in the VA Hospital. Uncle Buddy was sweetly demented in his brown beanie addressing me as the 12 year old he once knew. I held his hand-- deeply veined and pearly translucent-- while Raleigh prayed until Uncle Buddy sank back into his chair and slept. So dear is the arc of life.

Friday night, my dharma buddies had an end-of-the-world-party. The instructions were to wear something we never get to wear and bring a gift to recycle. We also each brought specialty foods for an elegant potluck dinner served on china with crystal glasses and silver flatware. Twelve gorgeous women dressed to the hilt, enjoyed a stellar meal from an amazing table and engaged in several hours of noble conversation. We were prepared to go out on a superior moment! My heart was buoyant with promise and no need to know what would come next.

Saturday was a heart-opening yoga workshop, in which the instructor Rocky Heron had no doubt that students could do things they previously did not think possible. And so with his help, I did my first handstand at age 64. I was overwhelmed, grinning and crying at the same time. My heart was wide open as I headed home to find dear Cindy sweetening the house with her presence, her love of the holidays, and her boundless energy on behalf of our family. Hers is a love that always lifts me higher!

It's risky to step out in the world with my heart wide open, but this week, open-heartedness allowed all manner of joy and love to flow in.

Yard Work

My yard is too big and my dreams far outreach my abilities. That's why I'm grateful for grandson Cody who is both smart and strong. Add to the mix Culley's 1/2 ton diesel truck, and I got a lot of yard work done this weekend.

Cody and I, along with neighbor Becky, hauled and shoveled a truckload of fill dirt. Then we picked up a load of railroad ties and dropped half in my yard and half in Becky's yard. Then Cody replaced the spark plug in my lawn mower and coaxed the machine to life after its winter in the shed. He mowed upper and lower lawns and also helped me replace hoses and plan and measure for the retaining wall project.

I love working outside, but it's always more fun with good-natured assistance. (I still needed a 2 hour nap when we were finished. All the help in the world can't compensate for 60 years of living.)

Post Surgery Update

This note at 9pm from Wendy A.'s sister Robyn who is at UCSF with the gals:

Good News! All went very well with the surgery for both Wendy's. They ended up with THE best team here: W P's doc has an outstanding reputation, and W A got the HEAD of the transplant department, Dr. Ascher. Google her - she's pretty impressive!

W P's doc reported that she had a beautiful kidney, and she was doing very well post surgery. W A's doc said everything went very well, and now they are waiting for a post op ultrasound to check progress. They'll both be in recovery for another 2 to 3 hours before coming back up to their rooms. We won't know anything more until then, and tomorrow will be a day of watching reactions, getting fluids back into their bodies, and beginning to walk.

Thank you all for your support and positive energy that you've been sending to them today. On the part of Wendy Archer's family, we are so thankful to Wendy Pound for being willing to become part of our family!

Andrea's Table

The lovely Andrea attracted the most amazing array of people to a Thanksgiving table that dissected her living room. A burgundy stripped cloth and red napkins invited guests to gather at length for the feast.

In addition to Culley, Huck and Nell, the extended family who counted among the guests included Cindy and I, Uncle John and Lee, Uncle Andy and Aunt Connie. Andrea's friend Russell, who was her roommate when she and Culley connected, was there with his family, Michelle, Griffin, and Holly. Also from the Portland set but now living in Madison WI came Meg with her daughter Niamh (pronounced Neve). Meg's sister is currently living in Berkeley, and she came up from the Bay Area with three friends from France: Marie, Mathew, and Paul (I think that was his name). Another of Andrea's friends, William, came from Sacramento with a cousin and her boyfriend from North Carolina as well as a Nepalese woman (whose name I can't spell or pronounce).

This cosmopolitan mix joined in preparing a delicious variety of food, including the traditional turkey and stuffing (from Erin's & Meg's mother's recipe). There was also a roasted ham, roasted purple potatoes and carrots, mashed potatoes and gravy, mashed sweet potatoes, and a salad with raddichio, greens, sliced apple, celery, pistachios and a cheese that I can't remember. Added to this was our saurekraut and jello salad and dinner rolls. There were bottles of wine from Italy, France, and California along with pitchers of delicious well water with floating lemons.

Then came dessert: homemade apple and pumpkin pie (prepared exquisitely by Michelle), almond torte (by Connie), choclate mousse, brownies (by Cindy), vanilla ice cream and whipped cream accompanied by rich dark coffee and piping hot tea.

In true Andrea tradition, the meal was savored as folks sat at the table eating slowly and talking, talking, talking. Two hours at the table with marvelous food and this diverse, congenial company made for a memorable Thanksgiving feast.

Time Marches On

Thirty-one years ago, my friend Julia and I shared a home. We each had newborn sons, and for the next several years we watched our boys grow until Julia moved to another abode. The two boys, however, retained a lasting friendship, and now they have babies of their own. Last night, we met at Julia's for a reunion dinner. Here are two pictures: first, the proud Mamas with their grown sons and second, the proud Dads with their children.

My Friend Mic

What a pleasure to witness my friend Mic debut as conductor of Symphony of the Sierra this weekend.

I first met Mic in the 80s when she was publishing a local literary magazine. As a fledgling writer, I wanted desperately to be published in this magazine. Alas, I was a day late for the magazine was folding, but Mic wrote the kindest of letters explaining that had she continued producing the magazine, she most certainly would have published my piece. Not long after, I met Mic in person at a poetry reading where she performed her signature "act" of soliciting words from the audience and composing a poem on the spot from the words tossed her way. In short order, Mic made an impression on me. I recognized a talented, generous, and creative human being.

Since that time, our paths have crossed numerous times at poetry readings and in writing classes and groups. When Mic was completing an online degree, I facilitated her exams at the college. When I was preparing to publish my book, she lent her photographic expertise to the cover design. Two of my grand-kids have taken music lessons from Mic, and I've enjoyed summer performances at the Jamestown Park given by the volunteer band she organized and led.

I was also among the guests at a party that celebrated Mic as the recipient of the prestigious Mr. Holland's Opus Foundation award for commitment to teaching children to play and enjoy music. Mic had received the $10,000 award at Carneige Hall in New York before friends gathered locally to applaud her.

So it was with great pleasure that I attended the Winter Concert of the Symphony of the Sierra and Mic's debut as conductor. WHOA!! There are not words to describe the manner in which the music infused me with emotion. Always moved by the sound of the violin, I wept through the first piece, a string quartet by Tchaikovsky. From there, the sound took me from poignant to joyous, from foot-tapping to heart-pounding.

Mic had pulled together an unusual array of musicians and melded them into a truly fine orchestra. Watching her conduct with enthusiasm, intelligence, and grace was the frosting on the cake of one terrific afternoon.

Mic is one of my most remarkable friends: creative and gentle and unbelievable compassionate. And she is giving our community a sublime gift as conductor of Symphony of the Sierra.