Winds of Change

The wind has been howling here in Maine since Saturday morning. Saturday was a wild day. The kind of day that prompts you to get the oil lanterns from the basement and to replace flashlight batteries...just in case. The rain has stopped but the wind is still throwing leaves and campaign signs around like confetti. The kind of wind that destroys the most perfectly coiffed hair in mere moments.

This wind seems to have also blown the seed of an idea into my brain. It was actually my daughter Samantha who prompted me to tell the stories. She and I went out to dinner on Friday night to celebrate her birthday. A fancy restaurant. White linen table clothes, clairvoyant waiters, heavenly food. And during the meal I told her about a trip I took to England in 1980 with my grandmother. Later that night I found myself rummaging through my file drawers looking for my written account of that journey. And during my travels through those packed file drawers I stumbled upon the file folder of stories that my grandmother had written about her early life.

Since then I have immersed myself in her stories and remembered anew what a fine writer and amazing woman she was. She loved history and of all of her 13 grandchildren, I was the only one who caught the bug. My major in college was U.S. History. To this day I read history for pleasure.

Granny started to write her memoirs about 10 years before she passed. There are only a dozen stories in all but they are wonderful. And I have decided to transcribe, edit and compile them for the rest of my family.

It is strange but the thought of this project has lightened my mood. Part of my malaise of late has been a feeling of restlessness. Of being stuck. Well, this little project is just what I need to get "unstuck".

And thank you all again for your love and support. Blue, have no fear, I did not stop the meds cold turkey. And I am learning to live with the sadness.