The last time I was here at Sara and Ian's house in Hallowell, Maine was Monday, August 26. I remember that day after our ten day summer stay. Doug went off to fish on the river. He always has to get in a "one more time". Our flight on Cape Air left from Augusta to Boston at 2pm so there was time. Sara had to return to work and Ian would escort us with our bags. But as Doug went for his "one more time" I did too. I walked up the street to Vaughn Woods. This is a beautiful park with hiking trails and creek. As I walked there were a few lefts and rights and not knowing the park well I was not sure where I was going. The next fellow who ended up on my path became my direction guide. I asked a few questions and he said, "well I need to turn around any way so I will walk with you and show you". Seemed fine to me. As we walked I learned that he had grown up not far from the park. He was maybe a little older than I and talkative and friendly. He reminisced about other times in Hallowell and told me some of the history of the Kennebec River when there was no consciousness about the destructive nature of chemicals and pollution. The river was dying and the community rose up and the factories and lumber industry had to clean it up. Now after many years it is in a pretty healthy state but it is still not recommended to eat any fish. It was a wonderful walk and chance encounter with a local. Doug had a great fishing morning and I had my walk so we were ready to head home with our memories of fun times in Maine with Sara and Ian and a plan for me to return in January when their babycake was to arrive.

We were home in Livermore at about 10pm that night. The next day was to be a hot one so I went for a walk with "Jack" early. Still filled with good feelings and happy memories of our trip out east Jack and I ventured on our regular route. About half way through my life suddenly changed. A simple crack in the sidewalk concrete had bulged up about 1 1/2 inches or so, not much, right in front of my right foot. I did not see it but my foot met it, tripping me. I can remember those very few moments or it was just a second or so when I was precariously going in the wrong direction, down. I thought about breaking my fall but saw there was no way to do that and boom I landed on my right side. It felt like a hard fall but it did not hurt. I just instantly realized it was not good. I said quite loudly, "Ow, Ow, Ow!"  I had let go of Jack and as I rolled onto my back I reached for his leash and my phone which also had fallen. After a quick assessment I knew that I was not getting up on my own. I was not sure what happened but something did. Instantly I called Doug, "I fell on my walk. I need you, come and get me. I probably broke my leg." I gave him directions on how to find me lying on the ground a bit hidden by landscaping on either side of the sidewalk. Not to labor with too much detail about this incident I was rescued by Doug and the paramedics who lifted me gingerly with a scooper onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. I love paramedics, just saying.

Keenly aware that I could not move and would not move it was obvious this was not a simple break. At the hospital I was xrayed and examined. I met the orthopedic surgeon on call that morning. He told me I had "broken my hip"! Really? Well then, since I can not move, and please do not make me move, what are you going to do about that? Since I broke the ball on top of my femur he decided the best course of action was to replace it. Oh sure just take it will you please and get me back to my healthy state of being so I can walk again. I was ready for this plan to happen. It must have been some of the drugs, but I just knew I had to do what ever had to be done to get to the other side and no resistance was the best policy to get there.

That was over 4 months ago now. I have had a major surgery, half hip replacement and am at least 92% recovered. There is more to go. Must say that percentage estimate changes from day to day. Some days are better than others. But I can go for walks again. I am walking again in Maine on the same streets but now with a reconstructed leg part and in a different season. It was beautiful here then and it is beautiful here now.

This garden is up the road as it was in Summer and is now in Winter....I noticed the two chairs have not moved. The seasons have changed but they are still there inviting you to sit for a while. Isn't that what we learn when big change happens? Or is it what we are supposed to learn?

What if we just sit in our chairs as change happens? As summer gives way to autumn and then to winter and we just simply watch. As we experience change in our lives in so many ways including breaking our hip. We know that change is inevitable. Some change we can expect and know it is coming. Some change we do not know. It just happens. How do we respond? Do we run around trying to make it stop? Sometimes we do, we have to, it is all too painful or it is so desirable we want it to go on for ever. But this is what nature teaches us, summer will always become autumn and then winter and then spring and then summer. We can participate in its appreciation and have a tall cool one sitting in the chair in the summer or a warm steamy one in the winter. Peaceful acceptance of our life no matter what we are presented with requires taking the seat. Not a choice we many times take willingly, sometimes we are forced to sit but if we do just quiet ourselves for a few moments and watch, we can learn.

Hmmmm last time I was here I was me and then now I am me too, even though a lot has happened in between. Yes, something to contemplate. Not sure of the realization I should have but I am happy I am still here even though I changed in a way I never expected when last here. I appreciate the great good fortune of my life to have good medical care and a loving husband to get me through. Love those chairs up the street. I hope they are there when I come again in the Spring.

I am so glad that there are two chairs in that garden because life is so much better when you observe and participate and appreciate with someone else, a friend, a partner, a daughter, a son in law or I can not wait, a grandchild.

It has been a mild winter in Maine this year. The last two winters I would check my phone daily to see temperatures unknown to my California temperament. It could be many digits below 0. I would imagine on those days my Dr. daughter rising before dawn to go out in that frigid air to work at the hospital or clinic. I could see her true nature so strong and independent. Such a natural beauty of kindness and with a strength that she will always do what needs to be done no matter what the challenge. Even so from a distance I would cringe at those temperature readings and worries that only cross a mother's mind would fill me. But, distance is helpful in those times. Letting go of what you can not control is the healing mantra of a mother. And in the years since both of my daughters have grown to be strong very independent and dependable women I understand my mother, her worries and her attachment to me so much more than ever. Wish mom was here so that I could tell her that.

But this morning it arose again in me, that primal thing, that empowering force that compels mothers to always protect their children no matter what age, what ability, what proven independence and strength they may have already shown. I am not sure where it begins but a mother sniffs for danger. I am sure this is not the first impulse when becoming a mother but it begins very early. The first impulse is love, ecstatic love beyond what you thought possible. And with that love is the first of the continuous lessons of letting go from the moment that child is born from your womb. It is no longer so close that only you can feel its movements or feed its needs from your own blood and body. The intimacy will never be the same as when your child is born and then begins the journey of his/her own self discovery. But the job of the mother is essential, crucial, life sustaining. At all costs you will protect, you will nurture and you will love that child from conception to forever.

I can only discuss what I experience with any authority but I have seen this quality of mother protection in most mothers I have known. I would think we all can relate it to being as a bear, a mother bear, who will roar and charge at what ever or whoever threatens our cubs. And this is for those things real and imagined. It is the later, those that are imagined that can trouble a mother and ruin her day and of course the real are the real and terrifying too. I know you know. Will he/she fall? Will he/she get sick? Will....it just happens in a mother's mind. Then it is our job to weed through this garden of thoughts. Which are worth the concern and which are not. What can I do about this and can not do anything about that and which do I just ignore. You know very well especially during the teen years you must make a pact with yourself that you will avert your eyes and plug your ears selectively so that your child can grow and make mistakes on their own. You will be there to pick up the pieces but unless you allow room to fall your children will never grow. This is not to say how torturous it is at times to just have faith and at others it is all ok and you are just filled with pride. Motherhood is not an easy job. Some of us do these things "better" than others and most of us want to do it "right"!

This morning it is 9 degrees outside! That is cold for my California tooshi. Daughter Sara has spent the last few days in and out of pre labor wishing and hoping for the real work to begin. This morning she had an early appointment. And it happened, that voice inside the head, that twist in the heart, that sinking feeling in the gut. She, the fine, the independent, dependable, strong,smart Dr. daughter is going out in that cold to drive a distance by herself. Only a mother can understand! She needs someone, what if? What if? And she would be there in the cold. Maybe there would be no signal for the cell phone. Maybe her car would slide from the road. Maybe there would be a flat tire. Maybe there would be a teen driver unexperienced and hit her car....What if? You know the drill. She told Ian no need to go. She told me no need to go. And there it was, I had to say it as my skin was growing the fur coat of a momma bear, "You need to have someone with you in your delicate condition. What if something happened? Wouldn't you tell your patients the same thing?" Oh boy, I said it. And Ian went with her.

As I said, this feeling will never go away, it is from birth to forever. I understand that now mom. Wish I did more so when you were here with me on the planet. But, you also know your wise and smart kids (adults) will be fine. They have made good choices up to now or if they made mistakes they are trying to learn from them. Trust, yes I can trust them but the rest of the world to protect them as I would, well, I am much less trusting. It is the letting go thing. I have said for so long now the job of mom is to let go. From the moment that baby is born out of your body you must learn to let go. Soon I am going to witness the beginning of this love affair with my daughter, her husband and their child. And I also get to witness the experience of the grandmother that is from what I am told phenomenal and wonderful and different. Can not wait......Neither can she.....

The view from this window looking out on a New England landscape with lite fairy snow flakes doing a sky dance makes me know I am no longer in California for the time being anyway...I am in Maine now at my daughter Sara and son-in-law Ian's home waiting for our babycake to arrive. Their first child and my and Doug's first grandchild. I am making this room my own for a month. There are many mixed feelings. I am first blessed to be able to be here. I am blessed to be invited into their home and welcomed to join the vigil as we are all alerted at each twinge or cramp showing on Sara's face. They gave me the baby room as a bassinet is waiting for baby in their room. A crib will later be where I now sit looking out at this winter day.

Among the other mixed feelings are the strangeness of leaving my daily life in my own home and not being with Doug and "Jack" for such a "long'' time. But, I am settling in with the creation of this spot with my table and art supplies including the computer. Oh yes, I have been in such a place before. For 9 months I set up a Monday - Friday home apartment in Sunnyvale when we waited for Anna's miracle lungs. I took up residence near by so that I could care for Anna and her fragile life as she took her place on "the List" waiting for the most generous gift of life that anyone could offer. Yes that was a challenge as a mother companion with my daughter on the edge of life. And yet it was filled with incredible circumstances, coincidences, miracles, good fortunes and that life saving gift. And here I am with the most joyous of times waiting for my first grandchild with Sara. What a gift this is, truly a miracle in itself as well.

These moments in my life beg me to examine deeply the feelings, the thoughts, the motivations, the lessons, the what-evers. I seem to gravitate to writing for some of this examination. Perhaps I just like to listen to my thoughts as I see them appear one word at a time on the screen. Oh, is that what it feels like? Ah, yes I think. And as I write more I hope that greater understandings will be presented. When I write I sense that I am slowed down, I am focused, I am sensing the word formations and thought forms in an intimate and personal way. I can hear. I can listen more. Did I just read that the words silent and listen both have the same letters? If you are silent you can listen. Is that what is happening in writing, in deep personal writing?

What do I want to examine more closely? It is my role, that role of mother as it has grown and changed over time. What have a I learned from being a mother? What am I now learning as a mother, as a to be very soon grandmother? In the past few years I have seen my mosaic expressions also change and reflect the growth and development of my being a woman and a mother, the welcoming of age as the grandmother wisdom as well as the becoming of a grandmother to my daughter's children.

Sitting here in front of me balanced on the window ledge as if the central figure of a shrine for contemplation is a mosaic piece I gave to Sara a few years ago. It is a face with tribal markings. Surrounding the face are dish shards of white and gold that give a sense of light being projected or of a lion's mane. There are also rocks that have been painted with simple patterns. There was something that I was trying to express in this piece. Was it the earthy nature of our humanity and need to touch each other in symbolic ways that cause us to connect and understand beyond words? When we examine art it is our impressions, all very individual, that tell us about the teaching a piece may have. For me I see me looking back at me....she says, "Look, look, you are among the most fortunate of the fortunate, you are about to witness the birth of your first grandchild. I am here to remind you that age brings gifts beyond those you have yet to know. I am here to honor all which you have experienced so far." And today will be another step into this life, its mysteries and miraculous blessings to be a mother and a grandmother to be....

This path that you are sending me on
I have already walked for a number of miles
Met many other travelers going my way
Passed by many going another way
A direction was set out for me
No one asked me if this was the way I wanted to go
No map can be found
I round a bend and another twist
Another turn
Another unknown
Another and then another
This path you are sending me on
Sometimes I grip onto the edge of my seat
Afraid I may fly off
Sometimes I say, “Really?”
Always I am asked to accept and keep going
Stretching my skin and my mind
My heart is bruised and recovers
Grand sights are seen
Many losses are had
Sounds of birds and water and laughter give respite
Before the next bend
The next twist and turn
This path you are sending me on
Each step takes me further to a ground
Unknown until I get there
Trust you say, trust…
But who are you that is steering my way
Looking into the mirror and into my eyes
A deep soul stirring wishes to know itself
I am you and you are me
Traveling in time and space so that we can be One
You set out the way
I take the steps
Thinking I do not know the way
I am fooled
It was me all of the time carving out this path
Pointing the way to go.
 
Robin Modlin 2018
 

Every woman has a story to tell about her hair. It is part of the feminine identity, part of the style, and part of how long it takes to get ready in the morning. My hair is just plain curly, very curly. As a child I had the dark brown kinky Jewish curls that just had to go. I so wanted to be blonde with long straight flowing locks.

I started my hair straightening career when I was about 8 years old. I sat in the salon chair for hours on a Saturday with the chemicals working on my hair and burning my scalp. After a set and comb out I would walk out with my mom happy but with a head also wearing sores and a few bald spots here and there.

Hair, it was worth it. I could smooth out the kink after using these chemicals and putting it on large rollers when ever it got wet....I learned to sleep on them. I do not have a clue today how I and other girls did that. We would dippity do our hair and place it around orange juice cans and then the head would meet the pillow and we actually would fall asleep. My hair was never long enough to iron it.....

When I was 19 I visited my brother and sister in law in Canada. I forgot some important implement to my hair care. It was a problem and Terri, my sister in law told be that enough was enough....I was to get it all cut off and go natural. For some reason I agreed. Off it came and there I was with a 1970's afro al la white girl. I grew to like it ....what I liked more was the ease of just being me and no muss no fuss......this was the way to be.

After my second baby for some reason I thought I would try straightening again. What was I thinking? Yeah it was fun for a few months but no way did I want to maintain upkeep. I wanted to be free again......so natural was the way.

About 7 years ago I cut it again in a new style.......no more pulling it back in clips. I was out there with my Angela Davis hair. Loved it! And in the past years I have had more complements on my hair, "I just love your hair" every where I go. It has been so fun....people like my hair! Amazing! When I was a child not only I hated it but it was cause of teasing by others. Now I get special attention........so sweet and fun for me.

Now the cosmic joke! Do you think life is funny? Do you really? Just when I am in my 60's and beauty is fading into the creases and folds I start loosing my hair! What? That is not funny. After all, I am the curly haired woman. My hair is my muse for my sculptures. My hair is my signature characteristic. Now, when I am in the veggie aisle and someone says, "I love your hair" I mumble under my breath, "Yeah, hope I get to keep it." It is the ultimate cosmic joke working on my ego and vanity. I have frontal fibrosing alopecia....you can not tell yet but, I can see and feel that my hair is leaving my head. I have already lost all of my eyebrows and my hairline is definitely moving with a blank spot or two above the ears. Crazy!

The hair loss may stop in its tracks (I hope, I hope) or it may not. There are a few "medical" things that I am trying.....the Dr. tells me to be hopeful. I have already dreamt of what kind of wig I would get. And you know, I am not thinking curly. I still want salt and pepper but how about long and straight with bangs this time. I could have a pony tail like I never had before or I could wear it down or up on the top of my head. I also am carrying a light weight turban in my purse just in case that day arrives when I can no longer hide it.......

But wait, maybe I found another answer......this alopecia is an autoimmune condition like my Hashimoto's disease (thyroid). I have just embarked on the Paleo Autoimmune Approach Diet......it makes a lot of sense and since the medical world really does not have much for this condition I think I will try to eat my way with meat and veggies back to good health and save my hair. Where the thoughts of a long straight wig sounds fun in a way, I think I like the "I love your hair" comments from sweet people in the world. What a gift my curls have been for me. They are worth saving so bye bye wine, bye bye nightshade veggies, bye bye nuts and seeds, bye bye many other things.......so maybe I can have those curls stick around into my older and older age and I can watch how the gray invades and takes over....I can just be me....it is that, or a smooth head for my new identity.

Why am I telling you this? Guess it is my way to prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

Meet my fairy, Lilliput. Why the name Lilliput? Well just look at her. Isn't she a Lilliput? She is a bit mischievous, head strong, silly, and lighter than air........I learned just recently about my fairy while exploring my creativity looking for my muse and she popped in. A fairy, what a manifestation for a grown woman.

I have a dear friend with two darling grandchildren who I call the fairy girls. The moment I saw them I thought of fairies. I told Sue, those girls need fairies. I found some fairy dolls one Saturday in Livermore on one of my garage sale treasure hunts. And since then  they now have a fairy garden at their Mimi's home. So sweet and precious. It is fun to have fairy girls to find little fun sparkling and fairy things. But you know what? That fairy garden is not just for the girls.....it is a secret but the adult grown women love it too. Imagine, fairies.......

So, what is it about fairies? They live in natural settings, they engage our fantasies and they have wings. Who would not want wings to lift your feet off of this ground? Now that my Lilliput has come into my life I too have a fairy garden sitting in the middle of my vegetable garden. I understand that she has been close by all my life. She is the voice that whispers giggles at the absurd and the imagined and unimagined coincidences that appear out of no where.

By now we all know that this life and all that comes down is no joke. Hey, we all have had a life and even though you may not admit how tough it is sometimes, I know, it is a challenge for all of us. I realize that one of the ways I have been able to get through is with my dear friend Lilliput sitting on my shoulder when I have needed her. How else do you walk out of an ICU and take your eyes off of the ground? It takes fairy wings on your eyelids lifting them up and finding something "light" .

Now I know it was not only fairy but also wise woman who with her serious and grounded knowing was the other figure on the other shoulder who was with me too. I call her Sedona. Sedona and Lilliput are good friends now after working together to help me navigate this life I call my own. Do you have a Sedona and Lilliput on your shoulders? I hope so in fact I know so. If you just look you will find them. They ride with all of us. Just give them a name and call on them when ever you need.

Fairies, and wise women archetypes, silly, I am a grown woman you know. But I can not resist the fun of my imagination. It carries me on fairy wings........and Sedona points the way.

She sits with beaded headband and yellow vest. Her face is round and a warm brown with white hair wisps as a frame. The fullness of her presence signifies she has seen more than her share. An open mouth spills out the sound of her knowing when once she was young it was the high pitch sound of her longing. Age brought her to these deeper notes. Time had to pass before she could sing like thunder. Her song is no nonsense and only tells the truth. It speaks of an earthy connection and a warm embrace in the quick moment that the sky opens to the light and the power flashing boldly. In this instant you know you are standing strong. She says hey ya, hey ya, hey ya as she beats a drum given to her by her ancestors. And when those words touch the ears of the white wolves they stand alert. They begin to gather and mark the trail that leads forward. Standing strong leads to walking firm, moving on a straight path guided by the constant hey ya, hey ya, hey ya.........

And this is the image of my SoulCollage® Protector Guide. She came to me on Monday and I love her. I can not get enough of her. She warms me and the wolves call me. I can hear her chant deep in my mind. The lightening is bold and a bit scary in all of its power.

Taking time to meditate upon what we need within us to guide us through difficult times is so helpful  What are the qualities that make us feel safe and true to our standing tall? Each of us will have our own sense of a Protector Guide and who she or he is and what surrounds that energy. Using images to define what we feel draws it even closer and allows us to go much deeper. We can ask ourselves why did I choose that image, that face, that symbol? How do I feel when I gaze upon it? What happens when I allow that image to work inside my mind? Does it open new thoughts and places I have not yet explored?

As I gaze upon this wonderful native woman singing her song my heart knows her. I have always known her. She cuddled me as a child when I felt hurt and alone. She connected me to the earth as I would watch butterflies and caterpillars or climbed in trees. She fostered my curiosity about things old and ancient and my ancestors. She helped me find my voice as I grew older. She stood by me as I gave birth to my children. She held my hand as I stood by the bedside of my sick daughter. She chanted with me as my mother's spirit left this world for another. And now she is courting me to dance an unknown dance.

Perhaps the wolves know the steps. I will have to get to know them better to see if they will turn and leap and do the two step with me. I will listen to the hey ya, hey ya, hey ya and seek to feel the style of the dance.  I will waltz in the thunder clap. Is this the march of age beckoning me to new ways of being? If so, if I am entering a new time, a new age I am glad that she is my guide for I know in her face, in her eyes and in her heart she will be there for me at any new passages that may come without my knowing, into the mystery of my life.

It is so comforting to know that she sits in her dress fully herself while I still live with confusions and conflicts and fears and mistakes and failures and disappointments and losses and imperfections beyond my control. As I continue to slip and stumble, seek and learn, try and fail and live this life in all the humanness that we must, she is an image that holds me with a grandmother's embrace. It is here at her feet I can wash the tears and cleanse my spirit and feel her forever with me.

It is loud and clear, not just a whisper in the ear. The voice rings with truthful noise saying, "You must do your work, your inner work. You must practice looking within, coming to know yourself." This voice has lived with me using it's megaphone poised on my shoulder for as long as I can remember. It has always been as bold and sharp as the caw of the crow or raven. Those black birds with their sounds of warning and telling appearances at mysterious times, have followed me through neighborhoods old and new, calling me from house tops and tree tops as if they knew they were my special feathered sisters reminding me, look within, look within......

As a young girl I would sit up in the well pruned grapefruit tree that grew outside my bedroom window and ponder, Who am I? What is all of this? These were natural questions for me, it was my nature to think this way, just like it was of the roundness and yellow color of the grapefruits ripening around me, while I sat on my private perch. I would take my drawing book and my dolls or my plastic horses there with me. I would settle into the woody crotch of a limb and spend time imagining my life, creating stories, feeling my hurts, feeling alone, wondering about where I came from, looking within and around me for answers. It was the work I had to do. I needed to understand and seek deeply.

I fondly think back to being 9 or 10 feeling my place in that tree, in my retreat when I was confused and felt unloved. And now so many years later I am here in my studio, no longer in that sacred tree. My studio is an annex of our garage built on the edge of a vineyard. Outside the window I can hear the water of the patio fountain as it washes away the silence. When they want to, the crows fly by with the occasional hawk and vulture. Here I can be me and take the time to look within. That voice that is loud and clear resounds here through the window and inside the walls. It is the same voice but it sits on a shoulder of a matured woman now creating my own sculptures and other art works while I ponder and ponder.

I have found many of my own answers and many more questions as I spend time in quiet like in my tree or now in my studio and of them all I think the most important answer is that this is the work we all must do, and simply, it never ends. This is all of our work. In the midst of what ever we are involved in whether our employment, the caring of family, sports activities or exotic vacations we must also spend time looking within. Coming to know ourselves, how we respond to situations, what we feel deep in our hearts, how we are hurt and how we hurt others is what we all need to learn about. It is the most important work. We all must find our way that helps us to look deeply into the darkness of shrouded truths as well as around the bend to the light of dawn breaking. This is how we learn compassion for ourselves and others and come to know what we can give and how we can grow. This is how we find balance and happiness.

For me as I reflect upon the years my way has included praying through creativity to come to know my world and myself more intimately. I recognize that now. As when I was a child playing with my toys, that play was like a prayer to have a deeper understanding. And now as I look at my creative life the things that I have worked on have all been prayers. These are not prayers to anyone but prayers to life, to the universe, to my heart, to foster growth and understanding. Creativity has been a powerful path for me allowing me to express my dreams, feel my wounds and ask my questions.

If you are reading this blog passage that I have written are you thinking of how you look within? Are you thinking about how you have not done that for a while? Do you also realize that this is really our most important work? Are you saying, I have to find that place where I can be quiet, where I can listen deeply, where I can create, where I can ask questions and find answers and more questions? If you are, then you are doing it, you are doing the work.........the work we all must do, keep it up..........

I have amazing good fortune. I still have all of my essential parts. Well, I did loose a tooth last year and now I am having a new tooth made for my implanted screw that sits in my jaw, but that is so nothing. I have my health as such at my age. And this idea of amazing good fortune also sits next to me in my friend Peggy, but she doesn't have all her original parts. Peggy has the heart of another beating in her creating her good fortune. One's good fortune is one's good fortune all so relative, you know.

The other aspect of my good fortune is that I have a collection of friends and acquaintances and even a daughter who shares this good fortune of being propelled in life by another's life giving organ. What makes my good fortune in this realm is that these people are the most grateful, loving people you can ever meet. How lucky I am to be a part of this community without having to go through what they have had to. That is a challenge and ordeal no one would ever wish for or wish upon another. And yet, they are amazing and they inspire me. I have been able to be their friend, supporter, mother and at times caregiver. This is one of the most crazy and most lovely parts of my life.

I learned about transplanted organs, especially lungs, many years ago when it was first discussed as a possible way to save my daughter's life. She was born with cystic fibrosis, a serious and life shortening genetic disease. My life as her mother was intense with the forever cloud of ever worsening disease and eventual loss. We fought the overwhelming lung infections with all that we had as a family. We were involved in our community of other CF families. There, another way I have had great good fortune. Our CF, CFRI community is filled with committed, intelligent, caring, courageous people. I am so, so proud to be a part of that group.

But finally, despite the war on her lung disease the battles lead to a surrender and a new path, keeping Anna going until new lungs could be found. We knew others whose lives had been saved in this way. They were our inspiration and our hope. We also knew others who never had this opportunity. Their lives took on a different turn and a different meaning. When you or your family member have this hope and then are not able to get a chance at new life through organ transplant there is a feeling of great disappointment and loss. Then one must listen and look very deep to find the meaning of the life that ended too soon. So many have been lost and so many more will again. Everyone has their own story and each family must find the way they cope and learn to gain understanding. They are the most courageous ones.

And for us, me and Peggy, our stories include the chapter of successful organ transplantation. Having survived this ordeal as mother and friend to others before, I got to once again support and watch my dear friend Peggy receive this miracle too, only 8 weeks ago. How strange it seemed when I learned that my good friend needed a new heart. How could I know so many organ recipients? My first impulse was to help her in any way that I could. I had a way to give, because I had been there before, I knew how to do this. One needs to have some way to give back when life saving gifts are so generously bestowed by the universe. I also have my great good fortune of good health and all my original parts so that I could do this, I could help to support my friend.

And, Peggy has done so well, not a glitch, not a hint of rejection. And the gifts that are given to me as a result of watching her are so wonderful. I get to be with my dear Peggy who is just simply, the energy of love. She is so, so happy. She is so, so grateful. I am so, so lucky to have her as my friend. There are many others out there who are waiting for organs, there are many out there who have met an untimely demise that gives them and their family this door through which they can make meaning out of a tragic situation. Many need to be better informed about the gift of transplant and what it can do for people, opening hearts, giving hope and new life. Oh what a great good fortune I have to have witnessed this so many times in this life time..........when it works it is truly a miracle.

And for all of those that I know at this time who are on the edge, who wish for this path, may it be yours as well. I wish I could say as I know they do too, may it be so, but that is not the way it works. It is the unfolding of a life in its true meaning and the mysterious revealing of the individual's true story where the great good fortune relative to their own life resides. We do not get to decide on our ending or if we get the same good fortune as another, we get our own. Each story is unique with mystery, disappointments, loss, gains and most of all with meaning. Meaning is revealed to us all when we look deeply finding it in all circumstances. It is that meaning that is truly the great good fortune for all of us because that is what keeps us going and that is what we can share with others enhancing their experience of life as well.

Here is to you recognizing your great good fortune in every circumstance!

more info about signing up to be an organ donor or just to learn more:

www.donatelife.net