a prophetic voice-

August has been family time for me...a weekend in Wilmington w ith my daughter and grand-daughter, catching up (we hadn't been together since Christmas), sharing meals, canoeing, walking on the beach, and laughing- a lot. As you can see, there is a special zaniness   pervading our time together, a great blessing for this woman who can take herself altogether too seriously. And the good sense and wisdom of my daughter is a real gift to me. Youngest son, Paul, and I had some good one-on-one time this month, too, sharing some meals and going to a movie (at the same theater but not watching t he same flick- our tastes are very different, but we did go there together)... Don't have any recent photos of him... will have to remedy that soon. He continues to make me very proud with his determined participation in his own recovery, and his job at a l ocal community center is making him feel useful, something we all want and need, don't we? This past F

The realtors just left- and it seems that I am staying put, right where I am, i n my lovely little quirky old house on Council Street. There- I said it. I AM NOT SELLING MY HOUSE, because financially it would simply not be feasible. The reality is that I would actually lose money, money I can ill afford to let slip t hrough my fingers. And that would totally defeat the proposed purpose of my tentative plan. You know, life has a way of continually surprising me. I thought I had made the "right" decision when I opted to downsize, to sell my house, and look for an apartment. But the two kind real estate agents who toured my home with me today, loving what they were seeing, oh-ing and ah-ing over the many little features which make this place unique, were in so many ways the answer to prayer. I have been so torn about which way to actually go, which path to really take, how to  live most responsibly. Making the right choice has occupied my mind and heart for the

I don't know how it slipped by me but it did: July 6th, 2013. It would  have been my fiftieth wedding anniversary, had life gone differently... had a dreadful disease not ended the life of my otherwise healthy young husband, leaving me and our three children reeling, a sense of disbelief the overriding emotion for all of us, including my parents and sisters, our extended family, and all of our friends. And with the memories I am once again made aware of- hit in the face with, actually- l ife's delicate fragility, of the  reality that we never, ever know what  tomorrow will bring. Trite-sounding, I know, but  unarguably true. Today is all any of us  really has... this moment, this breath... to use as we will or to let slip  away like sand through an hourglass. Who knows what our lives would have been like- mine and my  children's'- had the fickle finger of fate not intervened as it did? Who knows what our paths would have looked like or where they would

It seems the decision is made...I actually contacted a realtor and I've been driving around, looking at some apartment complexes in the Greensboro area. And the voice which continues to accompany me is that of Joan Chittister in Following the Path . This morning, I read, "...the feeling of being in the wrong place gets so strong it can be painful," to which I could only add in the margins of the book, "YES" in resounding agreement. For that is indeed how I have been feeling...that I am no longer in the right place for this time of my life...which means that I must risk...dare...step out in the faith that I am doing the right thing for me. No easy decision, I can assure you. After all, it will be truly life-changing. I have spoken with all three of my children and have received support and encouragement on every front. I think they are finally beginning to realize that Mom is no longer young...nor even middle-aged...that even though I do quite wel

Decision-making, of the momentous, life-changing sort, has always  been a lengthy and even painful process for me. l agonize and pray  and try to discern how my heart is being led...usually I seek out the  counsel of friends I trust, as well as perusing words of wisdom from  favorite writers, biblical and otherwise. And- eventually- the way  seems clear...the answer seeming to arise from my very depths... an inner voice of sorts affirming my decision. Now this not to say I have not made some colossal mistakes over  the years. But even those "mistakes", it seems, have been the  source of learning and growth (once I get past the consternation at being wrong, of course.) But seldom have I been faced with a  decision with as much potential for both pain and pleasure or as fraught with emotion as the one with which I have been wrestling for the past several months: whether or not to sell my house and move into an apartment...to downsize in a major way...to live far