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7/23/06

Dear Kim:

It has been, as you know, the most difficult year I can remember in a long time.

A year in which my mother had a heart attack, my sister struggled with ovarian cancer, and I had an unexpected hysterectomy. A year in which a member of The DisAbility Project was killed in a senseless accident because the driver did not see her crossing the street in her wheelchair. A year in which my parents left their home of 63 years in Chicago to move closer to my brother in New York so he can supervise their healthcare.And a year in which my personal life with Pseudonym provided ongoing conflict and stress instead of the refuge that one might hope for in a lover.

After such a year, what I wanted for my birthday was the pursuit of normal. No parties, no big gathering of friends, no major presents. The pursuit of a quiet day with simple pleasures was all I wanted.

A bowl of grape nuts with fresh blueberries on an outdoor deck, watching birds.

The time to write.

Reading the newspaper over a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

A nature walk that left me winded and sweaty.

A swim under an open sky.

A few phone calls from loved ones before I turned off the cell so I could get away from the phone.

For a day and a half, I had escaped to Innsbrook, a quiet village about an hour outside of St. Louis with 7,000 acres and over 50 lakes. Potential came up to share the day with me. She wanted to surprise me with a coconut cream pie, one of my favorites but had left both the blender and the Mexican vanilla at home. So she insisted on driving all the way into Wentzille to pick up vanilla and hand beat the batter with a fork until her forearms were sore.

After dinner, we danced to Aretha Franklin on the portable cd player.

Triple step. Triple step. Rock step.

Simple? I think not. Such “simple” things are luxuries in the face of illness and death, trauma and loss. I had a wonderful birthday, indeed.

Later,

Joan

Saturday, July 8, 2006