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Tuesday, November 24, 2009


Last year this time I was less than a week out of the rehab hospital.  I wondered if I was going to be able to take the next breath, the next lifting of my head, the next swallow of medication, the next trip to the bathroom, and the next drink of water, would I be able to swallow enough of it.

I wondered if I could accept the pills and the patches without crying, if I could look at all the faces around my bed and not reflect back the sadness and worry I saw there, if I could not cry at all because the back up of fluid in my mouth and nose was choaking me.

I started to water the plant in my bathroom.  And it began to open and to bloom.  It caused a crack in the way I was thinking.  Just a bit of water and sunlight and look what happened.

I wondered if I would remember things again, so much forgotten, so much lost, so much gone, simply gone. Would it come back, would I be able again.  Just able, not able to do any particular thing but just simply able. I thought for long periods between medicating applications and could remember none of it when next I was given medicines.

I wondered if there would come a time when I could just be.  Just not hurt. Just not cry. Just not ache everywhere, differently than before I went to the hospital in the first place. Just wondered if this was all there was ever going to be.  And then I would have a moment or two of clarity.  And the pain and misery of my situation and condition would press so tightly against my heart and my mind that I would cry backwards, I would muffle the tears as best I could but it never helped. I heard so many times, it is going to be ok sweetheart.

I did not believe it for months but I repeated it like a montra.  Perhaps everyone but me could see something when looking at me that I was completely missing.  I never gave up but I had nothing left to give either.

The cards and notes and small gifts of friends is what ultimately bought me around.  As they reached in with these small wonders I began to reach out and to look forward to receiving them.  It is hard to explain how much these cards and palm size gifts meant to me.  They were small enough to fit into the size my world had become.  They gave me hope, and let me know that dear ones outside of my room cared for me.  I needed to get better and try harder so that I could thank them.

And I did.  There were miles and stories between this year at this time and last year at that time but suffice it to say Thank You dear friends and love ones.  You pulled me through.  I made it. I will continue.  I have placed your offerings in a special place in my heart and in my room.  They make me smile and think and I know that I am loved.

How will I translate this into a quilt.  It is a must as I will want to add it to my storytelling.

Warmest regards,
Ms. V

Monday, November 9, 2009

Here are shots of Damion working.

I love so many of these shots.  Great job Damion.

You wait years to see the proof of your work
Wait to see the proof of the putting
Years go by and you hope something you do will be worthy
To finally see your work is almost spell binding
See how dedication and committment pan out
The true measure of a man's work is the process and documentation
Proof is always available when you are engaged in the process
Of all the days in my life I choose this one to take a measure of where I am and when
Your task is to keep on plowing the field, sowing the seed, and reaping the rewards
Work is only one of the many facets of life, do not forget all the others.

Ms. V

Damion Poitier New reels