June 10, 2025
Clara and I celebrated tonight.  We met each other just a little over 2 years ago.  I think we are both pretty damn glad we became friends.  We went to China Gourmet.  Nice evening. 






Can you see  the Waxwing?  I had to put  Merlin on to truly identify him.  My camera battery is not holding a charge, keeps finking out on me and I try to use the phone.  I need new batteries.  





Rookery was 64 and cloudy and damp, very damp this afternoon. 
















Part II

I can’t begin to tell you what my overall mental health was, but I was slightly disassociated.  Nothing felt familiar or comfortable or exactly right.  For the 2 years previous I had lost my father, my lover and our child and the idea was to go away to college and begin a new life.  It was exciting and I was terrified and at this age, I know I was severely traumatized.  But here was a normal Vermont local farming family who embraced me, immediately opening their arms and home to me.  Joyce is 20 years my senior and offered me a touch of home away from home upon meeting me.  A touch of a home I never had, a comfortable couch and clear roles.  We went to Weight Watchers together and Hugh helped me get my Vermont license.  Marlboro was in charge of my academics, Tom in charge of my future, and the Whitneys made sure I had family.

Saturday, while sitting in a circle of old friends, a woman in her 60’s walked into LAVA with a 90 something year old carrying a walking stick.  I watched Annie greet both women with loud heartfelt gladness.  I couldn’t figure out who it could be.  Finally she got close enough for me to know it was Joyce and her youngest daughter, Debbie.  Tears welled up in my eyes and that utter strong feeling of knowing, no matter how lost and despondent I felt, here was someone who truly had my back, always, no matter how different our worlds had been when I was 21 and came to Marlboro to change my life; this open hearted wonderfully emotionally rich woman had my back, no questions asked.  And she still did, tears dropping from both our faces, enveloped in something old and precious, love that had never gone away.

I’ve seen Joyce over the years, now and again, when I worked at Marlboro she was working the Kitchen, but not since Hugh died. Not since Marlboro closed.  It didn’t matter, when her daughter told her about the reception she told Debbie she had to get dressed and go see her girls (Annie and Lindy).   That for me was the highpoint of an emotionally powerful day.  

photo by Dianna







 

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