[First posted in September 2012 on www.deepeningcommunity.ca]

My friend Jody, who has Down syndrome, took his place on the stage last night in front of an appreciative crowd. His parents had tuned his guitar in a unique way, so that he could strum it without fretting any chords and still sound more or less melodious. He sang with gusto his all-time favorite: “This Little Light of Mine.” And he shone. When he was done, he worked the room, tackling a throng of adoring fans with hugs and high-fives.

Jody graduated from high school in May at the age of 21. The commencement ceremony for him and a dozen of his friends was an extraordinary event. It began with all the graduating students making their way down the long aisle one at a time to take their seats on the stage. One pushed his friend in a wheelchair. Another struggled behind a walker, stepping slowly and with determination, a broad smile filling her face, while the audience of families and friends cheered her on.

Every student was given the opportunity to make a short speech on that momentous day. Most gave thanks to their parents and teachers. One young man tried to hand his diploma back to the principal, but all the others received them with beaming pride. Jody held his up right in front of his face while the cameras clicked away. Continue reading →

[First posted in February 2011 on www.deepeningcommunity.ca]

 My great-niece was born on January 22nd. A couple weeks later, I was talking on the phone with my nephew, the brand-new father, about how it was going. “We’re pretty exhausted,” he said. “Changing a lot of diapers, up every few hours, checking regularly to make sure she’s still breathing.”

The marvel of it. That described my life exactly. Except the subject of care wasn’t a newborn baby but my dying mother. As I surveyed the stacks of diapers and bowls of pureed food that had suddenly overtaken my home, I thought, “Dying sure is a lot like being born.”

My mind went back to Thanksgiving of 2004, when the members of my extended family had converged on my sister’s home for the traditional feast. Before dinner, in response to my mother’s offer to set the table, I had handed her the silverware. Minutes later, I discovered her standing by the dining room table, still clutching the utensils, utterly bewildered. We had witnessed earlier indications of Mom’s failing memory, but that was the day I knew for certain that we were on the long journey with the identity thief called Alzheimer’s. Continue reading →

[First posted in February 2012 on www.deepeningcommunity.ca]

A Sunday school teacher was asking her young class about Easter. A 5-year-old boy piped up, “That’s when Jesus comes out of his tomb, and if he sees his shadow, we have six more weeks of winter.”

Yesterday we observed Groundhog Day. And by “observed,” I mean we totally ignored it except to ask at the end of the day, “Anybody know what Punxsutawney Phil saw today?” Apparently the famous-for-one-day-a-year Pennsylvania groundhog saw his shadow and we’re in for six more weeks of winter. Which is a bit ironic since, at least where I live, we haven’t actually had much winter yet. Just one snowfall in late December that melted by noon.

The frogs are already singing antiphonally in the pond. The white snowdrops on the bank have been in bloom for a week. I might not have taken note of how early the flowers popped up, except that last year they appeared with all their splendor and comfort the day after my mother died, on February 14th. Spring has arrived in the western North Carolina mountains about three weeks early this year.

Continue reading →