2020 has surely shaken so many tail feathers! But from the eyes of this 61 year old Baby Boomer, Cold War/Cuban Missile Crisis/Vietnam (etc) but did miss out on Flower Child label… I’ve seen much and been blessed to be here. I’m of sound … body? So Covid hasn’t been a huge worry for me but definitely aware of those around me who could be susceptible or just fearful. All the same, it is a balancing act for us all. Growing up, I’ve had little to no vaccines to remedy my adaptation back into the general public, no stimulus check, no free medical care but somehow… here I am. Weathered the sunny times, and knew there was still a sun when it was cloudy.
I grew up on the fringe of JFK, Martin Luther King and the examples of all the American generations who strived to push forward and become a unified country. The words of Martin Luther King still ring in my soul: “Not separate but equal…” My American Indian root wept as they walked the Trail of Tears. My Irish eyes were shining as my daring immigrant Great-great grandparent sailed past the Statue of Liberty seeking the American Dream. Those are just a few of the puddles that my persons contributed to this American Mutt.
We all have history. My great grandmother grew up very poor in the hills of West Virginia marrying at the age of 14 to rid the family of a female to preserve the male value to the farm. (Me too?) She survived and sustained her sons each decade of wars and economic struggles. I was blessed to walk in the shadow of my parents’ patriotic calling– US Navy. Many have no idea the discipline required by the family circle due to instability of community, humanitarian sacrifices, or just plain old resilience to weather a missing father for all these reasons. (Not the ideal Leave it to Beaver)
So, I tried to dive into this time of isolation and quarantine to start novel #3 but somehow the only thing effected was my creativity. My independence physically was less stressed than my ability to preserve another memory on paper. The memory of my friend, Evelyn Thompson Wybenga’s journey to go even farther behind my memory of weathering the storms of life. She was born 1906 in North Carolina, found a career in NYC by the age of 26 and eventually swept off her feet in her late 40’s by a Dutch radioman for Holland America Line.
But, I’ve pulled the books from my “to read pile” and resonated with Cassandra King Conroy’s love story with Pat. Fortunately, I’m isolated with my soul mate who shares a quirky sense of humor. I’ve revisited my journey as a woman looking for her self image in Barbara Probst’s Queen of the Owls and lighting incense as I return to the 70’s with Clover Blue by Eldonna Edwards. So, all in all… as I have quarantined I shout a big AMEN that the sun still shines whether I write or read. I thank even the cloudy days because the sun is there regardless of the clouds.
How are you weathering?
2 thoughts on “From The Edge of America… East Coast!”
Enjoyed your blog. You are not alone. Many of my author friends are finding it difficult to write during this time. We’re all getting through this the best we can!
Birds of a feather! Thanks for dropping in!
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