I Just Wanted to Be Sure of You

My grandparents are long gone, my mother died in 1963, daddy died in 1986, and my stepmother died in 2010. I guess that, technically, I am a 66 year old orphan — but I am lucky enough to have a big network of friends who have become my family.

I often take time to reflect on what a fortunate person I am. But no more than when I spend time with my friends. As Elbert Hubbard (who?) said, “A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you.”

And I have gathered them from so many different parts of my life. Six of them gathered for a birthday dinner for me recently and we commented on that very thing. All six of us are linked by theater: five by Board membership at the Remy Bumppo Theatre Company and another friend who is a supporter of Remy Bumppo.

Continue reading → I Just Wanted to Be Sure of You

Sitting in a big hotel in Lusaka
Very Western
Pleasant but sterile
Sitting by a lovely “water feature”
With koi and papyrus and purple flowers
And water lilies

(more…)

When the Golden Years Turn to Gold Dust

by Nancy McDaniel

The saddest part to me is that she seems to be disappearing in front of my eyes. The woman whom I have loved for over 40 years, the woman who married my beloved Daddy and who became my sweet step mom, my dearest Ginny, is vanishing. In her frail old age, she is becoming a fragile piece of paper, a puff of smoke. She is diminishing daily and seems to be evaporating.

Continue reading → When the Golden Years Turn to Gold Dust

Death in a High Rise: A Tribute to Maureen McDonald

by Nancy McDaniel

October 25, 2003

When I think of dangerous occupations, I think of firefighter and police officer and window washer and miner and construction. I never thought paralegal.

When I think of dangerous places, I think highways and skyways and oceans and prisons. I don’t think high rise office buildings.

Continue reading → Death in a High Rise: A Tribute to Maureen McDonald

Camp Chapungu: Listen to the Stone

by Nancy McDaniel

OK, OK, how many times has someone told you that an event “really changed my life?”

I recently participated in a stone carving workshop taught by a Master Sculptor from Zimbabwe.

It didn’t exactly change my life, but it did open me up and taught me ever-so-much more than how to carve stone.

This is that story.

Continue reading → Camp Chapungu: Listen to the Stone