What This Woman is Doing

I grew up reading. At eight I found the science fiction/fantasy section of my library and it started a life long love affair with those kinds of books. I later went into art and writing. One of the most influential people I met was the late Marion Zimmer Bradley. Through her works I discovered that a strong woman was not a freak of nature. I learned that women can and should be strong and that I was capable of doing any great deed that a man could do. I treasured the memories of getting to meet this remarkable woman on several occasions. It is ironic that we are living in a time when women should be able to be recognized and encouraged to perform the tasks that can help us as a people and a world and yet women are under attack politically and personally. There is a movement afoot to throw women back into the “barefoot and pregnant” state of being. We are a world in crisis and yet politicians want to destroy the rights of women and families and workers while continuing to line the pockets of the richest in the nation.

One of the reasons I started writing was to be able to help provide role models for people to use in their personal lives. I realized that the stories I was writing were being read by all ages. I feel as a writer I have an obligation to prove that women could fight along with men in the fight between good and evil. We all have our roles to play. I brought in my cultural heritage of a strong Celtic influence into my writing and also paid homage to my Cherokee great grandmother in one of the stories. I am spreading out to incorporate my love and fascination of the Orient in the next stories.

One of my favorite reader and critic is my grand-nephew Tristen. Tristen is now 15 and he suffers from Asperger’s Syndrome. When I was visiting in November he was enthusiastic about the next series of stories and wanted my female heroine to be a Dragon King’s daughter. He was hoping that I could bring into the stories the conflicts that we see if our efforts to get along with and understand people with a different heritage then we have. He is looking for me to blend Chinese mythology into the world I created like I blended Celtic and Native American into the last stories. He has very high standards for his Aunt Michele to meet.

In the fight for human rights we have many avenues that we can use to help. In addition to the political arena we can also use the world of art, fiction, poetry and yes Facebook and Twitter to help win the minds and hearts of people. If my writing and art can help to influence even a child with Asperger’s to become a fighter for human rights then I believe what I am doing is important. I have limited financial resources but I contribute what I can to help fight for the environment and for a better world. I contribute my time when I can to as many areas as I can.

I am contributing a new heroine to inspire young women to achieve the greatness that they deserve to achieve. I have taken my grandnephew’s suggestions to heart and Princess Jade will be joining my elf Bard Sean in the fight against evil. She is part beautiful richly dressed princess and part princess warrior. She brings not only her strength and intelligence into the battle but contributes her Guardian Dragon as well. As I did with the Sean’s Stories I want to entertain and educate at the same time. We all have a story to tell. We all have a fight to win in making this a better world for all. I am using my art and story telling abilities to help fight.

Irish Wisdom

May those who love us, love us
And those who don’t,
May God turn their hearts
And if He doesn’t turn their hearts
May He turn their ankles so we’ll know Them by their limping.

The secret of the Irish is to live a long time without growing old.

The day God created the Irish
He didn’t do another thing except sit down and smile.

May you be in Heaven a half hour before the devil knows you’re dead.

May you live to be a hundred years,
With one extra year to repent

May God bring good health to your enemies’ enemies.

May your blessings be many,
Your troubles be few.
May the love in your hearts
Forever be true.

May your mornings bring joy
And your evenings bring peace.
May your troubles grow few.
And your blessings increase.

May your home always be too small
To hold all of your friends.

Dance as if no one were watching.
Sing as if no one were listening.
Live each day as if it’s your last.

Bless us with good food,
The gift of gab.
And hearty laughter.
May the love and joy
We share
Be with us Ever after

May your troubles be less
And your blessings be more.
And nothing but happiness
Comes through your door.

May the road rise to meet you;
May the wind be always at your back;
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
The rains fall softly upon your fields;
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

May you live as long as you want; and not want as long as you live.

May you have warm words on a cold evening,
A full moon on a dark night
And the road downhill
All the way to your door.

May the best day of your past
Be the worst day of your future.

May your neighbors respect you,
Troubles neglect you,
The angels protect you,
And heaven accept you.

Living History

“Time is not a line, but a series of now points.” Taisen Deshimaru

Life is not normally a series of earth shattering events. In every life there are moments that leave you shaking. The sudden death of my Dad on May 4, 1999 and the expected, but not yet, death of my Mom on May 26, 2010 are two shattering events in my life. I am now going through the house they lived in for so many years because it has to be sold. Today I made a discovery that has me shaking not in sorrow but with joy and anticipation.

The trunk is old and battered. I was looking for old suitcases to put my mothers clothes in that we are giving to charity and sitting way in the back and covered with other things I saw it. An old childhood memory of seeing my Dad with the trunk when I was very young came back. I was his only girl and we were very close. I remembered asking him about it and he told me it was his memory trunk. He kept things in there from when he was young and from his time in World War 2. I haven’t seen the trunk for many years but I remember an early visit out here when he showed me where it was at.

I opened the trunk today to see what was inside. There are stacks of letters tied together that Mom wrote him right after they got married and he had gone overseas during the war. There was an acceptance letter from Wabash welcoming him on the GI Bill. There were pictures and letters from family members who have been gone for many decades. It is the story of the man known as Jack Lloyd Wilson who married Mary Jane “Pat” Hughes. I am getting bubble wrap to make sure all the old things are safe and that trunk will go down to North Carolina with me. I will scan all the old letters and photos and other things that my Dad treasured before time destroys them. One of the things I found in the trunk was my Baby Book that my Mom made for all the children. She thought mine had gotten lost years ago but Dad kept it. There can be no stronger request for me to handle Dad’s history then that. He once said he wanted me to take over his genealogy because I was the only one of the five children who was interested.

That trunk is his story. In the battered trunk are the things that Dad thought were precious. Things he didn’t want to part with. The scrapbook of the beginning of my life is in that trunk. It is my Dad’s way of telling me that I am the one he trusts to take care of his treasures and tell the story of one man’s hopes and dreams. It is an honor and absolutely terrifying at the same time.