Six months ago my friend June Brasgalla wrote an essay about me for a contest about people who reinvent themselves in the second half of their lives. The contest sponsored by Wells Fargo Investments. It was called the Second Half Champions contest. Duh. I was pleased and honored by her lovely words about me but never even fantasized about winning. Now it seems It pays to have a dear friend who is a great writer. Of the thousands of entries, we were one of the three winners in the state of Washington. In addition to awards, video interviews, they are flying her to Seattle to present the award to me, putting her up in a hotel, meals, and other amenities. That is the best part of all. It means June will be here and we will also bring our dear friend Sandy if she can get away. I can invite all my friends and family to attend. It should be a great party - sometime in early October.Here is the essay:
Claire has been my friend for over 25 years. When I first met her she lived in Miami, Florida, where she led a very busy and productive life. Divorced at an early age with two sons to raise and no guaranteed career, she created for herself a life of productivity.
Her most productive years , financially, were in her 50’s and 60’s where she worked as an accountant and was organizing secretary for organizations like Harvard Alumni club, Wharton Alumni club, etc. Her three sons were grown and lived far away so Claire made a life for herself where she was healthy , happy, and had many friends.
However , one day, when she was in her mid sixties, she woke up and she could not see out of one eye. An examination showed that she had had an optical stroke which left her, effectively, blind. She handled it with aplomb...still driving her big old car around and still going to a different group meeting every day or night of the week. Two years later, while driving through Arizona on vacation, the other eye shut down. Her worst fears realized, she faced life as a legally blind woman.
Since that time, she has moved to Seattle , Washington and started a whole new life.
She can see enough to get around a little ,and she moved into a home where there was some assistance and meals. She learned the bus system in Seattle and proceeded to get around that city by herself. After a year, she went to Guide Dogs for the Blind camp in California and met her lovely dog, Davida. The two of them spent a month learning to live together and now they are inseparable.
Claire has never lost her resolve to live life to the fullest. She joined Toastmasters in Seattle and, besides the weekly meeting, she went with the others to a local prison to help the inmates learn public speaking. She connected with the local Mensa group where she began to share her great ideas and penchant for innovative activities with the group and is now running for office as local group leader. She travels alone, a real challenge for a blind woman with a dog. However, she faces each challenge as an adventure and is not shy about accepting help from people who offer it.
She also joined the Speakers’ Bureau and , with Davida, gives about 8 talks a month.
Claire is a gifted writer, has written books and articles about running a business and improving your life. She has a Blog and writes stories about her adventures with DaVida.
She is eager to travel and visit friends, and is not afraid of the difficulties that might face her.
She is the consummate friend, and has literally saved lives by her wise counsel and her supportive friendship and availability. No woman I know inspires me more or makes better lemonade than Claire!!!!
=
Friday, July 9, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Michigan Convention
July 4th weekend in DetroitDaVida and I went to Detroit for a long weekend convention. We hooked up with a long-lost friend Dave. We spent many hours talking, eating, walking around and he groked my life and wrote about it on his blog. For some ridiculous moment I asked he not use my name so he called me Susie. I’m not sure why I said that. Here is his blog, with his permission.
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
The Lady and Her Dog
I spent the weekend with 2,200 people at a convention of sorts, though not really. Back when I lived in Miami I was a member of the convening organization and met a number of good friends who I lost track of after moving to Atlanta and lapsing my membership. Last December, on a whim, I rejoined and looked up names from the past, learning that several of my old friends were still members. Over a series of Emails back and forth, I got roped into going to the convention this last weekend.I don’t like crowds and speakers and presentations and hospitality rooms and bad banquet food; and, I found all of them over the weekend. But I also reconnected with my friends from Miami.You know you have a friend when you start a conversation a couple of decades removed pretty much like you would have a day or so after you had last been with the person.For purposes of this post I’ll skip my male friend, though he’s a post in himself, and focus on my female friend. The inner her hasn’t changed a bit. The outer her has changed. I’m not talking about the changes you might think. About three years ago she lost most of her sight, she’s legally blind. She can read 120 point type and “sees” blobs where people and things are.I’m going to fake blindness and get a service dog. They’re chick magnets. Over the weekend I walked her dog a lot. I don’t get attention. This weekend I did, even when I was alone. “Where’s the dog?” Too, it’s been sometime since I’ve spent time with a dog. I grew up with them, black labs. My new friend from the weekend is a yellow lab and she is smart as hell.When she has the “handle” on she is working. With it off and only wearing a leash, she is off duty; but, at first she still worked. She stopped at the curb. If there were people obstructing our path, she stopped. By about the third walk, all we had to deal with was accommodating the difference in my and her owner’s pace, something we never quite achieved as I walk quite a bit faster and since she was off duty, she felt it her right to wander and sniff as she liked. I knew we had bonded when we had returned to her mom, she greeted her and moved back to me and settled in next to my leg. Kind of nice, though I drew the line at getting kisses.Moving on, there’s a sea of kindness and indifference in the world. For the most part, as my friend and I walked with the dog, as my friend put it, “I’m Moses parting the waters.” Even at the last minute, people moved quickly aside as the saw her and the dog and we flowed through the masses. Then there were those that would look right at her and her dog and cut a foot in front of her forcing the dog to pull back. They didn’t see or didn’t care when they saw my “you #%%(+@!” look.There’s some ignorance too, though that’s not the right word. We sat at a table at one of the banquets. The server had seen the dog. She asked me if I would like coffee and I said yes. “Would she like coffee too?” My friend smiled. I said “I don’t know, Susie*, would you like coffee?” It turned out she would enjoy a cup of coffee and told the server. As she sensed the server leaving she said, don’t worry it happens a lot.I might do another post about Susie* and some of our other adventures over the weekend; but, I’m still digesting the grace, equanimity and plain determination that has allowed her to be no different than the woman I knew a couple of decades ago.(*I told Susie I might do a post and she asked that I not use her name. I hope I picked a name she hates.)
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
The Lady and Her Dog
I spent the weekend with 2,200 people at a convention of sorts, though not really. Back when I lived in Miami I was a member of the convening organization and met a number of good friends who I lost track of after moving to Atlanta and lapsing my membership. Last December, on a whim, I rejoined and looked up names from the past, learning that several of my old friends were still members. Over a series of Emails back and forth, I got roped into going to the convention this last weekend.I don’t like crowds and speakers and presentations and hospitality rooms and bad banquet food; and, I found all of them over the weekend. But I also reconnected with my friends from Miami.You know you have a friend when you start a conversation a couple of decades removed pretty much like you would have a day or so after you had last been with the person.For purposes of this post I’ll skip my male friend, though he’s a post in himself, and focus on my female friend. The inner her hasn’t changed a bit. The outer her has changed. I’m not talking about the changes you might think. About three years ago she lost most of her sight, she’s legally blind. She can read 120 point type and “sees” blobs where people and things are.I’m going to fake blindness and get a service dog. They’re chick magnets. Over the weekend I walked her dog a lot. I don’t get attention. This weekend I did, even when I was alone. “Where’s the dog?” Too, it’s been sometime since I’ve spent time with a dog. I grew up with them, black labs. My new friend from the weekend is a yellow lab and she is smart as hell.When she has the “handle” on she is working. With it off and only wearing a leash, she is off duty; but, at first she still worked. She stopped at the curb. If there were people obstructing our path, she stopped. By about the third walk, all we had to deal with was accommodating the difference in my and her owner’s pace, something we never quite achieved as I walk quite a bit faster and since she was off duty, she felt it her right to wander and sniff as she liked. I knew we had bonded when we had returned to her mom, she greeted her and moved back to me and settled in next to my leg. Kind of nice, though I drew the line at getting kisses.Moving on, there’s a sea of kindness and indifference in the world. For the most part, as my friend and I walked with the dog, as my friend put it, “I’m Moses parting the waters.” Even at the last minute, people moved quickly aside as the saw her and the dog and we flowed through the masses. Then there were those that would look right at her and her dog and cut a foot in front of her forcing the dog to pull back. They didn’t see or didn’t care when they saw my “you #%%(+@!” look.There’s some ignorance too, though that’s not the right word. We sat at a table at one of the banquets. The server had seen the dog. She asked me if I would like coffee and I said yes. “Would she like coffee too?” My friend smiled. I said “I don’t know, Susie*, would you like coffee?” It turned out she would enjoy a cup of coffee and told the server. As she sensed the server leaving she said, don’t worry it happens a lot.I might do another post about Susie* and some of our other adventures over the weekend; but, I’m still digesting the grace, equanimity and plain determination that has allowed her to be no different than the woman I knew a couple of decades ago.(*I told Susie I might do a post and she asked that I not use her name. I hope I picked a name she hates.)
Sunday, March 14, 2010
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