Saturday, December 18, 2010

A Horrible Night to Drive


Dear Gayle,

It's about this time every Christmas when I think of that icy, snowy night in 1990 when you drove from Ashland, KY to my parent's home in Frankfort, KY (140 miles)for an open house my mother was adadmant about having despite the subzero weather. We stood in front of the fireplace for most of the evening.

Some friends you meet in college remain your friends for life. That is us. Despite the many miles between us over the years, you have never missed reaching out to me EVERY week by letter, fax, phone, visit and now email, FB, etc. You truly know the value of the gift of time -- it's not the decorative card or the funny tagline (although we have shared many of those) it's the ability to have so much you want to tell someone and having someone so eager to listen that you run down the batteries of 3 phones in the house before you get it all said. That is us!!

But one of the greatest gifts of time you have given me was on this wintery, blistering cold night when everyone said "stay off the roads" you hauled that old Mercedes to Frankfort to see me. And I know why. My father's health was declining and you knew, I knew, we all knew, he would never see another one.

Thank you for making that journey. I've never forgotten what it meant to me and to him.

Love,
Gwen

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Walking Meditation -- You're Always Headed in the Right Direction


Dear Christ Church,

Hard to recall a more gorgeous fall day than the one we had in Old Town, Virginia, yesterday. I got to do all my favorite things I save for Saturday morning -- long walk along the Potomac River, farmer's market on King Street, petting the frisky dogs, and sipping cider at Grape & Bean on Royal Street hoping a table opens up outside.

And on the first Saturday of the month, every month, I make a short two-block pilgrimage to Christ Church to walk the labyrinth. Thank you for making this available to the community. The candles are always lit. Incense burning. Chamber music on low. The coffee pot full if anyone needs a refresher. Yesterday I had the whole place to myself. Silence and all. I needed it. I needed to slow down.

I've been walking labyrinths for years and yesterday was probably the first time that I wasn't able to form an intention for my walk. All that kept coming to mind was "help." So I went with it. Barefoot, with my hands behind my back on the way in and in front on the way out.

This was the first sanctuary I found when I move to Old Town 5 years ago. Spiritually, it was my home. Now I have joined a different church and have made many friends, but I still come on the first Saturday of the month. The quiet reflection anchors me. It brings me home and reminds me that I am never alone.

Love,
Gwen

Monday, September 6, 2010

Part Sister, Part Cheerleader, All Friend


Dear Martha,

Thank you for reminding me yesterday of the value of true friendship. There's no one else whom I can sit and hold hands with, and cry, and offer up a prayer for strength. We have supported each other through college days in Lexington, Kentucky, our rambling years in Atlanta (photo circa 1988) and our mid-life in DC.

Our friendship reminds me of the magic of the universe. Some call it destiny, I simply call it a blessing. When I introduced you to my neighbor in 1984 (??) at the pool on Labor Day you met your husband for life. Two beautiful daughters followed and you never let me forget I started it all.

Throughout the years, your cards and letters flooded my mailbox. You announced your pregnancy from San Francisco while on a business trip, your intention to make 1989 our best year from Los Angeles, and found me in Mexico on my 50th birthday. When the phone rings these days I know it's you on the other end with an invitation to dinner with your family (which of course has become mine).

It really doesn't matter what city we live in from now on. If you follow me to Cape Cod or we simply meet up online. You admonished me once after our friend Anna Gaye's early death, "we don't have it so bad after all, we have problems that we can do something about . . . this is life, not a dress rehearsal . . . live your own life, not a replay of your mother's or anyone else's."

Thank you for caring enough, and being bold enough, to never let go.

Love,
Gwen

Friday, August 20, 2010

More Than One Fashionista in the House


Dear Tigger,

Someone mentioned today that I should start shopping for my fall/winter wardrobe. A bit of a stretch in this heat, but I instantly thought of you and that pretentious swagger of yours in the kitchen this morning showcasing the season's hottest new fashions in animal print.

You look adorable in this leopard scarf! Where, please tell, did you get it? Does it come in zebra stripe as well?

I can always count on you to lead the way in fashion.

Love,
Mommy

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Blonde Chicks Unite


Dear Lin,

Thank you so very much for hosting our 25th friendship anniversary this weekend in Richmond.

I knew the minute we met at the Del Coronado in the summer of 1985 that you were my kind of gal. Maybe it was your stylish and very expensive jewelry. Maybe it was the quick wit and giggle that hinted at something you might not want to tell your mother. Maybe it was our kindred love for organ transplantation. Maybe it was because the stars knew they needed two mortals who could collectively keep the economy afloat with their shopping habits.

Who knows? But, the dearest of friends we have been through four cities (me), ten lovers (me), six careers (me), one husband (you) and grandparenting (you). I hate to say there's a trend here but one of us has to go out into the world and make a mess.

You are THE Queen of Self-Help and the only woman I know who actually lives, breathes, and believes in the Power of Now. You taught me to meditate, to use silver every day, and how to order tortillas online. Your cooking is legendary and everytime I see a recipe with more than 10 ingredients, I think of you.

I'm sure our paychecks would be retroactively cancelled if anyone knew the hours we spent talking on the phone while on the clock. And so it was fitting, that despite our weekend plans to go to the movies, visit the new wing at the museum, and workout at the gym, what we actually accomplished was melting the hours away in rich conversations over very good wine. And I mean hours.

Thank you for showing me the value of being a blonde and the beauty of being a woman. Your friendship is one of life's greatest gifts.

Love,
Gwen

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Is There Beaching in Heaven?


Dear Susan,

We missed you at the beach today. Lisa, Amy, Milly, Greg, John . . . we were all there baking in the sun on South Carolina's gorgeous coast. You always said you preferred "beaching" in the Carolinas over Cape Cod. I agree.

We got together tonight and re-read some of your letters and it's a consensus. You were the hub that kept us together for so many years. You were the one who made sure no one was left behind even though we went our separate ways -- to Atlanta, Columbus, Lansing, New Orleans, Washington, DC, and Houston -- after college.

No one really believes you are gone.

No one wants to believe you were taken from us when you were only 39 and your beautiful daughter was was barely learning to walk. It was the happiest time in your life. We can still hear you planning the details of our next holiday gathering in Lexington or trip to the beach. We can still hear your laugh.

Do they have beaching in heaven? I hope so. I know you would like that.

Love,
Gwen

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

California Dreamin'


Dear Tom,

Hard to imagine I'm once again between jobs but that's where I find myself in these dog days of summer. Yesterday I applied to a great position in Menlo Park, CA with a medical device company that treats sinus infections (which can be worse than heart disease at times) and I thought, " . . . now who in the heck do I know in California?"

And you came to mind.

Didn't we meet in Nashville in 1988 at a medical conference on a bus trip to an all night dance-athon? Or was it the closing cocktail party? Anyway, it was the summer of FUN. I had never met a bonafide California guy who knew how to surf and lived in wine country. We had a blast touring Sedona, Sonoma and Slide Rock State Park (before the helmet requirement, thank goodness).

Last I heard (circa 1990) you were applying to grad school at Berkley and considering the Peace Corps once you finished a gig selling physical therapy equipment. I can't recall if you still live in San Francisco, made it to med school . . . heck, I can't even recall your last name, but it was a great, memorable, summer.

Gotta run. I'm starting to blush . . .

Love,
Gwen

Monday, August 2, 2010

My First Big Sis


Dear Donna,

I have about three digital gadgits reminding me it's your birthday this week. How could I forget? It always falls during the hottest part of the summer and so many we spent in Atlanta drinking wine at your condo, eating pizza at Jaegar's in Lullwater park or rummaging the sale racks at Lenox Square to catch an end-of-season bargain.

You were my very first Big Sis long before I even knew I needed one.

Our work in organ and tissue donation brought us together in 1983 and just about anything we needed to sort through we did so while on booth duty at a nursing conference or hospital wellness event. You always had a sound piece of advice or witty saying and that drawwwwlllll of yours is as familiar as your laugh.

With 9 grandchildren (or 10? 11?) we no longer have time for mindless shopping sprees and late night marathon visits with Cheetos and wine. But your cards and calls have never stopped and neither has your endearing friendship and good advice.

Happy Birthday, Big Sis.

Love, Gwen

Friday, July 30, 2010

Hidden Treasure


Dear Dad,

You know how much I loved to write letters to you and mom when you were living. Well now they have these things called blogs and this one lets me write letters to someone on my mind. Today, it was you. While cleaning out some drawers, I ran across this letter you wrote me in 1989, just six months before this picture of us was taken which was just a year before you died.

Dear Gwen (6/15/89),
The mail has just arrived and I was joyfully surprised to receive a big large package, a Father's Day card and a long letter from you. I reacted like a 6 year old boy and tore into the package and there was the prettiest sport shirt I think I have ever seen . . . then I read the card and letter . . . then I just had to shed a few proud tears . . . I was just over-joyed to realize what a wonderful daughter I could personally lay claim to. . . .you are a sweet, pretty, young lady and I am so proud of you. I just wanted to put my thoughts into words because some day I will not be here to say them. Best wishes and forever be yourself. All my love, Dad


Dad, you cannot imagine how much I cherish having this letter and only regret it was buried in a chest of drawers all these years. I'll go looking for some more tomorrow.

Love,
Gwen

Monday, July 26, 2010

Heat Knocked Some Sense into Him

Dear Emery,

Congratulations on your engagement to Angela!!

I couldn't be happier for you. You first showed me a photo of her about 10 years ago when we were at a family reunion and in your customary way, had a story or two to tell about her. The two of you visited me here in DC (photo at G'town Harbor) two years ago this week and what fun we had -- just as hot now as it was then.

How you found such a beautiful woman on the inside and outside, who is as TALL as you are, fate only knows.

The two of you belong together and quite frankly, she has put up with more from you that most young women would. So consider yourself lucky, run to the alter and capture this fabulous woman before she gets away.

Love, Aunt Gwen



Saturday, July 24, 2010

Can I Have Some Wine With That Whine?


Dear Marianne and Laura,

Friday nights just wouldn't be the same without gathering for "Wine and Whine" a tradition we started when I was between men, Laura's hubby was off meditating and Marianne was new in town.

Sometimes it's more whine than wine, but rarely. Usually, we're bantering (loudly at times) over iPhones versus Blackberrys, whether tanning beds are bad for your health, and if we can outlive age discrimination in the work place. We agree on very little making it much more likely we'll eat the last piece of cheesecake and still open another bottle before midnight.

Oh, that's right. We did agree to forego vajazzaling and were surprisingly all in love with "Mama Mia."

I love to cook so thank you for letting me channel Martha Stewart week-after-week. Marianne, you love to sell and buy homes (your 3rd in 3 yrs.) so thank you for hosting. Laura, you love to travel so thank you for bringing exotic gifts (last night 'holy dirt') and stories from far away places.

Maybe "Wine and Whine" would make the perfect pilot series for a TV sitcom, "Married, Single, and Divorced" a.k.a. the "Golden Girls" with political, dating, literary and social commentary on anything that crosses our mind.

Next week's topic: EPL, movie versus book.

Love,
Gwen


Friday, July 23, 2010

Strawberry Fields Forever

Dear Aunt Lila,

It's always in the middle of the summer when I start thinking about you and my summers on your farm outside Portland, TN. Visiting you was an adventure -- your home a museum of family photos and handmade lace, your corn fields as far as I could see, and your energy everywhere.


"What can I fix you to eat?" was your constant mantra.

I can still hear you now, even though most of the time you were standing with your back to me cooking over a hot stove or putting homemade biscuits in the oven. Piled high on the counter were unshucked corn, tomatoes, squash, canteloupes, and something I refused to eat called spinach.

Late in the morning, we'd go strawberry pickin' and you showed me how to spot the best - the small, plump ones that were nearly lying on the ground ripened by the summer sun. Together we made shortcake, pies, turnovers, and jam and you let me play with the dough.


I thought of you today and made a cheesecake with the help of some dry ingredients in a box and a dash of lemon like you taught me and topped it off with layers of fresh strawberries sliced and positioned to resemble a star.

"Cooking soothes the soul," you once said to me.

And I needed that today. My best friend got word she has breast cancer and I was sad. And scared. And all I could do was cook something with strawberries and this was the best I could do. Thank you for those summers; I feel the farm and your strength with me and I will share it with my friend.

Love,
Gwen

Thursday, July 22, 2010

It Started with Fish Sticks


Dear Lynn,
It amazes me that such a wonderful, long-lasting friendship could originate over fish sticks but that's precisely what happened when we met in 1994 in a writing class at Georgetown University. Your first class reading was about growing up in Minnesota; mine was about what I ate for lunch.

From there we bonded immediately and sat for hours with our weekly writer's group at the Four Seasons hotel giggling over our creative writings on "big hair" and "little black dresses" and "the temptations of nuns." I don't think I've ever laughed so hard or so often.

Thank you for forging a friendship through silliness -- when does that ever happen anymore!

But it's been the more serious times we've shared that have deepened our bond -- when you came to Kentucky to help me clean out my parent's home after my mother's death, when you sat by my side in the emergency room with an irregular heartbeat and when you mentioned a lovely condo in Old Town was for sale that is my home today. I doubt what I've given to you -- a recommendation on jewelry, urging to get to the gym and the remnants of my mother's quilts -- has had anywhere near the impact on your life.

Thank you for being my friend whether we're practically living next door or many states away. That's the test of a lasting friendship and one I'm richly blessed to have.

Love,
Gwen

Monday, July 19, 2010

8,224 and counting

When my mother passed away in 1998, I faced the chore of cleaning out my parents' home of 35 years. A simple 3BR, 2BA ranch in Frankfort, Kentucky (pop. 24K) where I grew up with my older brother from the time I was 8, until college.

My mother was a keeper; I, by most accounts, am a tosser. She was sentimental; I hardly remember my closest friend's birthday. No suprise then that she had kept every letter, holiday greeting card, birth announcement, wedding invitation, scribbled note , etc. she had ever received. I started sorting them in piles taking time to read a few and pause for a moment, trying to recall what it must have felt like to receive this precious announcement or letter in the mail.

I stopped counting at 8,224.

No one writes letters any more and it's a shame. Part of history is being lost as we peck on the keyboard and push "send" in broken English and snippets of chatter than can barely be deciphered. I miss letters. I miss getting them and writing them.

This blog, "Love, Gwen" is simply a place to write letters to people I know and care about and people I cross paths with who will probably never know they were on my mind. I know I should get out pen and paper. But sometimes, as a writer, what comes to my mind comes more vividly if my fingers are moving quickly. I will save my penmanship for my journals.

Love,
Gwen