I can also be very messy with my creativity. This is a rewrite of Still Laughing. It's not quite as egocentric as my first attempt... but it also might be missing a certain elan. No matter - I like this version better. Not quite as messy.

Oh, and this isn't the Vanderbilt article. It's just me cleaning up my journaling. :)

***************************************************************************************

Quite a few years back I visited a friend's mother in a nursing home. While she and her roommate slept I moseyed about their room. The roommate slept on her side, face away from me. All that poked up from the sheets was a huge Q-Tip of white hair. I peeked over her bed to catch a glimpse of her face, which was crumpled with wrinkles. Her lips were sunken, her skin gossamer thin with no hint of poetry. Yet on the wall beside her bed were photographs of the most beautiful woman. This woman had eyes that danced with laughter and love and new beginnings and a special boyfriend she married and who gave her children and grandchildren and so much more. Because I studied the photographs so very carefully, the images have never left me. Like gravestone rubbings, my mind is marked forever with her time capsule, which drew my imagination into all kinds of directions and possibilities.

The thing is... this woman with the Q-Tip head was so much more than a Q-Tip and that is what I think of these days.

Let me explain:

In recent years I've crossed that invisible line to become a senior citizen. I'm not quite yet elderly but I'm starting to exhibit the signs. My appearance has taken a leap from the high diving board of life... and belly flopped. I've gained weight. I don't try to apply my drugstore make-up any more. Most days I have Einstein hair. What hasn't changed is my laughter. It rings as pure and true and irreverent as ever. This is important. I laugh a lot. I embrace life with such gladness and enthusiasm. I laugh. And then I laugh some more.

I go to the Dayani Center at Vanderbilt Medical in Nashville as often as possible. I love it there. The energy is empowering, and I credit the staff because they greet us each day with a sense of renewal.

These amazing people see herds of broken bodies creaking into the Center... often leashed to oxygen. Most of us are old and quite pitiful looking - well, especially me with my Einstein hair. So, it got me to thinking today... we didn't always look like this. We were once young and oozed promise and dreams and hopes with infinite days to accomplish them. We all had smooth skin and jaunty steps and glistening hair and clear eyes and supple lips. We did! We really did!

The good folk of Dayani can't rejuvenate all that we no longer have, but they do give us something valuable. They give us hope... and as they strengthen our bodies, our spirits are strengthened, too. This is such good medicine.

So much is available to maximize the quality of life I want. There's pulmonary rehab, weekly lectures jammed with good information, breathing classes, a nutritionist, counseling, and that indefinable essence of hope that imbues my days.

Anyway, below is a small batch of the photos I want people to remember when they see my Q-Tip head.







Ahhhh, yes, my Einstein hair. I'm participating at MountainTop, which is one of my favorite destinations in the whole wide world.