I know you're all on tenterhooks wondering what ended up happening on the hair front. I went back yesterday afternoon and resumed my combing and dousing and tugging. We were finally reduced to one angry rat's nest about a tenth of the size of the original host, and Beth had to undergo yet another surgical procedure--this time with my nail scissors. Suffice to say that she was left with an (almost) full head of beautiful locks by the time our session was complete.
Beth has really noticed the positive impact of the notes, cards and comments she has received since this whole adventure began, and would love to keep hearing that chorus of encouragement if we have the time to sing it. She draws a lot of strength and determination from our belief in her power to heal. Feel free to comment here, or if you want a less public forum to drop her a note, her address at the hospital is:
Elizabeth Davis
Boulder Community Hospital, Room 408
1100 Balsam Ave.
Boulder CO 80304
And speaking of being grateful for support: sincere thanks for the kudos about the blog--I really appreciate the feedback.
I hosted the toasting circle at Beth's 50th birthday party three years ago and read a poem as part of my piece that night. I had recently undergone a huge life change, and this poem was my touchstone during some pretty dark nights of the soul. I thought at the time that it was also a good one for Beth...
...but these days, I think it's even better.
The Journey
by Mary Oliver
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.
Congratulations, Beth!!! You have made it back to Boulder and closer to home! As a girl with long, curly, thick hair, I can just imagine Linda struggling with your tangled locks... Yikes! You have the most amazing friend in her. The thought crossed my mind that I wondered if anyone would do that for me if I were in a similar situation? Your journey of recovery is inspiring and reflects so beautifully on the amazing person that you are and always will be. Looking forward to the time when I can see you! Love and Hugs always, Carol
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