Words to Remember

She was tall, dark and attractive, wearing a brightly colored t-shirt. She was difficult to miss. I was busy finishing up my laundry for the week and briefly noticed her. As usual, I was focused on my chores for the day, but as I left the laundromat she walked up to me and said, "I love your writing."

I was taken aback and asked, "Do you mean my blog?" At this time I had been mulling over an idea for my weekly blog.

"No, I didn't know about your blog. I mean your books. I love your books."

"Which ones?"

"All three. I have all of them and I love them all. I admire your spirit."

This was something I had not heard before. Yes, people told me about this or that book that they had read, but this was a first for me to hear appreciation for all three of my books. Of course I loved hearing the praise. My attention had passed from those books and was now centered on my blog and other writings such as a monthly newsletter. So much the better to hear this woman remark on my books that I had spent considerable time on in the past. If the books are not forgotten and the people I wrote about, my time will have been well spent. It warmed my heart to realize that those that I had interviewed in my last two books, and those I had recalled in my first book, will, for some reader, some day, some where, be thought about and remembered.

Ah, yes, my time was well spent.

Brrrrrrrrrrr

We are definitely not used to these extreme low temperatures in our "banana belt" of South Dakota. Not since moving here from Minnesota in 1998 have we felt this cold. This week we might as well be back in Minnesota. (Just kidding).

Yesterday Bob and I went to a book signing at Prairie Edge store in Rapid City. It is an annual event that I have attended before for my other books, but we did not have 6 below in the middle of the day on previous signings. All of the other authors were there, but the crowds were rather thin. Most who came were bundled up from the elements and had braved the cold to take advantage of autographed copies of local author's books for holiday gifts, or wanted to partake of the hot food and beverages that the store provided.

Part way through the day an elderly couple stopped by. He had a cane and her face wore years of living among the many lines crossing her cheerful face. The couple did not appear overly dressed for the cold. The husband wanted to share his stories of his service to his country during WWII. After all, it was December 7th, the anniversary of the beginning of the war with Japan. The wife urged him on, hanging on his every word as if it were the first time she had heard his story. After encouraging him to finish his tale of service so many years ago, the couple walked off to meander through the store, taking their time to enjoy the many splendid displays in the various rooms.

Later in the day, as we were winding up our time promoting our books, the couple strolled back by our table. The woman saw me and quickly said, "I so enjoyed our visit with you. What a pleasant day we had."

My admiration was as much for the faithful wife as for the husband's service to our country. Seventy years after her husband shipped out from Hawaii to occupied Japan, this remarkable woman was at his side, ignoring the bitter cold, helping to keep his story alive for all of us later generations.

As the two left the store, the day no longer seemed so cold.

Recalling Pollyanna

One of my favorite childhood books was the first one about a little girl who lived her life searching for the positive in every situation. This outlook on life was taught to her by her father when she received a pair of crutches at Christmas and he told her she should be glad that she did not need them. All of her adventures, through a series of books, were flavored with that positive outlook but, in time, the Pollyanna books grew out of favor and were ridiculed by "those in the know." Some of this came about from those who used this "glad game" to the extreme.

I remember hearing those "Oh, don't be so Pollyannish" remarks from the more sophisticated folks and I gradually drifted from that philosophy of life, at least, in any obvious manner. Thankfully, in time I came to appreciate staying in the middle of extremes instead of abandoning an idea entirely.

Perhaps I still cling to the attitude of looking on the bright side since, unaware to me until someone pointed it out, I usually end my stories, blogs or chapters on a hopeful note. For that I am grateful.

Also I am grateful for growing up in a solid, loving family, in a safe community, attending excellent schools and receiving encouragement for seeking a higher education and an attitude of taking care of myself. I was lucky. All of these advantages were given to me. I could have been born in a poverty-stricken country or the inner cities of our own country. I could have been raised in a dysfunctional family with the abuse and neglect that often follow. But I was born with many advantages and so I should be able to look on the positives in life. Usually it is not difficult for me to observe those who constantly criticize, look on the negatives in life and lash out at anyone and everyone and be grateful that I do not have that outlook, or if I get enmeshed in it for a while, I have a reminder from some one or some thing that gloom and doom outlooks just bring me down to "being stuck in the mud of negation."

Controversy and disagreements can be good. They may bring reflection and growth. I am also grateful for those who like to put the knife of criticism in and turn it slowly. They may be disliked, or largely ignored, but they do make me appreciate all the more those folks who remain calm, polite, kind and focused on trying to make the world a better place, be it ever so simple or slight.

Hello, once again to Pollyanna. May her spirit always remain when we need a pull out of that mud.

Only Thirty Minutes

I held his hand while he stared at the clock on the wall.

"I have thirty minutes", he said.

I continued to hold his hand.

"I'll stay with you", I told him as I held his hand.

After a time he looked at me and said, "Sometimes I think I should have gone with the others on Guadalcanal".

His words broke my heart. I know from his testimonial he gave me a few months back, that his service during the Battle of Guadalcanal as a medic, and later, as a prisoner of war, was a terrible time, etched in his memory over a lifetime of struggles and joys - both the good and the bad. I believed nothing could have been worse than those weeks during World War II. But I was wrong. His dying, facing him at this moment, was his only struggle, fresh and painful, while his years in the South Pacific had faded in comparison.

"I'm sorry", was all I could say, but I stayed and held his hand.

After thirty minutes had passed he repeated, "I have thirty minutes".

I stayed for another thirty minutes, and another. I waited until his wife arrived for her daily visit to him at the VA hospital.

"I couldn't leave him alone", I told her. He thinks he is going to die soon".

He lived for a few more days. he died on a Sunday and, as far as I know, he was alone. His wife arrived a short time later. I hoped that some nurse or attendant had been with him. I don't know, but I don't feel that anyone should leave this life without someone by their side, someone holding their hand, someone listening to their final words.

My consolation is that his story, his words of his years of service, will live on. They will be in my next book, VOICES OF VETERANS, which will include stories from WWII through the present conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan.

His words will be a testimonial to his life and to the service of all of our veterans.

To the Honorable Eric Shinseki

It's all about hope, unity and commitment to the cause of all veterans. We continue on with one voice. We knew from the beginning that this would be a long, difficult struggle. We have been meeting, planning, making posters and writing letters, all in preparation for a visit from the Secretary of Veterans Affairs in Washington in response to an invitation from our congressional officials from South Dakota, Nebraska and Wyoming. You can read their letter on our website, theveteranstown.com. Please visit it.

The following is one of my letters to the one who will make the final decision regarding the future of the VA in Hot Springs, SD.

Oct. 13, 2012

Dear Secretary Shinseki:

You have recently received a letter from the congressional representatives from South Dakota, Wyoming and Nebraska regarding keeping our VA in Hot Springs, SD. They all realize that saving this VA in its present location is very crucial to the health and well-being of veterans from the Indian reservation who face a huge hardship if they have to travel further for their health care, and who are treated with respect at this facility. This is also of importance to rural veterans from Nebraska and Wyoming. Another critical reason is that the veterans with PTSD and addiction issues recover better in the serene atmosphere of a small town, separated from the triggers they encounter in the larger cities.

I have interviewed many veterans from all branches of service and from all conflicts who use this VA for their care. They are passionate about saving this VA, and are increasingly mistrustful of a government who is taking away their lifeline to sanity, sobriety or physical well being.

I am capturing their testimonials in my next book, Voices of Veterans. This book will include the passion of the veterans, along with the fervor of a community known as "The Veteran's Town." This small community came up with a brilliant and innovative proposal which was largely ignored by your administrators who were appointed under your watch. This proposal will not only save the taxpayers and the VA money, but it will enhance the much needed treatment for our many returning veterans.

Please listen to the voices of our veterans, most of whom live in the rural areas or the reservations. Many from urban areas, such as Denver, choose this facility because of the exceptional and personal care, and also because of the tranquility of the surroundings.

We are looking forward to your visit so that we can show you first hand this facility and community of which we are so proud.

Very sincerely,

Mary Goulet

Racism Revisited Again and Again

One of my all-time favorite books is Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird." I frequently re-read books I loved, but this is the only one that I finished one night about ten o'clock, laid it on my bookstand for a few minutes, picked it back up, and re-read it from cover to cover during the rest of that night.

I read it to my eighth grade English class one semester. One by one the books appeared on the desks of my students until almost the entire class had purchased their own copy. I knew then that I was not the only one to learn and be captivated by this masterpiece.

The message, "You never understand another until you climb into his skin and walk around in it" was embedded in my consciousness. During my years of discovering my own racism emerging I recalled that message.

I broaden the word racism to include all forms of prejudice. I acknowledge it when I am biased against the opposite sex. How often have I misunderstood my own husband, realizing in time that some of my frustration involved the fact that he is male and I am not? How many parents are confused and confounded by their teenager, who is certainly from another planet at times? It can start when the rebellious two year old discovers the power of the word "no". Age, sex, political, religious, race and any other "differences" between two or more people can cause anger, misunderstanding and separations.

Color and cultural differences are at the root of many clashes in our world, just as problems erupt between parents, parents and children, and neighbors and friends, greater disparities often occur between groups with a larger physical separation.

What lessens the divide among people is dialogue and very active listening. Even then can we ever totally understand another person, even those close to us? It can take a lifetime of togetherness and listening to close the gap between a couple. If both work at it, the closeness increases.

If there is physical and cultural separation, the struggle for understanding is more difficult, but it is often through this struggle that we come to understand ourselves more fully.

In reflection, I know that even living inside of my skin for a lifetime I do not always understand myself, but I do know this, the more I uncover who I am with my hopes and fears, strengths and weaknesses, the clearer is my understanding of others. Close and empathetic friends and paid listeners such as psychotherapists, can speed up our understanding of ourselves and others. In the end, we are, after all, more alike than different, no matter our color, background, family or culture.

We can choose to disagree while still accepting others for who they are, and who they are attempting to become. Life is all about becoming, after all is said and done. To me the greatest adventure is discovering myself and a tiny part of the others who share my world.