Hello folks,

Thank you for signing up for my newsletter/blog. As you will see, I’ve included the first episode of Gram’s Story, along with a brief aside about one of my favorite topics: dogs.

Gram’s Story-Episode 1 “Hometown”

Laura Devane entered the Bellaire Senior Center on Wednesday morning. Sally Diggins, the Senior Center Director, had called her a month before to discuss teaching a seated yoga class once a week, and possibly offering some tai chi classes later in the year to a group of active seniors.

As Laura entered the front door, Sally appeared from her small office, having heard the front door open and Laura being greeted by Kelly, the Center’s receptionist. 

“Good morning, Laura. Welcome back. Were your ears burning? Our yoga group is anxious to see you and invite you to share a coffee break with them.” Sally’s voice lowered to a stage whisper and continued, “They’re curious about you and want to find out all about your life and history!”

Laura laughed and responded, “Well, there are no mysteries here. It will be nice to get to know them better.”

With Laura’s long silver braided hair, her flowing sunshine yellow tunic, and white yoga tights, she seemed to float to the designated exercise room of the community senior center. She was strong, fit, and focused in her movements, exuding quiet confidence and self-awareness, based on decades of health and energy practices.

“Good morning, folks.  It’s great to see all of you today. Are you ready for a calming but enlivening yoga practice this morning?”

She was greeted by smiles, head nods, and a few loud comments.

“You bet,” Eugene called.

“We’re ready!” said Peggy.

“We’ve been waiting for a whole week for you!” Shirley’s loud, brash voice called out. And the group laughed as they settled into their seats. 

Each student sat in a sturdy folding chair, supplied with a yoga block underneath for selected movements, and donated by Laura for the center. Laura wondered who had remembered that the blocks were useful and distributed them before class. She decided to ask at the end of the session.

Laura began the class with slow, deep breathing techniques to help the members engage and focus.  Iona, a well-groomed, white-haired woman, very tidily dressed in a well-coordinated knit pantsuit, watched intently and followed along with concentration. Laura found in later conversations that Iona was a retired elementary school teacher.

She observed each member for signs of fatigue, impairment in posture or movement, or evidence of previous injury or weakness that she needed to be aware of in her instruction. She marveled at the differences in each student’s approach to the movements, remembering that old maxim that ‘as we age, we grow neither better nor worse, but become more like ourselves.’ Indeed! We are a collection of unique individuals.

The practice moved from focused attention on their faces, moving down through their arms and hands, trunks, legs, and feet. By the time for savasana, or final relaxation, members were stretched, awakened, and ready for a quiet respite, coming back to some deep breathing techniques to refresh them.  

Laura thanked her participants and was about to move from her chair when Loraine, a petite African American woman, approached her. Loraine had participated with exuberance and obvious familiarity with yoga and its traditions and movements.

“Laura, we’re so excited you’re going to teach us. We wanted to invite you to our coffee breaks after class each week. We get together and talk for a while, and would love to get to know you better.” She leaned in closely and said in a confidential tone, “A lot of us are just curious about you and want to know more about you!”

Laura chuckled. “That’s funny. I’m not sure I ever created this much excitement about my background, but I’m pretty much an open book. I’d love to join your group for coffee breaks!’’

*

The class members and Laura moved to a room with a small kitchenette where light meals were served throughout the day. As she sat at one of the tables where her class members sat, Laura asked, “I forgot to find out who distributed the yoga blocks from last week.”

“I did. I hope that was alright,” Peggy said.

“Absolutely. That saves us a lot of time. Thank you!” Laura smiled at Peggy, who appeared a bit younger than her colleagues, with dark, dyed brown hair, carefully applied makeup, and wearing upbeat and youthful, colorful clothing and jewelry.

Eugene piped in, with a tone meant to change the subject, “How did you end up coming from New Mexico to a small town in central Virginia?”

As coffee was served to the group by Peggy and Shirley, memories flooded Laura instantly, some tender and warm, and others dark and empty. She pictured her comfortable family home in Norenville, Virginia, her mother’s healthy home-cooked meals, and her father’s busy medical practice just next door. She glimpsed herself and her older brother, Aaron, laughing during “Happy Days” and “The Brady Bunch.” 

Forcing herself out of her reverie, Laura focused on Eugene’s friendly, genuine smile and his tall, gangly frame as he sat down next to Iona. 

“I’m originally from Virginia, just down the road in Norenville. I grew up there and started college at U.Va. My father was a physician, a general practitioner, who believed both of his children should study medicine. My brother was two years older than I, a great athlete, extremely active, and fascinated by the idea of a military career. He enlisted in the Air Force, hoping to receive special operations training and benefit from paid college tuition when he felt ready to pursue college studies.

I have always been interested in health and complementary health practices, but didn’t want to pursue a degree in medicine. I wasn’t interested in the cost, intensity, or time commitment.”  Lorraine, a retired nurse, nodded her beautifully braided head of hair in acknowledgement and smiled in apparent agreement as her liquid brown eyes crinkled while she and Laura shared a moment of understanding.

“There were many heated discussions at the dinner table about our decisions, with Mom being the peacekeeper, reminding Dad that the children had to make their own decisions about how to live their lives. Just as long as they remained kind, responsible, and healthy, she said.

I began college studies at U.Va., majoring in biology. During my second year, however, the family received word that Aaron had participated in and been killed in a special operations mission somewhere in the Middle East. I was devastated to lose my buddy, but my parents were torn apart. Each felt guilt and rage at themselves for what they perceived they did, didn’t, and could have done to change the outcome of this horrific loss. They also projected those feelings onto each other. After the initial raging and mourning, it was as if Aaron became more prominent in each of their lives than he had ever been when he was alive. Each day was spent thinking about Aaron, what he would be doing now, what he might have been doing now if he had made different choices.  

While I loved my brother and missed knowing he was in the world and would return home someday, I did not want to live with his ghost, and did not want to be the invisible sibling in the family.  It became time for me to create my own independent life.  I decided to move west, where several programs were being developed in holistic health techniques, in Santa Fe, New Mexico; Boulder, Colorado, and Big Sur, California. My parents, in their current unengaged state, simply agreed to help me fund my studies to receive a practical certification.”

Iona quietly rose from the table and, with tears in her eyes, approached Laura. “May I give you a hug? Your life’s history and your kindness and openness are a gift to us. Thank you!” The two lovely women embraced warmly.

“Thank you for listening,” Laura said to the group.  “That was probably more information than you bargained for!”

“Oh no,” Shirley called loudly. “Next week we want to hear about your love life!” And she tossed her red hair, and wiggled her eyebrows, along with her rather broad hips. 

The group laughed and yelled their ‘goodbyes’ and ‘thank-yous’ as Laura waved, calling, “I’ll see you in a week for the next episode!”

About Dogs…

English Setters are slender, elegant dogs. They are known for their gentle, friendly nature. English Setters are good family pets, affectionate, intelligent, and responsive. They love to run, play fetch, and interact with their family.

Several years ago, I had a lovely English Setter named Sam. English Setters are part of the hunting dog category and are among the oldest breeds of hunting dogs, or so I’ve read. They are often used for bird hunting and will fetch downed birds; they also point with their foreleg and tail when they spot one in the brush.

I’m certainly not a huntress, but I love the beauty of these white and black, brown, or caramel-spotted dogs with long, wavy hair. I especially admire their quiet, loving nature and their gentleness.

In my efforts to continue my writing journey, I worked on a YA novel, Bridges of Resilience, featuring a beautiful black and white English Setter named Harry, who embodies all the positive traits I mentioned earlier, along with being smart and capable of helping to solve a mystery.   He was so smart and lovable, I included him in my current release, Disappearance at Sycamore Grove: A Journey of Courage, Forgiveness, and Acceptance.

Thank you, my friends,

Suanne