Welcome to Following the Whispers blog
Thank you so much for taking the time to visit. Hope you enjoy your stay. I blog here whenever I feel the need. This blog was created at the time my memoir came out, in February, 2009. Its motto was: creating a life of inner peace and self-acceptance from the depths of despair. Now, my focus is sharing this journey we call life.
“Only one thing is more frightening than speaking your truth, and that is not speaking it.” Naomi Wolf
“We are called human beings, not human doings.” Wes Nisker, Buddhist teacher
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs…(And) if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.” Theodore Roosevelt
Monday, July 27, 2009
Telling the Truth
My husband was born in Plainview, in the Texas Panhandle. There were seven siblings on his father's side and 20 first cousins resulting from their marriages. 18 are left and 16 of them came to Wimberley, Texas for this reunion, along with their offspring and their offspring's offspring. In all, five generations of Walkers gathered at the Homestead Cabins, the oldest 94, the youngest, five years old.
I was born in the Bronx, New York. I'm culturally Jewish. One of my husband's cousins put together a videotape featuring their grandmother, whom everyone called Nanny. She lived to be 100 years old. The interviews occurred when she was 94. All 70 of us were gathered in the meeting room, listening to Nanny talk about her daddy. Seems he'd been taken prisoner in New York. At first I thought she was talking about WWII, but soon realized she meant the Civil War. I was the only Yankee in the room and my first thought was, Nanny would have hated me.
Being the only anything (Jew, Yankee, girl, gay person, Black person, whatever) is hard. It's what makes us feel like outsiders. But think about it, aren't we all outsiders for one reason or another? Even within family units, there are Republicans, Democrats, people who root for the White Sox or the Yankees, those who like the 103degree temperature in Austin, and those who can't breathe there.
It was a lovely event, but it is equally lovely to be home, back in my routine. At least for the next two days, until we leave for folkdance camp on Wednesday. Till tomorrow,