June 30

When humankind realizes we are all moving toward the same destination, maybe we will stop fighting about which roadmap to use.

1966 - Mexico City!

And here I am! I’m staying with a nice little old lady and her mother. I have a roommate who works at Volkswagen. Her two brothers study at the University. 

We got lost for a while, but Mr. D was “in control at all times”. We saw maybe 5,000 men all walking along the road. They were on a pilgrimage, I think.

1982

The last day for the ERA – – this time. It will pass, someday. Kiddo’s been a real good kid lately, but the library plan won't work. There's no air conditioning there and it's hot as blazes. I don't think I'll take her there unless it's a cool day. So on to plan B – – wherein I go to the library alone, in the evening. Better I should be hot than she should be hot, too. I got lots done today, and somehow the project doesn't look so impossible. I have six weeks to work on it – – hard!

Also six weeks to learn to combine research and motherhood.

1987

Well, as of tomorrow I am on sabbatical - - a year of no teaching, no advising, no meetings, no schedule except whatever I devise, and no money. Not quite that bad, really…I do get $18,500 for doing whatever I come up with. So it had better be good! I am mostly looking forward to it. I think we’ll survive, though it may be a tight twelve months. But we’ve lived cheap before and we can do it again. And I am definitely looking forward to the time with the Kiddos. At last! Time to be an at-home Mommy, if only for a year! It will work out, somehow. 

1993

St. Joseph, MO.

It has been a trip! In the many days since I last wrote, we traveled across America to Nebraska and started the return journey. We’ve kept the driving to about 5-6 hours a day, stopped and enjoyed our surroundings, traveling at a relaxing pace. Nashville and St. Louis were both pleasant surprises. Nashville had a great science museum, and St. Louis was a lively city, full of history. We visited Laura Ingall’s Wilder’s home in Mansfield, MO and I was thrilled to see Pa’s fiddle. Kansas City got short shrift, I’m afraid. All we saw was the mall next door to the hotel. The drive to Lindsborg was beautiful, at least to me: the space, the fields stretching out forever. The family reunion was really nice. Cousin Pat was there, and Debbie and Tom. Also Aunt Rosemary, whom I always enjoy. We are only 15 years apart, and are more like cousins than aunt and niece. Perhaps the most fun was watching the kiddos building family ties with my cousins’ children. I hope they stored up many happy memories for the future. Lindsborg is a charming town, friendly neat and clean. We visited the studio of an artist who made folk toys out of wood and fabric that were truly magical. The whole house was enchanting; full of whimsey.

From Lindsborg we went on to McCook and North Platte. The high plains were as breathtaking as I remember them: full of sky! I was frequently near tears or in tears behind my sunglasses as we approached North Platte. Coming from the south, we saw it first from the crest of a hill, a broad green oasis in between two rivers. I could see the Pawnee Hotel and the viaduct, and the grain elevator. I worried about getting in touch with my parents’ friends after 36 years, but needn’t have. They all made me a warm, cordial welcome, reminding me of what I had most missed when I left. The West is a harsh place filled with friendly people. Life is easier in the East, but living was better in North Platte, at least for 8-year-old me. I went to see all the special places: Cody Park, downtown, the train tracks. Many were smaller than I remember them. Some were changed, and a few were gone. But for the most part, North Platte was just what it always was: a safe, clean, friendly place. Certainly a good place to start out, if not a place to hold young people once they had their wings. I felt a twinge sorrow upon leaving, but am resolved to go back again.

1997

Wow! Nearly a week has passed since Mom died. I feel almost guilty about how much easier this has been then Dad's death 2 1/2 years ago. What makes it so? 

1) Mom's preparations, which eased her mind before her death and mine after.

2) my more complete relationship with Mom, compared with the unfinished business surrounding me and Dad.

3) the circumstances of her death, which made her passing a blessing for her in so many ways.

4) her faith, which prepared her so well mentally and emotionally.

5) my faith, which helped me find meaning in the experience of grief.

6) our disagreements, which had sharpened and defined our beliefs for ourselves and deepened our understanding of each other.

I compare the impact of Dad’s and Mom’s lives, and begin to appreciate the true value of spiritual seeking, which I think Dad often avoided. He really was looking for stability and found meaning in friendships and, to an extent, in possessions. "What profits a man if he gains the world but loses his soul?" Dad had a stunted ability to be open and give himself emotionally, but that went back to his own troubled childhood. It was easy for him to connect with me when I was little tomboy Jo; but the older and more womanly I became, the more he moved away. That’s the unfinished business. It was a treat having Bob around for a few days. I used to look at him and try to see the boy he was. But that is as impossible as to have looked at the boy and seen the man. And ultimately useless – – far better just to enjoy him as he is.

Mom –

It is good that we lived so close that we could talk – and argue – about religion. By doing that, we drove each other toward our own truth, each along different paths. But I believe that spirit  (God, if you prefer) pulls us all in the same direction. We each take different paths, because we stand in a unique place. The north pole doesn't move but not everyone would travel the same route to get there. It doesn't really help someone from Bogota to get directions to the north pole from someone in Seoul. Only the simplest directions are useful – go north. Follow the drinking gourd. Follow the star. When humankind realizes we are all moving toward the same destination, maybe we will stop fighting about which roadmap to use.

We travel to the same end as individuals, and as a species. As individuals we travel toward a known end – – death – – and an unknowable end (whatever lies beyond). As a species we travel toward an even larger mystery – – the world of the future with or without humans, and eventually without a planet. How are these destinations related, and how does our understanding of them affect our lives?

2024

In a few hours, the Thomas Leighton will deliver me back to Portsmouth, New Hampshire. It’s been a fabulous two weeks on this island, but I am ready to leave. Or maybe “and I am ready to leave” is better. Funny little words, aren’t they? The poetry workshop in week 1 has made me even more attuned to words, and I hope that sticks. Week 1 also slowed me down so that I was already in rocker-on-the-porch mode when the Week 2 conference started. That should be “conference” because multigenerational conferences on Star Island are a chaotic stew of music, deep conversation and laughter.

Peace out. Maybe more from the mainland.