The
first Mark Ryan panel sewn into a Quilt block.
Himself: Fixed
the dishwasher. This is major! Comic Con starts Thursday and he can pick up
his 4 day badge today at a hotel in the valley.
Lessa’s Birthday meeting and museum opening Friday night, and next week
a conference in OC for two days. He was
mesmerized by the Slumdog Millionaire.
Herself:
Very powerful movie last night. Had
a couple of revelations. I was sleeping more
and more during the day until G added a little real coffee to my morning jolt
yesterday. Must be the new BP med. I’m not impressed. It’s frightening to doze off unexpectedly and
often.
Reading:
The last of the Crider’s I own.
Waiting for the Castillo’s to arrive.
Balance:
Waking up.
|
The last few
years, I have been worried that I was making little contribution to the
world. Oh, we all do things like recycle,
and many of us volunteer but that didn’t seem enough.
In the past, perhaps even involuntarily by being in the
right place at the right time, I’ve actually done a few things that made a
difference. Don F and Paul H were two of
the folks who got the Peace and Freedom Party started here in San Diego. I was married to Paul. I was friends with Mike C when he began the
movement to save the Tijuana Sloughs as a nature area. Until I went mad as a hatter with drugs and
alcohol, I made a serious contribution to what is now known as Border
Park. Pigheadedly I refused to go to the
park’s ribbon cutting because it was done by Patricia Nixon.
Later Grumpy and I spent a few years hauling fabrics and things
to AIDS Quilt Workshops. Although I was
officially the Workshop Chairperson, Stir Margaret really ran those workshops. I found a niche helping design and cut out
the panels themselves. G and I together also
helped put on the displays and were the last three to close down the Quilt here
in San Diego.
I feel that my participation in these things really made a
difference. But what had I done since
then?
Nancy
and Shirley presenting the second Mark Ryan panel.
Unloading stuff on Saint Vincent DePaul’s loading dock, shelving
books, now sorting books often seem more like heavy labor than helping
others. I keep on doing it, but the
truth is that I haven't been able to see beyond myself.
I walked into the downstairs bathroom for a toothbrush the
other day, and saw the lemon candle that Nancy Ryan gave me at the last
workshop. Nancy Ryan really made a
difference to a lot of people. Nancy
didn’t do anything big. She physically
didn’t change the world, but what she did do was change hearts.
Nancy
pinning the second Mark Ryan panel.
Nancy Ryan showed up every week to help make AIDS Quilt panels
for others. Nancy made two panels to
honor her delightful son who died of AIDS.
Nancy was always there like a golden light no matter the pain of cancer,
no matter her struggles with chemotherapy, no matter how tired or down she
really felt. Her hat perched squarely on
her head, Nancy made a difference in a lot of lives.
Today when I go to shuffle an exceptionally large pile of
books at the Discovery Shop, I will keep Nancy Ryan’s actions in my mind. Perhaps something I do now will make a
difference in a life later. Who
knows. I certainly have to stop taking
my actions so seriously. Nancy didn’t.
Nancy
with Stir Margaret and the sewing sisters at a panel conference.
