in 2008 while perusing a local newspaper I saw a listing for a writer's group at The Women's Center in Huntington...I had been writing since elementary school...that first book of poetry was a soft-covered composition book...now buried deep in a plastic bin of memorabilia...I had been hoping to really write...structured with gentle critique...support...writing can be a lonely calling...and so I joined this group of remarkable women...I've always felt my writing has been the better for this decision...but not as much as my soul...the road of life is not linear...and it can be hard...everyone needs a safe place to land...and for me one of those important places has been Tuesday mornings...reading, listening, laughing and crying...at the First Church on Main Street...the Cold Spring Harbor Library...and now, on my computer screen...Zooming...our faces reduced to Brady Bunch squares...talent and wit intact...given the harshness of 2020...a pandemic eroding life as we knew it...perhaps it is only fitting, in the cruelest of ironies...that we lost two gifted beautiful women from this group...two voids that can never be filled...in January, Louella...and now, Lois...bookends...from a writer's view they were so different...each voice so unique...and then again...so similar in making their personal footnotes universal...I am sometimes lovingly called the baby of the group...although there have been a few women over these many years...peers born in Eisenhower/Kennedy years...but it truly never mattered...there really is no measure of years among kindred spirits...and for me, these women truly were that...how do we measure a woman's worth?...a thought we often ponder in the face of loss...Louella and Lois...their words will live on...in pages, CD's...in our memories and hearts...their worth a price above rubies...amen...
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