You've always been supportive and encouraged me to write. What you probably had in mind were stories about my adventures in Micronesia. I met fascinating people and saw beautiful places. I enjoyed sharing those stories with you, and making you laugh, but I never wanted to write them down. Sorry about that.
But, several years ago I began writing about my adventures with MS - insights, lessons, frustrations and rewards. I hope my writings will help someone else dealing with a difficult issue.
I grew up hearing you quote many adages, like "As thy days, so shall thy strength be." One of my favorites was, "Put your hand to the plow and plow the long, hard furrow." The image of plowing is attractive. Working with the land, planting, harvesting, sweating. But the furrow is indeed long, and the soil hard. This is a tough job. It requires patience and persistence. It can't be done in a day, a week, or even a year. It's a lifelong project that will often be tedious and frustrating. You showed me that even when something is mundane or unpleasant, I still have to do it. I need to keep my hand to the plow. That's what life is. Just keep plugging away.
You had a difficult life. Your mother died when you very young. You and your sister were raised by an invalid grandmother who was very strict. There wasn't much money. Despite all the hardships, life always seemed precious to you. You appreciated it, all the while working hard and giving so much to others. I don't recall you ever complaining.
During my 10 years in Washington, D.C., your 10-acre farm provided a sanctuary for me. My only acquaintances were co-workers, and everyone who works in Washington seems to disappear after work and on the weekends, going to their homes in Maryland or Virginia. I could either spend weekends by myself in Washington, or drive an hour and unwind on your farm. You named the farm "Far Country," after a line in the Bible that says, "The kingdom of heaven is as a far country." You and I both were at peace on the farm. Throughout those 10 years, I heard lots of quotes and stories. Many times. I watched you plow steadily through life.
I live in Maine now, but a piece of my heart will always be at Far Country with you. Thank you so much for everything, Grandmother. I love you. I'm trying to keep my hand to the plow.
These columns are for you.
(My grandmother died peacefully at Far Country in 2001 at the age of 99.)
Laurie Simpson is a Maine resident who writes candidly about her personal experience with multiple-sclerosis and has recently shared her work as part of the York Public Library's Writer's Night series.
