[stylist] Gratitude, a Reflection
Barbara Hammel
poetlori8 at msn.com
Mon Nov 12 19:44:07 UTC 2012
Wow! That's fascinating!
Barbara
Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance. -- Carl Sandburg
-----Original Message-----
From: Lynda Lambert
Sent: Monday, November 12, 2012 9:49 AM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: Re: [stylist] Gratitude, a Reflection
Thanks, Barbara. No, I used them without really thinking through it
carefully. I have been revising this all morning - again. I have made more
improvements to it and when I read back over it again with fresh eyes today,
the blunders stand out. Editing is in no way a strong skill of mine!
You know, I never really considered butterflies much before this time. For
me, it has always been dragonflies that inspire me and I have used the image
of dragonflies in my writing. Here in Western PA, the common word for a
dragonfly is, "snakefeeder." That is our vernacular. This is the only area
in the world that they are called this name.
When I lived in California for a couple of years, following graduate school,
I read something very interesting in the local newspaper. A woman had been
struck by a car and left along the highway, unconscious. She had amnesia and
later was in a special home for recovery. She did not know who she was or
what had happened to her. When they showed her flashcards, she responded to
the image of the dragonfly by calling it a "snakefeeder." This gave the
professionals there the direct link they needed to locate where she was
from. The located her home in the Pittsburgh area of PA. She had just moved
to CA to begin a new job as professor of a university in the Bay Area. This
little word had solved the mystery and they were able to figure out who she
was. Snakefeeder.
Lynda
Lynda Lambert
104 River Road
Ellwood City, PA 16117
724 758 4979
My Blog: http://www.walkingbyinnervision.blogspot.com
My Website: http://lyndalambert.com
----- Original Message -----
From: "Barbara Hammel" <poetlori8 at msn.com>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Sunday, November 11, 2012 10:46 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] Gratitude, a Reflection
> I'm wondering if you actually meant to use semicolons in the first
> paragraph--and maybe others too--instead of using commas?
>
> I see why this is definitely a very precious memory for you, not only
> because of your daughter, but because the butterflies seem to be a
> precious insect to you. (I love them, too.)
>
> Barbara
>
>
>
>
> Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance. -- Carl Sandburg
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Lynda Lambert
> Sent: Saturday, November 10, 2012 10:44 AM
> To: Writer's Division Mailing List
> Subject: Re: [stylist] Gratitude, a Reflection
>
> Here is my contribution to the writing prompt recently handed down by
> Chris. I will attach a copy of the Word document and I will copy/paste it
> below this message as well.
>
>
> "Butterflies Bring Healing" by Lynda Lambert
>
>
>
>
>
> In the spring time a myriad of flowers begin to scatter themselves
> over the acres of wild meadows and fields; along the rural roadsides; in
> meadows overlooking swiftly moving waters of the creeks. This is our
> annual dance of life forces, when the earth becomes warm and every living
> thing bursts forth in celebration. The movement of this dance comes forth
> in living color; in Western Pennsylvania.
>
>
>
> Months later, the dance of the butterflies and flowers comes to an end.
> The days will once again bring in the crisp mornings; the clocks will be
> turned back; the grass grows slick and cold; there eventually will be no
> more flowers or butterflies. There was one exception to this though, as I
> think about it today. I remember one miraculous afternoon in January,
> 2008. On that day, I watched quietly while two butterflies played together
> in the air; it was perfectly normal.
>
>
>
> When I see a butterfly it brings back a specific memory for me.
>
>
>
> It was over five years ago. I had just lost most of my sight. I had
> not yet had any help, and did not yet know about technologies that would
> help me, nor did I yet know of rehabilitation for the blind. I had no
> white cane; no way of doing anything I had done just a couple months
> before. Overnight, my entire life was transformed into something that was
> new and unexpected. I could not use the elevator; could not see the
> buttons to press; didn't know on what floor it had landed. Simple things
> like that, we took for granted, but those simple things were now a mystery
> to me.
>
>
>
> It was at this very time that my second daughter, Heidi Melinda, was
> diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Now, I stood at her bedside in the IC unit
> in a Pittsburgh, PA hospital. Her surgery to remove the tumor that had
> spread to a stage 3C cancer was completed a few days before. But nothing
> had gone well, and within a couple of days she was near death. They had
> put her in an induced coma to try to give her sick lungs the opportunity
> to begin to heal.
>
> Day after day, it was one step down after another.
>
>
>
> Even though I could not see very much, I was staying at the hospital
> day and night. I could find my way from the waiting room, to the bathroom,
> and to my daughter's room. I slept for short periods during the night,
> sitting in a chair in the waiting room of the IC unit. Then, I would walk
> back to her room, to sit by her bedside.
>
>
>
> She was kept in a coma for over 2 weeks. Nurses and doctors were at her
> side or directly outside her room working on the monitors and computers
> continuously, monitoring her, searching for the right mix of drugs to help
> her. We waited there in limbo as each day flowed into the next in this
> netherworld existence. There was nothing we could do but pray and wait.
> Family members came and went, all helpless.
>
>
>
> One afternoon I sat in the chair at the bottom of her bed with my eyes
> focused on her laying there with tubes and apparatus all over her body.
> The hospital staff had named Heidi, The Sleeping Princess. On this
> afternoon, the Sleeping Princess had two unexpected visitors. They did not
> come in through the door.
>
>
>
> As I watched Heidi, two enormous butterflies were there. They emerged
> from the base of her feet and they flew back and forth, playing with each
> other as butterflies do when you see them in a field. The two butterflies
> were a deep red crimson and they were the size of my hand. They were
> bright and very large. As I watched them, it was the most normal scene I
> could ever have seen. Heidi's body was the field over which they were
> zig-zagging back and forth over as they moved towards her head. It felt
> like I watched them for quite awhile. I believe it was probably only
> seconds. It was like an eternal moment, when time did not exist, and I had
> been a witness to timelessness.
>
>
>
> The butterflies had emerged from another dimension, it seemed. The two
> had made themselves visible to me. They gave me new hope for my daughter.
> I knew they were a pictorial symbol of the Holy Spirit. A Spirit made
> visible. I recognized that the Holy Spirit had come to visit the Sleeping
> Princess that afternoon and that this would be the afternoon when Heidi
> would begin to recover. I was assured at that moment when I saw this
> vision that my daughter would heal and that she had experienced a miracle.
>
>
>
> Today, after five years following surgery, Heidi remains free of
> ovarian cancer. This, in spite of the tests done in surgery that had
> shown the cancer cells were throughout her entire body. She undergoes
> tests and scans all the time in Pittsburgh. She has an entourage of
> doctors who are keeping a close watch on her.
>
>
>
> Heidi has lasting side effects from her surgery and her long recovery
> time. Her body remembers the trauma; is still responding to it. It is
> clear to me that our bodies do carry memories. Those memories in the
> entire body continue to have a response to the trauma it went through.
>
>
>
> Heidi is an artist. She has a studio in the woods, on a mountain
> top. She actively works at her art, and is in exhibitions including an
> international invitation one that her work is in right now.
>
>
>
> Shortly after she recovered, she organized The Sleeping Princess Team
> with her friends. The team raises money for the Ovarian Cancer Coalition
> of Pittsburgh. Last fall was the fifth year that the team and her family
> walked with her in the sunshine at the "Walk to Break the Silence." Our
> little team has been able to raise over $20,000. in funds to contribute to
> the cause.
>
>
>
> Yes, butterflies are harbingers; of renewal; transformation; healing;
> Divine presence; gratitude.
>
> This joyous dancing dyad of large crimson red butterflies, were a
> reflection of the Creator who sent them to me on a bleak winter day. It
> was a message that came at the darkest moment of my life; right on time!
>
>
>
> (the end)
>
> Copyright,2012. All Rights Reserved
>
> Posted on blog, June 1, 2012: Walking By Inner Vision
>
> http://www.walkingbyinnervision.blogspot.com
>
> Revised: 10 November, 2012.
>
>
>
>
>
>
> Lynda Lambert,MFA
> My Blog: http://www.walkingbyinnervision.blogspot.com
> My Website: http://lyndalambert.com
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
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