I ran away to join the circus…

“May, I love you with everything I am. For so long, I just wanted to be like you. But I had to figure out that I am someone too, and now I can carry you, your heart with mine, everywhere I go.” 

Substitute Jeanne for May in this quote about her sister written by Ava Dellaira in Love Letters to the Dead, and you may begin to understand the bond between my sister Jeanne and me.  An extremely treasured presence in my life, she is also a force to be reckoned with.  She is an Amazing Woman. She has written her own life narrative, literally and figuratively.  Here are her words…

I ran away to join the circus…..

Unlike Kurt Vonnegut, a favorite author and fellow Hoosier, from a very early age I aspired to get out of Indiana. And I did. First to Ann Arbor and University of Michigan, later to California and then Europe. My only returns were to visit family and friends or weddings and funerals.

I remember being 12 years old sitting on the stairs and listening to my mother’s friends expound on their life regrets, the lost opportunities of their youth. Deep inside my gut I made a promise to myself, that would never be me.  My second dream was to someday retire in Europe. Even as a kid I just felt somehow that I belonged there. I followed Andre Malraux project of cleaning all the national buildings in Paris following WWII. I read book after book of European history. My first visit was in 1969.

My second act, the get a serious job part, included returning to University, then law school while single with 4 kids. Luckily, we lived in southern California and the kids blossomed. I loved my practice and most of my alleged criminal clients and continued for years until one day I became ill.  And so my third act was prompted by the side effects of the strong medications I was taking. I realized I would have to consider retirement.  Luckily my children were educated and grown.

 I sold my practice, my house, my cars and a lifetime of accumulated stuff. I packed clothes, books and my kitchen tools, put 100 boxes of household items in storage and booked a flight to Lisbon.  Within 2 months I had bought an old stone casa on a hillside in a tiny village in southern Portugal as well as a beat-up old Citroen. 

For the next ten years I traveled Europe, entertained friends and family, made lots of new friends, gave historical tours of Paris, read, wrote and taught the villagers English.

It took five years for me to totally destress from my previous life. I would often sit on my shaded patio and just gaze across the long valley as Martine guided his wooly flock down ancient paths still followed by shepherds today. The hillsides are covered in cork, carob, citrus and olive trees with wild grasses and flowering vines climbing the ubiquitous rock walls.

One interesting afternoon my dear neighbor and I headed to a meadow to meet up with our local shepherd. We selected, killed and skinned a fat sheep, then Helena and I wrapped the carcass in plastic and lugged it onto her large kitchen table where with my novice assistance, Helena and I carved it into freezer size pieces for the winter. 

My neighbors seemed to know how to do anything our primitive life required. Manuel, the 3rd generation neighborhood blacksmith fashioned the long wrought-iron railing around my lower balcony as well as several beautiful gates.   I practiced Portuguese dishes but also love the amazing fare of every Parisian café.  Paris is a short plane trip so I took advantage of its proximity to visit often to wander the streets and buildings until I became familiar enough to act as a reasonable historical city guide.

It’s my belief that ten years away from the US saved my body and my mind. I learned; I grew: I relaxed. However, at some point it seemed clear that it was time to cross the ocean again and return home. I sold my casa and my trusty little Citroen. Had several parties with lots of vinho verde, my favorite Portuguese wine. I packed up my 80 boxes and a heart full of memories and headed west. 

Now, what is likely my last stand, I have landed in a charming artsy village south of my old stomping grounds of Ann Arbor.  The locals have welcomed me into their busy lives but I am especially fortunate to have found a group of bluehairs that I adore. They are brilliant, witty, creative and splendid company. 

But my philosophy is if given a choice between the comfy old recliner and a trip to watch the perfect sunset off the north African coast, I chose the sunset.  There will always be another recliner but not as many perfect sunsets. 

 Life is complicated in our third act.  We lose loved ones, we lose health and vigor, we lose old memories. We lose choices.  Yet we do gain perspective and wisdom and hopefully patience and are often better listeners. 

The circus merry-go-round is slowing down but we really don’t want to get off.

Meet Virginia…

The third woman in the Amazing Women Series is Virginia. Her resilience is inspiring to me.

*******

Make new friends but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold.  This little jingle from my girl scout days ran through my head as I sat at a round table in the front window of a little diner in my sister’s new hometown in Michigan.  Seated around the table were her au courant friends and there was a whole lot of silver going on.  Each woman was at least into her seventies and fully engaged in life and their hometown. They gathered here each week following their Thursday morning volunteer work sorting and shelving books at the local library. They come often enough that the waitress called one of the women “raisin toast extra dark”, her weekly order.  That woman is Virginia.  She sorts the children’s books.

Virginia grew up in Virginia and in 1956 she entered the same small women’s college that her grandmother attended, eventually making the decision to transfer to University of Virginia.  She described the university at that point in time as “a bastion of male superiority”, having only about 60 women on campus.  She graduated from the University with a degree in English and History and went in search of her future.

With her new degree in hand and feeling adventurous, Virginia knew she wanted to leave her home state. The 1950s and 60s were the height of prosperity in Flint, Michigan.  The school district had partnered with C. S. Mott Foundation and the result was a first-class school system and it was seeking teachers.  Virginia applied and was immediately hired. She considered teaching in this energetic environment a privilege, but that did not mean it wasn’t demanding.  By Friday night, she and her fellow teachers were ready to meet up at The Civic Park Bar and let their hair down.  One fateful Friday night, a favorite teaching friend of Virginia showed up with a boyhood friend. Virginia was drawn to this man’s intelligence and willingness to discuss (argue) politics with her. 

They married in 1965 and built a rich and fulfilling life together until he passed away in 2016, two months shy of their 51st anniversary.  During their marriage, they had two children and politics continued to be a popular topic in their home.  Over the years they traveled extensively, both domestically and internationally.  Virginia particularly treasures her memories of their bike trips in Europe, driving trips in England, and visiting their daughter who was living in Mexico.  They also traveled to Asia, Australia and New Zealand. 

Virginia and her husband on a trip to Mexico.

Sometime around 2004, Virginia began to notice subtle changes in her husband which became more pronounced, finally resulting in a diagnosis of Parkinson’s in 2006.  His mother had suffered the same disease, spending seven years in a nursing home, so Virginia was aware of her future challenges.  They made one last trip to Europe, but as he declined, they reached the point where it became necessary for him to stay home. No more dinners out, no more beloved concerts, no theater, no trips.  Over time, he was able to do less and less for himself. Virginia was fortunate enough to have help come in and assist with bathing and dressing.  Two weeks before his birthday in 2016, a bed opened up for him in a local assisted living facility for a two week stay.  Virginia would have a bit of respite from the constant care and regroup.  Sadly, he never came home, dying on his birthday.

Although rationally every committed couple realizes that one of them will go first, that still doesn’t prepare the heart.  Virginia acknowledges that she is a strong southern woman who is fairly self-sufficient, spending hours reading and attending events. Yet there are times she misses having someone to share moments in her life and the person so much a part of her memories.  

I haven’t spent a lot of time with Virginia, but I’ve had drinks at her house, been to the diner with her, and seen her working at the library.  She is engaging, funny and whip smart.  I asked her how after being married for a lifetime, she adjusted to not having the other person there and how she got on with living her life.  For Virginia, it was friends.  Too much time alone at home can hang heavy, so you just have to reach out and find something to do. Call a friend to have a cup of coffee.  No one available?  Take your magazine, go to the coffee shop, and look for friendly connections.  She admits it is not always easy, but her loyal friends have carried her through.  Those friends include many she has had for years plus some newer ones.  When married couples no longer asked her to do things with them, she discovered a brand-new pal to attend concerts with.  

As I approach the third act of my life, I question whether the girl scout ditty is quite accurate.  Virginia’s new friend she attends concerts with is every bit as important to her as those in her book group that she has known for years. The person she sees on a regular basis on her daily walk and gives a smile and a wave to is often a priceless gift in her day. Silver-haired friends, old and new, can be pure gold and enrich our lives beyond measure.  As we grow older, we realize happiness lies not in our bank account, but in our confidants, our sidekicks, and companions.  They are our treasures.

In the words of Ms. Virginia,

“There is a part of me that lives with the grief but a part that is still able to sit by the fire, listen to winter music, read beautiful poetry and know that in many ways, I’m blessed.”

C’est la vie.

You are capable of amazing things…

“You may want to sit down for this.”  This was the caveat my friend, Julia Tipton, used before revealing to others the adventure on which she and her husband Tracy were about to embark.  The news was certainly unexpected and astonishing, but for those of us who know Julia, it was amazingly true to her nature, and as it turns out, to Tracy’s.

I’ve known Julia for over 30 years, meeting her fairly soon after Mr. Smith and I moved to northeast Indiana in 1988.  We belonged to the same philanthropic organization, I took an exercise class she taught at the local Y, and we trained together for my one, and only, 5K race.  She has devoted her life to public education starting out as an elementary teacher, progressing to instructional facilitator for curriculum, to principal of an elementary school.   In 2019, Julia left public education when she was hired as the executive director of the new Community Learning Center in the town where she lives, helping to build a non-profit from the ground up. 

Julia and her husband Tracy met when they were in the eighth grade. They dated off and on through high school and college, eventually marrying in 1985. They filled their home with three active offspring, providing them with a safe space to grow and flourish. With the daunting task of parenting three children and successfully launching them into the world behind them, they were just beginning to truly relax into their “empty nest”, enjoying their adult children and their newfound freedom. 

The Sunday before Christmas 2018, they were walking into church when they ran into a friend who works for Hand in Hand International Adoptions. She shared she had just made a trip to Wisconsin to retrieve two children from an adoption situation which had turned dreadful.  Knowing how connected the Tiptons are in the area, she asked if they knew anyone who might be looking to adopt.  To say Julia was surprised when Tracy responded “Yes, us”, is an understatement. 

The two children who were brought back from Wisconsin, Jethro and Dorothy, are from the Philippines. They share the same mother but have different fathers.  Neither knew their father and they primarily lived with their maternal grandmother. 

The children’s odyssey began one morning when Jethro was 9 and Dorothy was 5.  In what must have been a painful decision, their grandmother had them pack a bag and took them on a boat to Manila. Once they arrived in Manila, Grandma walked them into Social Services and left them there.   Social Services took them to an orphanage and the two had no subsequent contact with their mother or grandmother.  

During their years at the orphanage, they hung onto the dream of finding their “forever family.”  They thought that had happened when a couple from South Carolina chose them as the children they wanted to adopt.  Along with apprehension, there was excitement and hope as they boarded the plane to South Carolina.  After a month there, the parents decided it wasn’t going to work out.  I cannot imagine what Jethro and Dorothy were thinking and feeling when they boarded their flight back to Manila. 

They returned to the private, non-profit child caring home they were at before the trip to South Carolina, somehow hanging onto the faith that life was going to work out ok. Eventually they were chosen for adoption by a second couple, this time from Wisconsin.  Once again, they boarded a plane and flew off to meet their forever family.  They lived with their prospective parents for over six months which ended shockingly with the mother’s suicide.  It was at this point, Julia and Tracy’s friend went to rescue the children from this tragic situation.

Tracy had often brought up the idea of fostering children during their marriage, but Julia so totally immersed in the public education system, felt she was “fostering” all day and was not  drawn to the idea.  But faced with the plight of these two children, now teenagers, who had endured so much in their short lives, Julia and Tracy talked.  What followed were hours upon hours of soul searching and a couple of sleepless nights.  The situation was critical and they didn’t have months to make a decision.  They brought their adult children in for a family discussion to get their insights and perspectives.  Then they came to a decision.  They would open their home and their hearts to these two orphans who had known so much disappointment in their lives and try to provide them with an environment in which to heal.

With the decision made, the adoption agency began the process of their investigation.  Before they knew it, Tracy and Julia received a phone call telling them they had been approved and the kids could move in to their home.  The first order of business was to decide where Jethro and Dorothy would go to school.  They were looking at three possibilities: the district Julia worked in, the district where their son teaches which is smaller and more rural, or the local district where they would be living, increasing the possibility of nearby friends and activities.  The choice soon became crystal clear.

While meeting with the guidance counselor at the local district, a small miracle occurred.  Many tears were shed that day when they met a student currently attending the school who had been with Jethro and Dorothy at the very same orphanage in Manila.  Later Dorothy shared her journal with Julia, showing her photos from the orphanage of Jethro, Dorothy and the student.  The serendipity of this still makes me misty eyed.

Happily, the children’s adoption was finalized on March 21, 2019.

Jethro, Tracy, Judge Kramer, Julia and Dorothy

Julia is the first to admit there have been challenges.

 “It is hard and I think it should be hard. Nothing this big should be easy.”

They have spent the past two years learning each other and building trust, as well as adjusting to cultural differences. Through the bumps and hiccups along the way, Tracy and Julia have marveled at the resiliency of these two children who have endured so much disappointment over the years. Dorothy and Jethro are very close, but very different, each having their own particular needs.  Jethro will graduate from high school this year.  He goes to school half days and is employed through the Interdisciplinary Cooperative Education Program the other half.  He opened his first bank account and is learning to handle money.  He plays guitar and is happy to entertain, singing and dancing. At age 20, Jethro is looking forward to graduation and hoping to get his own apartment and try life on his own.

Currently 16, Dorothy is more reserved than her brother, but has found a niche in soccer and tennis.  She’s never experienced the support of close friendships with other girls her age, and Tracy and Julia are thrilled to watch her grow more independent and form relationships.  Having grown up in a family of all girls, Julia has often said her sisters are her rocks and she hopes Dorothy will develop a similar support system of her own.

 In addition to bringing her and Tracy even closer, this experience has made abundantly clear something they knew all along.  Humans have the innate ability to grow to love, nurture and protect another human being, whether you gave birth to that person or not.  Yet after speaking with Julia about their experience, I was still left wondering exactly what made them say yes.  What was the deciding factor?  I believe the seed was always there in Tracy.  His nature is such that he feels most content with kids in the house and people to care for.  And as for my beautiful friend Julia, much like young Owen in John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany, I believe all her life experiences were preparing her for this moment.    

The every growing Tipton family!

In flipping through Julia’s Facebook feed looking for information to help me tell her story, I came across something she posted as encouragement to others. “You are capable of amazing things.”  Julia and Tracy were 57 when they stepped out of their comfort zone to save two children and nearly 60 when the adoption was finalized.  At an age when many people are regularly checking their retirement clocks, they are attending high school sporting events, making sure homework is done and providing a safe environment for two young people to heal.  At any age, that’s a pretty amazing thing.

C’est la vie.