Musings

Playing in the backyard.

Playing in the backyard.

Tonight on this gorgeous spring evening, I’m going to take a break from our promised agenda of telling how we met and write about how thankful I am. Today has been magnificent in every way. Relaxing on the back porch writing, reading, meditating, playing with the dogs and spending time with my love. I am purely grateful for this time when so many are frantic and unsure. Moments of peace become even more precious, as is the ability to recognize these moments.

For the past week, I have been making time to stand again. Both my body and spirit have embraced this eagerly. I feel stronger and more enlivened from the exercise, and today, I took a few steps again. Megan said they were among the best steps she has ever seen me take. I’m not sure why, maybe it was just the right time for me to work on it again. Perhaps it was the beauty of the day. Either way, it felt wonderful.

The graying sky, cloudless at dust, is another gift for which I am grateful, sitting here beneath it writing face to face with Megan. This is a wonderful life, and I am grateful for every moment.


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Weekend Musings

To be honest, this week has kicked my butt, staying up late to finish projects, days full of meetings and not wanting to get out of bed to get Barton up in the morning (at the moment we don’t have morning help).

Last night, we had a wonderful time in downtown Raleigh, appetizers from a gift certificate we received, wine and chocolate tasting and stopping by our friend’s art gallery opening (Elise Okrend). We haven’t had a “date night” in a while, and it was wonderful to leave the work behind and just be with each other.

Today, we played on the back porch all day. Amazingly, I did not crack my computer open until tonight, and made only one phone call. I walked the dogs as the sun rose, wrote in my journal, drew with pastels in my sketchbook and listened while Barton read his newly finished poem aloud.

Days like today bring me back to center, a place of gratitude for where I am, who I am with and the work we are accomplishing together. After such a difficult week, this day of relaxation couldn’t have come at a better time.


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In the Firelight

That May, I headed back to Tucson for a longer, weeklong seminar. When I arrived, I walked into the kitchen to help wash dishes for dinner. Barton was drying dishes, and I was talking to him, in my slow southern accent, taking the plates he had dried and dried them with my own towel.

Finally one of my friends stepped outside and asked, “Do you have a problem with Barton? He’s trained much as much as any other man, so don’t patronize him.” It didn’t take long for me to shift out of that patronizing perspective nor to see how independent Barton is.

Early one morning, we were sweeping off the walkways. Barton banged the broom around as we struck up a conversation. That was where I learned Barton wrote poetry and we both had similar family experiences. “I would love to read some of your poetry, “ I remember saying. That night, I walked down to the fire and saw Barton on the other side of the firelight, his bright eyes beaming. In the quiet moment of the firelight, I was reflective and though we spoke briefly before being joined by others, it was if we had been talking for ages.

When everyone was packing to go home the next day, one of my friends ran up to me, “Barton’s leaving! He wants to say good-bye.” By the time I got to the car, Barton was already in the backseat. I wrote my contact info on a piece of paper and jumped into the backseat onto his lap sticking it in his pocket with a kiss on the cheek. I still wasn’t fully aware that I was in love, but my heart sure was. I never expected to receive an email when I turned my computer on as soon as I returned home.

Now we’re getting somewhere…


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And She Thought We Were Just Friends

To be honest, there was part of me that never expected to see her again, and yet somehow it was only natural that we did. When we met again, it was at a longer seminar, and somehow I got lucky enough to spend the better part of an entire week with her. Honestly I don’t remember the exact point I fell in love. All I remember is the more time we spent together, the more I knew she was the one. By this point, however, I was definitely noticing how incredibly gorgeous she was, and everything about her absolutely floored me.

There was one morning, she ended up helping me eat breakfast and about five minutes into the meal, I noticed she had not taken one bite of her own food. As she was about to give me the next bite of granola and yogurt, I looked at her quizzically and said, “You know you need to eat, too.” She promised she would, but that wasn’t good enough for me, so I gave her a look. And she sighed somewhat resigned as finally began to eat also. As we ate together, I found myself remembering what astonished me so much about her eyes several months prior. She was so warm despite her apparent shyness.

The more we talked, the more it felt like we were to halves of the same whole. When I learned she was a writer, I knew there was no possible way I was going to let her get away without doing everything I could to be with her. That day when we were sweeping the sidewalk, I remember thinking, I had spent my entire life waiting to meet someone who just might fall in love with my poetry, and I was hopeful that she was the one.

After that conversation, there was no hope for me. I was head over heels, and I’m pretty sure she had no clue. On the second to last day, we both became really busy, and didn’t have an opportunity to spend much time together during the remainder of that seminar.
I remember getting ready to leave and about two hours before getting in the car, I had started to look for her as I was determined not to leave without her phone number or email. I had my other friends looking all over for her, but none of them could track her down. I finally got in the car to go, and I gave my friends one last plea to go and try to find her. Fortunately, they did and when Megan got to the car, she climbed in he backseat and sat on my lap. She tucked her information into my front pocket along with a small piece of turquoise, gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked back inside. I was absolutely going out of my mind. I don’t know if she knew what she had done to me, but I was about to have a heart attack. I could not wait to talk to her again.


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First Sight

Barton and Megan in Arizona.

Barton and Megan in Arizona.

We’ve gotten a few questions about how Barton and I met & the beginning of our relationship. Indeed, for many people it seemed like overnight when I said- I’m getting married! Barton and I have different perspectives, so we’ll go back and forth to fill you in.

First off, you must know that I wasn’t looking for love, not even on my radar at that point. In 2001, I had been with a guy who ended up breaking off an engagement- there was already a date, a dress etc. After some time to trying to work things out, I had had enough. Sadly, my mother died unexpectedly a month later from a reaction to medication for Multiple Sclerosis. I spent a long time working through those two devastating losses. Mind you, I had packed up the wedding dress and tucked it away in the garage thinking I would never get married, and slowly I was learning to come back out of my shell, training in martial arts, writing again, figuring out what the next steps in my life should be.

When I traveled to Tucson on February 13, 2003 for an informal martial arts seminar, I wasn’t expecting to find love. Barton came to our friend’s house for a visit, staying only for a short time. I remember being introduced to him and thinking, how does he train in a wheelchair (anyone who has trained with Barton will tell you not to be so fooled); look at those bright blue eyes. And I just couldn’t stop looking at those blue eyes.

As quickly as we were introduced, he left. I flew back to my life in Alabama, with plans to come back to Tucson for another seminar in May.

Oh, don’t worry, there’s much more to this love story…


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