Hilda’s Gift

Hilda left this earth on my first birthday. Hilda was my grandmother. Instead of celebrating his first born daughter, my father had to bury his mother. The irony of the circle of life. According to the stories I have heard she loved to write, did not tolerate fools lightly and fiercely defended what she believed in. Much of her spirit lives on in me. If she were alive in the computer driven world of today, she would be blogging about life’s ups and downs and finding grace in the small mercies of every day.

So here goes – to honor her memory and to finally give a voice to the musings that swirl around in my head. The journey of a Yorkshire girl who crossed the ocean in search of adventure, met her soulmate and finally put down roots. A Yorkshire girl who yearns for the wind over the open moors of her homeland but has fallen in love with the quiet ebb and flow of the marshes in the Low country. An “A” type personality driven to succeed and yet longing to just “be”. A woman, like all women,  who asks: “Have I lived deeply and fully? Have I loved well? Have I left a legacy of kindness? Has my life in some way brought benefit to others?” – Wayne Muller –  A Life of Being, Having and Doing Enough”