I'm very happy to say that I was privileged to spend an afternoon with Ron and Shalisa not long ago, and that she is indeed much the same person she was-- and quite adorable I might add which is one reason I am so grateful Ron keeps her close. He's a great dad. She has "space" but never isolation. That is a really hard balance to keep!!!

She played a bit of music for us, on one of her wooden flutes. The last time I had seen her, years ago, she was in the bloom of health, and unselfconsciously sporting a wonderful bag of flutes that she played gorgeously. A hippie style not put on in imitation of a style, just... Shalisa.

The spark in her flashing eyes is still there. The graceful gentleness displayed on a strong, whippy frame is there. The gorgeousness of the playing is still there. I wished I had brought my own MP3 recorder to capture it (for myself as well as for her use). I won't make THAT mistake again. I'll take my own camera, too, so I can email her and include a picture of our visit to help her re-connect with "Who is writing to me now?"

Spending time with her is very much like the time I was so lucky to spend with Father John in his last year.... just a time to BE with a fabulous person, and enjoy them while also enjoying the COST of being with them-- being on top of one's own game in order to give them your best.

How do I know she is intact in there. Well, she apologized profusely for not knowing my name. Several times. She knew it was "polite" to know a name, she knew she had probably just been told what it was, and she knew it was "supposed" to stick. She was not frustrated (externally at least) that it didn't stick, but so apologetic. I said, "No! I should have brought NAME tag so you wouldn't have to keep asking! It's not just your job to make this work!" I asked for tape so I could make a tag. She grabbed a post-it and wrote my name as I spelled it-- the hostess, writing it FOR me. I stuck it on my forehead. Laff, laff, laffing..... every time she saw that on my head, she remembered why it was there. And here is the twofold kicker-- this is about how she retains stuff, not about what I did. (1) she stopped apologizing because she had retained the idea she did not need to; (2) when we left, my tag was gone, because she had asked me to put it on my pocket and the fabric had worn off the stickiness and she no longer cared if she new my name. We were having a hug goodbye in the driveway (she intuits safety), and she mourned, "I lost your name!" I said, "What do you think it might be?" Flashing eyes on a good joke: "Tell me what letter it starts with?" "S" "SUSAN!" She was hopping-proud. What a great goodbye.

She had made at least that much connection. I don't care (for myself) if she remembers a thing about all that next time I see her-- probably spring. But I know now how to connect, and that she does connect, and that she takes charge for her end of connecting.

WHAT MORE CAN ANYONE ASK?!?!?!?

~Susan