People Who Need People

Anyone who knows me will tell you I’m just not a people person. Oh, I like to say that when applying for a job, or in attempting to explain why I love facilitating writing workshops, but the truth is I really don’t like people very much. That is easily recognizable, I think, by my demeanor when I’m in a crowd of folks, which is usually silence. I despise small talk. I’m not very good at it and I don’t even try. This probably accounts for why I have a very tiny circle of friends, all of whom know this about me and accept it, whether they like it or not. I just don’t have much of a personality. Oh, when I was young, I tried by outside help to acquire a personality, and if I have a few drinks even now, I can be downright amenable. But, straight, singular me is not the one people generally think is going to be the life of the party. I’d much rather spend hours of my life in the pages of a book, toiling in a garden, creating things with my hands, or watching classic black and white movies with a plate of brownies for company. It’s the god’s honest truth.

I’ve been back to the Chicagoland area from Georgia over a month now. I’ve gone to one social event, - Neighborhood Writing Alliances's "Open Gate" Release Reading to see those people who know who I am. I meant to get to another - "Photo Requests from Solitary" - and I really tried, but when the time came around, the thought of mingling, networking, and schmoozing just made me ill. So, I didn’t go. Instead, I helped my 7-year-old grandson with his homework and cooked dinner. Here’s the thing though, I could’ve went and I would’ve been known and welcomed. This is just one of the things I’ve learned about myself in the last year: I need people when I need people.

I miss my chickens and Foghorn crowing at dawn. I miss the mountain mist hanging low in the trees reminding me so of an English moor out of a Bronte novel. I miss the rushing, white water Toccoa River. I miss towering mountains, lush woods, and the “silence” of nature surrounding me. Although there is beauty in Kenosha, primarily the eyes, the arms, and the boundless energy of my grandsons, as well as the exasperating lifestyles of my adult children, I dream of a way to have it all. 











Because I need them, and I need those few folks on earth who truly know Donna. I need to be able to say, “Come look at what I built, baked, cooked, come look I what I did,” and to have them share my joy, my hard work, my frustrations, my dreams. And, I need to celebrate or suffer theirs - on my terms, with those who accept and cherish my terms, knowing that I accept and cherish theirs when I’m able, and we’re all perfectly fine with that.

So, yeah, I’m not a people person but I am a person who needs people, and so, I am one of the luckiest people in the world. 

A New Adventure

A New Adventure – Not Failure

Turning the page and riding off to regroup for the next great Kiser adventure.

Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.
Theodore Roosevelt

And I did win some glorious personal triumphs in the last year as well as learning new things about myself. I traversed unknown highways alone, stayed with strangers, and met wonderful people. I relocated my entire life’s belongings across mountainous roads in the dead of night. I built a chicken coop and raised baby chicks to lay delicious eggs. Tilled and toiled and became physically strong again. And, I found that this particular mountain is not for me. I learned that I can accept that and move on without distress.

I realized that my grandchildren are an immense part of my life and without them there is a large hole in my heart. It may have been different if I’d lived a distance away all along, but having been involved in their lives from the beginning, I sorely miss the football games and the school programs and exposing them to cultural activities. I still want to show them a simpler, more sustainable way of living, and I will somewhere in the future. I’ve a lot of years left.

I’ve learned to research better a living location, that the age of an area population matters, that a high dropout and pregnancy rate happens for a reason, and that reason cannot necessarily be excised by one person. That is probably my biggest lesson, that while one person can make a difference, that one person cannot change the world alone. It’s a long battle and one must choose their battles wisely.

So, time to regroup. Headed back to Kenosha, WI but not backward. Regain some finances and rethink the next move. Thankfully, I have that capability. Possibly, substitute teach in Kenosha or drive a school bus, possibly obtain a CDL and travel the country, returning to see the grandkids every few weeks. Save those finances to settle closer because I need them, and needing people is not necessarily a bad thing. While I love solitary living, I’ve learned it doesn’t require ripping out my heart.

Mistakes are lessons if we learn from them, and I’ve learned a lot. I will miss the beauty of Appalachia but not near as much as I miss the beauty of my grandsons. Choose those battles and relish in both victory and defeat, for then we are never truly defeated.