No Regrets: A Life of Passion and Poetry

It was all Seamus Heaney’s fault. I met the poet at a private lunch in Cambridge, MA, in the mid-eighties, became a groupie, and attended all his readings. One night when I gave him a lift home from the theatre, he quizzed me about my desire to know more about my Irish heritage, its literature, and history. He told me that I had an extraordinary background and that I should go out and make this heritage my own. This opened the door for my still-blooming love affair with Irish literature and poetry.

I took courses, studied, and built a library for myself. For several summers I went to Ireland and studied with Harvard’s Helen Vendler in Sligo, where outstanding Yeats scholars from all over the world meet and study. She’s been very good to me considering I’m not the usual scholar.

I try to attend most of the poetry readings sponsored by Harvard’s Department of English and American Literature, and the events by the Department of Celtic Languages and Literatures. I’m a member of the Friends of Harvard Celtic Studies, where the faculty, students, and friends mix socially and support the work of that department. My passion is feeling the rhythm of the words as I feel music. Rather than study the craft of poetry, I spend my time studying great poets.

I came to HILR in 2000 with no clue about the place, the resources, culture, well … anything. I signed up for Fran Vaughan’s study group in poetry and was petrified. When I learned I had to write a poem each week, I couldn’t do it. At the end of the term, Fran instructed me that for the last class I had to write something, even if it was only a limerick. I did write a poem for that session. Two years later I repeated Fran’s poetry study group, dutifully writing poems each week.

The first study group I offered on the poetry of Seamus Heaney and five other Irish poets did not attract enough participants to fly. I was disappointed, of course. A successful study group leader whose first offering also didn’t fill encouraged me to begin again with a three-week January program to become better known. I selected Heaney, Yeats, and Eavan Boland, a feminist Irish poet living in Dublin and teaching at Stanford University. One week for each poet. Yeats really attracted members, and I was on my way as a study group leader! Since then I have led study groups on many other poets.

I did not realize I had done enough leading and facilitating of groups through the years to be able to be a study group leader. Before HILR I never knew that I could tap into the abilities developed in my work life and in other activities. I had an unrecognized awareness of other people’s reactions.

Leading a study group is not difficult. One reason is that it is not about lecturing or knowing it all. What a relief! On that rare occasion when neither members nor I can answer an important question, the answer will be there soon after checking other resources. I loved that first short study group! Fran Vaughan was in it for me to call upon when I needed help.

My Background

My love of literature, poetry, and music did not often surface in my work life, and some people might say they are as far away from each other as two bodies of knowledge can be. I majored in accounting and economics, but could not find a job—CPA firms did not hire women back then. Finally, I landed a job as an editor, applying accounting principles and standards to audit reports.

A few years later, I spent the summer in Nigeria on a program for the Experiment in International Living (EIL). My life changed when I awoke to the possibilities of a life beyond Boston. I left the corporate sector and worked for EIL in Vermont, managing study-abroad programs in cooperation with US colleges. When I hit that glass ceiling, I returned to Boston to specialize in educational administration and financial aid. I became an authority on resources and planning for financial aid funding and was appointed to various state and national committees of the government and private college consortiums. I very much liked the academic atmosphere.

After a dozen years, I obtained an MBA to use as a ticket to re-enter the corporate sector. There I worked in high-pressure corporate jobs, marketing online access to critical software applications and to economic forecasting for strategic planning. This work was intellectually stimulating, challenging, and fun.

Illness

In 1986, at 48, I was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia, that “disease of the elderly,” with an expected life span of six years. But I was young. There was no research on longevity for younger people. I felt totally defeated and depressed, but the illness itself didn’t bother me a lot. Physically I felt good and was still swimming, hiking, dancing, and biking as well as studying, reading, and working.

I left the corporate sector in order not to travel all the time. I wanted less competitive, more meaningful work in a hospitable environment. I started a small business focusing on medical insurance for senior citizens and others. My company managed the complex interactions among the patient, care givers, and insurance companies. At that time, there were many abuses in the medical insurance reimbursement systems. When I collected clients’ reimbursements from the insurance companies, they were very happy, and the word spread.

I did research on my illness. I found a wonderful doctor who, when the leukemia kicked up in 1992, sent me to Scripps Clinic in California for an experimental drug trial. With a good remission for years afterwards, I needed little chemotherapies. In the long run, this early therapy did do its damage, as poison does. For whatever reason, I seem to have a very strong constitution—probably those Celtic genes—and I have lasted well.

My new cancer, discovered in April 2008, was caught early, and I believe they will take care of it. The leukemia has broken down my system tremendously. I just have to get through these next weeks. I am going to make it. Being prone to new cancers and infections, I don’t know when something is going to strike. I fight. I had serious pneumonia in 2003, yet knew I was strong and would survive. Now I have this new difficult cancer, but I will continue to survive.

I love my life now because all my energy goes into HILR. I want to participate to the fullest. I am so mad at the cancer. I just finished leading a fabulous course on Yeats but I could not lead the last few sessions. And I have so many things I want to do. I have a trunk of journals I have written over the years that I want to do something with.

Mortality

I have a strong spiritual life and am a practicing member of the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers). I have great faith that I am being taken care of, and in the surety that God works through people. I am never truly lonely. When I feel down, I realize I am not alone and am comforted. I am not afraid of dying. However there are many plans I’ve made that are waiting for me to be active again. If something happens to me in a couple of weeks and I die, I won’t mind. I have been working on this attitude to live in the present for so long. For instance, after the treatment in 1992, I worked for a couple of years with a counselor who helped cancer patients to live in the “now,” and I learned to figure out what I want to do with my life then to do it.

Deep down I am content, happy, and accepting of what I cannot control like those cancer cells. I pray. I deeply believe I will be taken care of by the Spirit I call God. As Dr. Lidia Schapira suggested to me years ago, I strive to remain physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually strong.

Live now! Not projecting, fantasizing, or dwelling on the past. While involved with being alive, whether quietly sitting focusing on music, watching a squirrel hide acorns for the winter, conversing with friends, walking, biking, or studying, I become totally absorbed. All attention is in the here and now. I become engaged, interested, enthusiastic and, poof!—away go the cares and woes of cancer. I forget all about the health issues, really.

I have grievances, believe me. I loved hiking, dancing, masters swimming—all of which I can’t do anymore. After this new illness I know I will be diminished from what I had before. However I can still bicycle!

Conclusion

The organization of HILR is not perfect, but it is perfect for my needs. I always wind up in a group that makes it go, regardless of the study group leader. To be able to find new and different avenues for embracing my passion for poetry is awesome. In addition to having been on the Membership and Teaching and Learning committees, I worked in the HILR Dunlop Library. I have connections with people and have made good friends. A lot of people offer their help now that I am in the midst of recovering.

I love this stage of life—I love it. Everything comes together, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I came into retirement with little difficulty because I had geared down long ago. HILR becomes the shining star in my whole life. It is very bright and intense.

I wouldn’t say I am wise, but I’ve gained a lot of wisdom in my life. I focus more on what is important and let other matters slide. This spring, gazing out the Lamont Library window onto Harvard Yard at twilight, reading the poems of a well-known living poet, I wondered: How did it happen that I am here? In a place I love, drinking tea, doing what I long to do with the people, living or dead, whom I love?

No regrets: I wouldn’t be who I am if I didn’t do what I did. Never could I have realized while in my twenties what my life would be. It is unbelievable to have my life at this stage as it is and to know who I am right now. That I didn’t know earlier in life.

June 2008

Postscript

The very aggressive radiation and chemotherapy did work on that new cancer. It is gone. Long-term side effects of the treatments and the incurable chronic leukemia make me feel I have a malaise. This I can live with! Each episode of serious sickness, like that new cancer, strengthens my psyche for the next one. I do not fear for I know not when it comes. And this spring I will be leading a study group on the poet who started it all: Seamus Heaney.

October 2008

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