“What a Wonderful Life,” 14″x14,” Watercolor by Donna Lyons © 2025

“Who will tell?”

By Marty Coffin Evans © 2018

Several years ago, we attended the hit musical “Hamilton” at the Buell Theater in Denver. Loaded with history lessons involving many famous persons from our country’s founding days, a concluding comment caught my interest.

As the musical concludes, Hamilton’s wife sings a number which asks, “Who will tell our story?” Indeed, what legacy do we leave? Who will remember what we did in our lives, let alone write about us?

Memoir writing has become an encouraged exercise for many. Who better to tell our story than ourselves? Then again, who might be interested in what we did, accomplished, or not in our lives.

In one of my writing groups, the Low Writers, our most senior member periodically pulls out old notebooks and shares her writings. “How old were you when you wrote that?” we typically ask.

Sometimes the answer is in her early teen years. Other times, it might be writings from her collegiate times in Colorado as she wrote weekly to her parents in Indiana. What a treasure of stories from that young coed.

“Have you shared those with your family?” we also ask. Even with an affirmative answer she sadly reflects they don’t seem very interested in what she wrote about during her early years. We choose to believe her family members will greatly appreciate having these writings at some point in their own lives.

This “who will tell” question does become thought provoking. Family members often share their history as they tell stories of times past. On occasion, these are written down for others to remember. Capturing personal stories while that family member still lives is important.

We’ve heard the expression that we all have a story. We’ve heard too about someone passing away with their story still with them or untold. Both are true.

Have you told or written your story yet? I guess I better get busy on writing mine!

January 2025

“South End Sunset,” Gouche on Panel © 2021 Donna Lyons

By Marty Coffin Evans © 2023

As I look at the beauty of the November sunsets, I’m reminded of a quote I heard years ago: “November sunsets are the dividends paid by the year before closing its books.” How true that seems to me.

These sunsets along with the beautiful colors found in the sunrises, should we be awake to see them, are reminiscent of stained glass. When I created several stained glass pieces years ago, their amazing colors provided much to be admired. Whether pastels or brilliant oranges, rusts, red, complemented with blues, their patterns appeared endless and unique. So too do hues of green which appear in these morning and evening spectacular shows.

Beyond the beauty found in stained glass, nature gives us other colorful displays in the patterns found in granite. We learned this in visiting two showrooms as we looked for something new for our kitchen countertop and bathroom floors and shower. Here again, like stained glass, the immense array of pinks, blues, greens, brown tones and more became mind boggling. Who knew about these incredible color schemes let alone the wave, swirl or other patterns unless on the quest for a home remodel.

While I don’t understand the science behind the colorful skies or what makes granite so varied and impressive, I can appreciate them both. Most likely, sky gazing is the least expense of these options for admiring nature at work.

Why not take a stained glass class and enjoy the challenge of cutting, shaping and soldering your piece which you’ll have for years of enjoyment. Or, if you’re looking to remodel, treat yourself to a showroom visit to find just the granite. Although it might cost a tad more than the other works of nature, it will be enjoyed daily for years to come as well.

What is your favorite display of nature’s colors at work? Regardless their location, all are priceless in their own unique way.

November 2024

“Abundance and Scarcity,”  “9” x “6” Watercolor and Gouache, Copyright © 2019 By Donna Lyons

“Morning Reads”

By Marty Coffin Evans

Each morning, unless I’m heading out for a breakfast meeting, I pour a cup of coffee, settle into my blue chair and reach for the books/booklets which help ground me for the day. Before opening the first one, little white poodle-mix Simon assumes his position on my lap for a post-night nap.

During our pandemic months, several friends emailed requests for quotes, recipes, along with suggestions for meditations or books, all in a chain-letter type format. I respectfully declined, believing my stash of six meditation books/booklets adequately helped me begin the morning.

The first book I reach for, Today is Mine, remains the oldest, having been given by a friend April 2007. When I opened the book, its April 25 meditation and title, “Just Enough Obstacles,” totally fit my circumstances. Mine included the months-earlier passing of my husband, mother’s death and my own cancer surgery, coming within nine days. Regardless the intervening years, Today is Mine still provides timeless, thought-inspiring meditations.

Next, I move on to three faith-based booklets with messages for each day. On occasion, I’ve copied or removed pages to pass along to others.

My two remaining books, both volumes of Cherokee Feast of Trails, complete my morning reading before I move onto the daily newspaper. I don’t remember how or where I found the first volume of this small daily meditation book.  Even after acquiring volume two this year, I’ve kept reading the first one. Both focus on family, seasons, friendships, life’s challenges and more.

All of these books have provided inspiration for my own writing, often after reading their different meditations. Selections about the seasons of the tree or reaching back to take another’s hand in support have been shared with different groups.

Might you have a morning stack of books to begin your day? Or, do yours end the day?

Copyright © 2023 By Marty Coffin Evans

October 2024

“Sojourn’s End,” 5″ x 8″ watercolor By Donna Lyons © 2015

By Marty Coffin Evans © 2016

They’d been separated for years. Now an arranged phone call connected them to loved ones many miles and a continent or two away.

Perhaps one was in refugee camp while the other, safe in another country. Perhaps one was exiled waiting for release and freedom. Whatever the circumstance, a long- awaited call would soon arrive.

The phone connection’s length – three minutes. “Hello. I am fine. How are you?”

Two minutes fifty nine seconds remain to tell, ask about and capture life since they last saw each other. What did they talk about – family members, health, livelihood, the political situation or…?

Thinking about having only three minutes to talk with a loved one, knowing the call would disconnect soon, raises questions for us. Would we talk about the trivial or mundane such as weather?  If it were a major factor in our dislocation from each other, we just might.

I remember making a phone call to my mother when she was living in California. Given the long lines at the terminal phone booths that September 11, 2001, I made a ship to shore call to her.  It’s cost – $48; its value – priceless.

We had sailed out of New York City, by the World Trade Center, on September 7, headed up the East Coast on a Fall Foliage cruise. We’d passed Boston and were in Peggy’s Cove, Nova Scotia when vacationers nearby asked if we were from America. “Have you heard the news?” Finding a gift shop, with its radio playing, we soon learned “the news.”

No doubt connecting with family members during a time of tragedy can be major. We know that to be true given the stories of those on the doomed flights, in the Trade Center or Pentagon, who called home one last time.

Did they have three minutes to make those calls? While the length may be unknown, the impact of the connections remains timeless and invaluable. Who would you call? What would you say?

September 2024