At every Open  House, I try to think of one person who personified the weekend for me. There were many, but tonight, I am thinking of Susan Popper, a friend and member of the Creative Group at Bedlam. I have known Susan for four or five years, she has been at the farm once or twice before.

She is a good friend, loving and supportive and very much in touch. We stay in touch with one another.

Earlier this year, she slipped off the radar a bit and fell into the darkest and most difficult time of her life. I am not at liberty to discuss the details of her trouble, other than to say it was very painful, very difficult, and nearly cost her her life.

I knew some of the details, but it was not until she came to the farm on Friday that I was able to  learn of and comprehend the full scope of what she had been through and what she had endured mostly by herself. She chose to endure it by herself. I was shocked and upset for her, and also relieved. She is doing well.

Susan is a gifted writer and photographer, she is old-fashioned in some ways, she wants to sort out her troubles herself, not on Facebook or Twitter.

That is increasingly rare in contemporary America. At one point, as we sat out in the chairs on the lawn by the pasture gate, she was holding tightly to her new Canon lens, plucked off of e-bay for $200, and she cried a bit and told me one of the things that kept her alive was the thought of coming to the farm this Spring, to see Maria and I and  the dogs and donkeys. To sit and talk, just as we were doing.

I could not have imagined that, it touched me quite deeply. Susan is taking care of things, she is putting her life together and moving forward with humor, honesty and courage. I have rarely been so happy to see anyone, or so grateful for anyone’s presence at the farm.

She looks great, I am glad to be able to see her while learning of this unforgettable journey. What doesn’t kill us does, in fact, make us stronger. She has been on the hero journey, fallen into the darkest places, come back to share what she has learned.

If the farm meant so much to her, I must be getting somewhere as a human being, for all of the work I have to do. Susan left this morning, she came by early to say goodbye, she has a long drive and has to work today. I hope she comes back soon. Godspeed and safe journey, Susan, come back and take care of yourself.