I admit to being surprised by the depth and honesty and poignancy of the Mansion stories, many came from people with severe health problems and some had memory issues to fight through. They were determined to tell their stories, I told them they were their stories.

I see that is true.

Joan’s story was short. I didn’t need to touch a word of it.

She wrote about her life in the Adirondacks, she was married and had a daughter. When her daughter was 18 years old she had a boyfriend who was “not very nice.”

“I told her I didn’t like him but as kids will be kids she did not listen.

We had our truck with the wooden racks on the hill behind the house where my husband and I were picking berries. I was heading back to the house when I heard a sharp noise. Her boyfriend had killed her on the steps to the house. He had wanted her to run away with him and when she refused he had shot her.

My husband died from the grief about a year later. I said to myself I would never let that happen to me. You have to focus on the good stuff like the people who come to visit and help. I wouldn’t let it kill me too.”

The people in the room, busy celebrating the Fourth of July with your wonderful gifts, were quiet, but they all recovered and applauded Joan.

I know Joan well. Sometimes when I come to the Mansion in the morning, she is waiting at the door with her bags backed. “I’m going home” she will say. “Someone is coming to pick me up.”

Me or the staff or a friend will suggest a cup of tea or walk down the hall, and she comes along and a few minutes later has happily returned to the life of the Mansion, back in her room or talking walks on the grounds. Her bags go back into her room – the bags are always packed there.

Then she is content in her life and routines, she is much loved there, she speaks gently and softly, but if you look in her eyes, you see there is so much going on. She won third prize in the Mansion Story Reading Friday.

I especially loved her determination to live past her  grief and loss.