Today I went to Karyn’s house (aka Inna’Goddess Da-vida) to photograph her and her lovely family (and their awesome home!) for my project. I fear I didn’t do them justice.

(She plays the piano for her church. She was actually playing when I shot this, a beautiful piece that made me wish I’d brought my audio recorder.)

Earlier, she sent me something she wrote about herself, and especially about the last five years for her. I love what she wrote about, so I’m sharing it here with her blessing:

I think I’m must be on some kind of metamorphosis kick; speeding-towards-menopause with some life-infusing reckless stops along the way…

“I turned 45 this month. I’ve been married nearly 25 years to a supportive, laid-back guy who sells books and makes me laugh and loves me like crazy, even when I go crazy. Birthed and raised two pretty fantastic, independent, creative, fun loving intelligent man-children ages 22 and almost 20. I like to think I was a pretty good self-sacrificing; attachment-parenting, kids-got-the-lime-light kind of mom…put some dreams on hold while the man went to grad school, blah blah blah…All in all, it’s been pretty good.   Oh, I’m a Mennonite church lady…I play piano, sing,  and do leadership stuff at church when asked and I get something out of it, too, most of the time. I do it because I can, and it’s not too stressful. For money, I am a 10 yr veteran child protection worker.  Stressful, but sometimes I make a difference. I do like people most of the time and usually can see the good.

At 38 I decided never, ever to dye my hair. [My family] greys early.
At 40 I lost 50 pounds. At 41 I had a breast reduction…I started to RUN – 5k, 8k…10k!
At 42 my best friend tried to end her life but accidentally pressed “send” in a goodbye email to me, and then we found her.  Alive. At 42 I started therapy.  Big time.  And I got a personal trainer.
At 42 I bought some roller skates and joined a roller derby team – talk about physical empowerment, and – holy shit, can we drink!! Sweat, bruises, and no more free time, but another awesome reason to exist. Beautiful, real, new friends and a demanding, punishing, unique sport requiring everything I could give.
At 43 got dreadlocks and smoked pot for the very first time in my life (don’t tell my mom).
At 44 I took a three month stress leave from the heaviness of child protection and after a few weeks of hiding under the covers, began to further evaluate life, self acceptance, the meaning of empty-nested motherhood. I started checking in with some feelings that I’ve been ignoring for a long time, and went about the business of deciding what to do with a sometimes soul-sucking job and with the rest of my life….
At 44 I decided I was going to pursue the career that has been beckoning me from the other side of the risk-river: Midwifery – and made a plan to get that started during my 45th or -6th year.
At 44 I ran a half marathon and even beat some of the speed walkers.
And, at 44 I finally got my vintage-y colourful bird/mixed flower tattoo that symbolizes both nothing and everything…it’s just a part of me.  The bird on my front perches over my heart…it’s a sparrow – a bird known for being common, flitting-ly gregarious and it mates for life – it is singing it’s little heart out, just givin’ er.  The second sparrow on my back is literally taking off into flight (or maybe landing?)…no regrets, bravely, not looking back.  All drawn together by a collage of flowers -experiences/beauty/people in my life.  My tattoo artist is a woman, and the process of getting this extensive tattoo was a really wonderful experience.

So, what’s the sum of it all? To be mother of men, roller derbying, grey dread headed, churchy, tattooed, more honest-than-I’ve-ever-been-before midwife wannabe… ?
I am loving becoming more defined yet less definable.  Less invisible, yet needing the lime-light less.  Less serious yet more determined. Responsible, yet hopefully spontaneously responsive to the world around me. Faith-ful yet Open.  Working on it, anyway.”

While I was there, I think I may have discovered the title for this series:

Yes, these bones shall live.

It’s from a passage of the book of Ezekiel, and somehow it’s gotten embedded into Karyn’s word template or settings or something. So it popped up, and it called to me as soon as I saw it. I guess I’ll live with it for a bit as a working title, and see if it sticks.