where the writers are
What is mine to do?


            October 28th  ’37 –  March 25th  ’07


Nancy Varney Adamson and I
            shared a serendipitous connection—
            the same birth day, October 28th,
            but our connection went well beyond
            the serendipitous,
            to the very edge
            of what it means            
            to be a human being—
            at least for me.

I knew not her shadow.
            She knew her own
            and held that close to herself,
            more than most of us
            are able to do—I think.
            I knew her by her light
            and in my particular case
            that light, her light,
            in all it’s mystery
            helped illuminate
            a terrible darkness
            in my own life,
            let me see, so to speak,
            where it was my feet
            needed to take me—
            amazing grace
            to be so
            by another.

God speed, dear, dear Nancy.

                                                            BD 3/26/07


During that time when Nancy would listen to my struggles, often she would say to me, "Bill, what is your to do?" That question has been a guiding light ever since and is always in my consciousness somewhere whether I know it or not.

As I prepare now to bring my Indiegogo fund raising portion of my Looking for Matthew project to a close--less than 40 hours to go, I wanted to pay tribute to Nancy. For her question was in my mind after Matthew's murder. The poems that came through me as I processed my struggles and my grief were not so much an answer to her question as an unavoidable expression of my experiences. Her question was in my mind as I looked at the world around me and wondered what I could do to help change the brokenness.

Bringing my Matthew poems into the world, is one answer to Nancy's question. And that process has already begun with the funding campaign and now moves into the pracital realization of printing and recording.