Being filmed for a documentary is a peculiar exercise. I say this because, for the last six months, I’ve been working with filmmaker Edwin Mah on a documentary about finding meaning in your most challenging relationships, simple living, and loving someone with special needs. It’s wild to think that an actual filmmaker is making an actual film about the things I love and strive for, but so it is.

As such, Edwin has filmed several interviews with me, my yoga practice, my tiny studio apartment … and last week, he filmed me and my friend Leo* at McDonald’s, Leo’s favorite neighborhood haunt.

Outside the Lincoln Library, 2008

On this balmy afternoon, sunlight filters through the windows. The intensity of the light makes filming somewhat difficult for Edwin, but I love it even so.

Leo and I stand together as he orders his coffee, then walk slowly up the winding stairs to the table where Edwin’s setting up his camera. As we start to talk, I feel self-conscious, but within five minutes we’ve forgotten the camera and the silent filmmaker. Edwin’s unobtrusiveness allows us to simply enjoy each other’s company.

We talk about Leo’s week, my family, historical trivia … anything and everything. The conversation ebbs and flows. Five years ago, I thought that Leo and I had nothing in common. Now, we have a shared history, mutual interests, and adventures enough to carry us through coffee. I can’t help but marvel at our ‘impossible’ friendship, which finds us laughing at McDonald’s while being filmed for a documentary. Who would have thought?


At the start of our conversation, while I still have the consciousness that the camera is on us, I notice that the lenses of Leo’s glasses are smudged. As I have many times before, I follow my instinct and ask Leo if I can help by cleaning them. He agrees, and I gently lift the frames, take a napkin and some water and set to work.

Photo Credit: Tucker Walsh

As I am rubbing the lenses, I think, This is the best of what we do for one another: gently clearing away the grime and helping each other to see. Leo has helped me to see where I’d otherwise have been blind. Thanks to Leo, I slow down more often. Thanks to him, I have been invited to see the beauty in purple flowers, ABBA songs, Mini Coopers … many of his favorite things have become my favorites too, because he has taught me to delight in them.


In addition to our adventures in documentary film, Leo and I also finished reading a biography of Stephen A. Douglas this week. We purchased the book on our 2008 trip to Springfield, Illinois, and three years of weekly reading and 870+ pages later, we have finally turned the last page.

As I read out the last lines to Leo, I feel my throat tightening; we’ve been reading this book for so long that its ending doesn’t feel as triumphant as I’d expected. Instead, it’s bittersweet. Stephen A. Douglas has died, and the final lines are a eulogy. Leo asks a quick question about the burial, and then falls silent. I am quiet too.

Leo and I haven’t talked about the fact that my husband and I will be relocating to our house in small-town Alabama this summer, that we won’t live down the block from him anymore. I hope to continue our weekly reading time over Skype, but I know that it will not be the same. It will be the end of a chapter in our story. Yet even as I turn the page, I can’t help but trust in the Love which scripted the story in the first place.

It’s a humbling thing to realize: none of the best things in my life have been expected. Not my time at L’Arche, not my friendship with Leo, not my deepest friendships, not falling in love with my husband. None of my greatest joys has ever been planned … at least, not by me.

There’s a part of me that can’t imagine living far away from Leo and the others at L’Arche, yet there’s also a part of me that’s tremendously excited about the new adventure. And that’s fitting, because Leo has helped me to see that what appears to be a definite ending may, in fact, be a beginning in disguise.


Who has helped you to see clearly this week? Tell me in the comments!

I love to hear your insights.


For more information on my current projects

(which include copywriting projects and speaking engagements),

please visit my brand-new website,!


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*Names have been changed.

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  1. Barbara March 5, 2012 at 8:46 PM - Reply

    Caroline this was so beautiful. You are so right… one door closes and another opens. I’m sensing the same kind of transition right now myself.

    • Caroline McGraw March 5, 2012 at 10:17 PM - Reply

      Thank you very much, Barbara! Blessings to you in your time of change and transition.

  2. susan March 5, 2012 at 11:44 PM - Reply

    What a loving tribute, Caroline. Like all good books, the joyful chapters of our lives can be revisited through our special memories.

    It really wasn’t exactly this week, but in these last weeks the most remarkable young man I met by happenstance has helped me see clearly by illuminating my gifts. His generous and kind encouragement was the impetus for starting my own blog and defining goals that were simply floating in my monkey mind. He’s a real gem and I am eternally grateful.

    For you as well Caroline…you are a blessing.

    • Caroline McGraw March 6, 2012 at 4:09 PM - Reply

      Wonderful, Susan! Congratulations on beginning your blog and moving forward with your goals. 🙂

  3. Metod March 6, 2012 at 2:03 AM - Reply

    Such beautiful and timely post for me. I’ll be looking for new job
    and moving the family into the big city soon and at times, I wish to see
    the future more clearly. But as these new beginnings appear scary sometimes,
    they are needed for us to move forward and stir our lives.

    Such exciting times for you Caroline…the movie, interviews, guest posts
    and new house. I’m really happy for you.
    Just keep rolling 🙂

    • Caroline McGraw March 6, 2012 at 4:10 PM - Reply

      Wow, sounds like big changes are afoot for you, Metod! And I agree – the changes may be scary, but it’s necessary to have life ‘stirred up’ at times! Thank you for your sharing and friendship. 🙂

  4. Traci Downey March 6, 2012 at 2:46 PM - Reply

    As we continue a journey to create a L’Arche community in Lancaster, your words offer wisdom: trust and be open to the Spirit. Thank you.

    • Caroline McGraw March 6, 2012 at 4:11 PM - Reply

      You are most welcome, Traci! I’m thrilled that you’re here – always great to connect with new parts of the L’Arche family. 😉

  5. Rache March 6, 2012 at 7:02 PM - Reply

    <3 don't leave me!

    • Caroline McGraw March 6, 2012 at 7:31 PM - Reply

      (Big hug), dear Rache – I will miss you very much. But truly, we’ve come so far in our friendship — from Main 208 to now — that a thousand miles seems less daunting than it might otherwise. 😉

  6. Allene Everett March 6, 2012 at 9:19 PM - Reply

    Anita McGraw and I are lifelong friends. She sent me your blog about moving to Florence, AL, my home town. How can I help you? What brings you our way? I hope we will be able to meet soon!
    Allene Everett

    • Caroline McGraw March 6, 2012 at 10:56 PM - Reply

      Allene, that’s very kind of you! I’m glad Anita connected us; I’d certainly love to meet once we’ve settled in! 🙂

      • Allene Everett March 6, 2012 at 11:12 PM - Reply

        Do u have access to my email. Is this blog? Contact me when you get to Florence.

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