living well, living without

publisher’s note

When I was a child, part of my family’s bedtime ritual was prayer. As a member of a large family, the list of people prayed for was long. I can still recite most of that list. Somewhere between my grandma and cousin Richard was my dad’s cousin, Virginia.

Virginia died in 1949, long before I was born, but her image always intrigued me. I grew up knowing only fragments of her story. She was a young, beautiful woman, engaged to be married when she passed away. Her death was shrouded in mystery and sadness.

Over time, my prayers evolved, and prayers for Virginia were replaced by more practical prayers, like help with my exams. Then, in my early twenties, I began having gastrointestinal problems for no known reason. Virginia’s name resurfaced, because my age and health problems were remarkably similar to hers before she died. This wasn’t the kind of connection with Virginia that I wanted, but it brought out more of her story. For ten years, Virginia had sought help for gastrointestinal troubles that grew progressively worse. She went to many doctors, even traveling to the Mayo Clinic, but still there were no conclusive answers. Now, almost 50 years later, her brother Bob’s voice still breaks with emotion as he speaks of her.

“I loved her very much. She was a wonderful sister,” he told me.” Doctors thought her illness might be psychological. She eventually underwent four or five operations where portions of her intestines were removed, but those procedures didn’t seem to help.”

The doctor who performed the final operation on Virginia never sent the family a bill, which only added to the unanswered questions surrounding her death. Today when I think of Virginia, I strongly suspect that she was gluten intolerant, just as I am. Her disease was never conclusively diagnosed, and left untreated, it cost her life. Virginia’s story motivates me daily as I work on this magazine.

How many people suffer for years not knowing that by simply changing their diet, health could be restored?

Unlike Virginia, we live in a time when the medical community is awakening to the realities of food intolerances and where the choices of safe food products are growing by leaps and bounds. We have wonderful options. Read through the pages of this issue, and you’ll discover that a special diet doesn’t have to mean a bland diet. There are good food alternatives available, and the products only continue to improve.

I’ve been impressed by the business owners I’ve met through this magazine, many of whom produce specialty products that make life easier for those of us with food and/or chemical sensitivities. These people care about more than just the bottom line. Their passion fires mine.

Tragically, it’s too late to help Virginia and others like her who may have died unnecessarily and too young, their medical problems undiagnosed. But I am thankful that we live in a time when the world is a friendlier place for people like you and me, people who are living without. This magazine is named for one of my nephews, whose nickname is “Sully.” I am blessed to be an aunt to a total of ten wonderful children, nine of whom are shown here in this photo taken on the first day of summer 1998. School’s out, kids. Enjoy the summer.