instagram pinterest linkedin facebook twitter goodreads

I am my mother

About 40 hours before your death, you combed your straight, fine day and applied lipstick. You were determined to get up from the hospital bed and walk the halls of the hospital.
I wanted to take a photo of you, sitting in that hospital room chair, but I didn't.
It didn't seem right, given that  Read More 
Be the first to comment

You want this '70s kid to work for you

So I was talking to my sister in California this morning.
She's an epidemiologist, has a Ph.D. and is the 'smart one' in the family.
The subject was girl empowerment, choices, our childhood and my unfortunate unemployment situation.
And I told her that  Read More 
Be the first to comment

Mom's eulogy

To her very last. quiet breath, mom lived and moved in the background, purely existing for everyone else around her.
Not wanting anything for herself.
“Don’t fuss,” she would say.
But she fussed over everyone else.
“Don’t worry about me!” mom would exclaim.
But she would worry and lose sleep thinking about  Read More 
Be the first to comment

Making sense of mama

While reading a book on "Honoring Grief," I was prompted to think of my relationship with my now dead mother.
The images that come to mind include:
Mom, staring off, into space. Sometimes eating/chomping on crackers or sipping coffee.
Her eyes far away.
She barely acknowledges or notices me.
I don't even recall  Read More 
Be the first to comment

Spirit is willing, flesh is weak

November 11, 2017.
It's the day, Veterans' Day, she died, or passed away.
For years, I've been reading about death and dying, grieving and souls, near-death experiences, and those who communicate with the "dead."
I still can't comprehend where or who my mother is right now.
Some of the last words she said to me were: " Read More 
Post a comment

Monarch butterfly

After a long hike in the woods overlooking Danbury, Connecticut with my dog, Skyli, a rescue from Tennessee, I saw the Monarch butterfly flutter to a purple clover on the ground.
I stopped and recalled my late grandmother's obsession with butterflies. "When I see butterflies, it means someone's going to die," she would often say, referring to birthday cards.
She did die  Read More 
8 Comments
Post a comment