I walk my ginger cookie dog Rusty every morning in the hour just before dawn. It’s a sweet time. A gift from heaven. Peaceful. Quiet. A writer’s blessing. The hush before the...
It’s starting to happen. Truth is, it’s been happening all along this life’s journey of mine. But now there’s a sweetness to it. An undeniable inevitable essence that...
On the day before 94-year old Bessie died, she announced to her younger son Larry that she was breaking out. Clear out of the blue. A declaration of independence so foreign to her...
I have a big patience muscle. I haven’t always. But the older I get the bigger it grows. It was tested fully those tedious grey hours that we sat waiting for a doctor in...
While Ma was lingering in her last weeks, and then days on Earth, I was walking a tightrope. It was surreal. Dreamlike most of the time. It was a delicate balance. How do you keep...
I learned to meditate while Ma was dying. If she had died suddenly. Or in another place. At a different time. I’d probably have a different story to tell. As an enduring student...
As I was driving into work last week a Jim Croce tune came on the radio. I’ll Have To Say I Love You in a Song. I was reminded of what a lovely and gifted songwriter he was and...
On Halloween night I was driving home from work when I passed a little girl who was out trick-or-treating with her mom. She was about six years old and dressed as a Princess. ...
I miss Ma. Sharing cups of tea. Or lingering conversations on a quiet summer evening. Laughing until we cried. Long walks through the neighborhood. Enjoying the pleasure...
