Mother’s Day Every Day
Before the custom of worldly influence took over our consciousness, at least for myself, the celebration of Mother’s Day was a simple time in our family. We’d commandeer a box of Kleenex with pink or blue tissues and craft as many flowers as we could with a bobby pin. Even though Mom was mortified we’d […]
The Returning Soldier Who Spoke Without Words
Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. Almost 30 years ago, my father died. Diagnosis to death was a mere four months. So young—only 65. He spent two short years with his grandsons before the cancer took him. The cancer stole the joy of watching his grandsons grow along with the opportunity to pass on his quiet wisdom. With all hope gone, I decided to pull his feeding tube—no sense prolonging the inevitable. He was not in pain. He did not cry. He held my mother’s hand. “Marie is here with me,” he
Maiden to Mother to Crone
From Maiden to Mother to Crone It occurred to me recently that my days seem filled with a constant repetition of one- and two-step tasks, of just moving things from here to there and back again. I often find the massive amount of labor required to simply maintain life exhausting. The Zen Koan my mother often quoted resonates with deeper meaning the older I get: “Before enlightenment; chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment; chop wood, carry water.” She’s been parked in her easy chair, drifting in and out, while, all around her, we purge heavy emotional energy along with the cat
My Mother’s Hands
My mom had very small hands. Yet, I was excited when my hands were as big as hers. Mom’s hands were dainty, but she didn’t like dainty jewelry. She preferred bold, “important” pieces. Her bold rings looked even more “important” on her tiny fingers. I had fun trying on her rings and bracelets. /// Mom and I started going to the theatre when I was little. The first show we saw was The Wizard of Oz. When the witch came screaming down the aisle, I ducked under my seat, terrified. Mom told me all about the show before we came, but
