What’s True

This morning came early and while I’m not sitting in complete darkness, I have that feeling of being ensconced in a cocoon, safe from the world beginning to wake up. Coffee and candles help brighten the mood and a cacophony of layered blankets provide comfort and weight. It’s almost freezing outside, but not until Tuesday,…

Knitting Lessons- A Christmas Story

He was sitting in the far corner of the coffee shop singular and discreet, a young tattooed and pierced man, not unlike so many of our youth in this little foothill town. What made him singular was the way he was knitting right there for all to see. Surrounding coffee drinkers were focused on smart…

Short Sighted

There are people who recognize the depths of grief and have no expectations. If they don’t understand they want to, showing up with openness and a willingness to hear whatever words need to be said. Allowing me space to unravel the confusion and build a life with clarity and purpose, absent the person I partnered…

Good Vibes

He was standing to the right of me, just to the edge of “Sergio’s” outdoor seating area.  I was sitting on the rim of a planter box shared by a huge and plastic black spider, meant to scare me.  We were both watchers, this gentle man and I, but he became more.  A Dean Martin…

Dear Alan

It’s been a year now, since you left and I miss seeing you around town, waiting to meet for coffee or a quick bowl of minestrone on blustery days.  Feeling you wake up at 3 am, making your way to the bathroom, still sleepy and trance like.  There haven’t been many blustery days lately… have…

Butterfly Wings

The temperatures have fallen quickly here, and layers are fine for the morning but not needed in the afternoon. Stories of loss are fine in some moments but not always the truest expression of adaptation and emergence. Budding wings are fine too. Bundling up when the chill returns, in my gnarly worn blankets, turns this…

Peruvian Cactus

Alan’s Birthday was yesterday, and he would have been 75… but he made it to 74 and we are grateful. My younger son, and daughter in law with our grandbaby Joaquin spent the morning at my little abode, that holds so many memories. We shed some tears and ate some food, played with toys, and…

The Un-Taming Of Me

There is a certain amount of taming that goes on, after one’s spouse dies. There are no rules written for appropriate behavior when you’ve been broken from the inside, in an invisible sort of way. Cracked open, cracked inward, cracked like crazy old paint bottles, or sunburned skin that hasn’t breathed enough air.  Bags under…

I’m Still Here

My home is becoming more and more about me and not the person who left… because I’m still here. Bit by bit things have been added, changed, or let go. The desire to create a nourishing and singular environment is mine.  I recently purchased a Bohemian style robe, soft in fabric and knit together with…

It Is What It Is

I’m not cured of this feeling, nor do I expect to be anytime soon. It’s a feeling of amputation, emptiness, singularness, and a deep down to my bones, quiet and shocking grief. “Helping” authors speak these words and yet not one experience can be counted on.  That’s why I shy away from stages, steps and…