Before dawn 21 years ago today the call came that my mother had died. It was not a surprise; she'd been sick for the better part of a year. I left home in 1972. It was my mother's fondest wish that I return, but I had a career and had built a life--several, really--and to be honest, as Bob Dylan . . .
Is stay-at-home hard for you? I hear you. Scrolling through my photos from earlier in the year made me miss the time when I was out and about with friends, having fun and even traveling. But now, protecting ourselves and others means we'll have to stay at home a while longer. I know it feels like . . .
Today I'm giving thanks for the many blessings in my life. And for all of you, who keep me company here. May this day be one of joy and thanksgiving for you and yours. . . .
Each of us goes through challenging periods in our lives, times of struggle and pain. If we're lucky, we count one or two trusted comrades among our friends. Folks who are able to see us and hear us --because the truth is that we all need to be seen and heard, especially in times of trouble. And in . . .
I'd love to jump into this car and take a spin back to the past, when life seemed less complicated. Was it better? Maybe not.I just know it was less complicated. Coping wasn't such a chore. Today our group of blogging Baby Boomers remind us all that life goes on no matter what else is happening in . . .
There's a lot of willful ignorance out there. I say "willful" because sometime I sit in disbelief of how people I thought were discerning can hold such dissonant views. When Christianity isn't This one is a big hot button for me because Christ was very, very clear about his expectations of his . . .
One of my friends lives in a state of constant regret. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. I can see how it happened: Traumatized at an early age by a dominant, unreasonable and abusive father, this sensitive soul built protective walls. The walls weren't strong enough and didn't keep them safe. But what . . .
Walking down the hall in my temporary hotel quarters in my hometown, a discarded star on the carpet caught the light and my attention. It's been there for at least several weeks, resisting suitcase wheels, footfalls, vacuuming. Every day I'd notice it as I went to my rooms. As I write, it's still . . .
The audio in my car is always on, and on LOUD. I've been dancing (and car-dancing) my way through my time in my hometown, preparing for closing on our new second home (which already should have occurred as you read this). "Of course you are!" you might say. "You've got a loving husband, two . . .
This is for Michael, Gregory, Bonnie, Michele, Scott, bestie Lee, Maui girls Susan and Alice, Cheri, Joanne, MaryLou and for my beloved Marilyn, who is now on the other side but still always present. I live a life of the mind and the heart. It is not for everyone. Sometimes it's a challenge even . . .