I’ve long seen my mom in Mary, but it is only now that I realize my mom saw a bit of Mary in me, too. As I went off to college, graduated and moved to bigger cities in states far from home, got my first suit, my first apartment. As she watched me experiencing all the highs and lows that come with tossing your proverbial hat in the air as a single working woman. As she saw me live out some of the Mary Richards’ experiences she never had.
I’ve had a huge amount of crap healing work surface this past week. The kind of stuff that a year from now I will look back on and muse, that was so powerful and worth every painful moment. But when you are living it? Total and utter bologna. In fact, I have decided 2016 hasContinue reading “The Final Push (This Might Hurt)”
Last Friday I returned to my home-state of Michigan to attend my 20th high school reunion. I flew out of SW Florida as the hurricane was approaching Daytona Beach and watched news coverage from the airport. If you looked outside of its floor to ceiling windows you would have seen less wind and rain thanContinue reading “A return home”
I look at this younger, much more innocent version of myself and think, honey, hold on. You have a wild ride ahead of you.
They were slim and satin. She kept them next to her bed, or on cold days next to the heat vent. When we went Christmas shopping together, in between buying gifts for others she would stop by the racks of ladies’ slippers at Hudson’s Department store. This was a long time ago, before it became Macy’s. She wouldContinue reading “My mother’s slippers”
The first dream was two weeks ago: I am in a bus. We are nearing the place that is in the snowy hill; it is beautiful out. I look up and see these huge white cranes, morphing, dancing in the sky. I point and tell everyone but nobody seems to see them. The second dream quicklyContinue reading “How Two Dreams Helped Me Cope with Pregnancy Loss”
The last few weeks I’ve found myself fantasizing about what it would be like to have my mom around. I doubt this is healthy, but it goes like this: I envision her showing up and going to work. She would get my kitchen really clean—sparkling, lemon-fresh clean. She would brush my daughter’s hair, patiently untanglingContinue reading “Finding My Village after Losing My Mom”
Last night I found this list tucked away in my journal: Sleep. writing. time alone. It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at. Then I remembered it was from a journaling workshop I participated in before Christmas. The question that was asked on the call was: What is essential to yourContinue reading “Sleep. Writing. Time alone. What’s on your list?”