“When the path reveals itself, follow it” is a quote from Cheryl Strayed’s book of quotes Brave Enough. Admittedly, I’m a sucker for a good quote, but this one resonated with me. Although the words first hit me as revelatory, I realize that following paths is exactly what I’ve been doing my entire life, and it’s been a beautiful, difficult, messy, grand journey. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. If you have not read Strayed’s Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail, you’re missing out. It is about love, loss, the choices we make, and never
Last week’s spurt of container gardening to pretty up the approach to my yard has got me thinking back to my gardening roots. I have never been much of a flower gardener (aside from the occasional potted plant on my deck), but Mom and Dad loved their vegetable garden, and by extension, it became part of my life, too, albeit briefly. Our first garden that I can recall was when I was 10 years old and we had just moved from Illinois to Wisconsin. We rented the downstairs of a small, two-story house in the middle of farm country and forest.
This is the first Mother’s Day since Mom passed away. One month ago today, actually. Ironically, today was going to be our first Mother’s Day together in over a decade. Since I adopted my sweet baby girl, Grace, Mom had wanted to meet her. For over three years, I sent pictures of Grace to Mom, showed Mom videos of Grace, and I told her what a comfort Grace had been to me since the day I brought her home from the shelter. Nearly every time we talked, Mom would say she wanted nothing more in life than to meet her grand-dog. It sounds
Anyone who knows the love of a dog will likely tell you that dog is their baby. What many folks don’t share is that said dog is their world. I’ve been admitting that since the day I found Little Miss on the Wake County Animal Center website. I met her, and my heart melted. She was mine, but more importantly, I was hers. I was going through a tough time when I adopted Grace, and it is no secret that she rescued me as much as I rescued her. She was homeless, emaciated, and had heart worm disease. I had
The past several weeks have been stressful, emotional, and fast. My mother experienced much pain unnecessarily, was hospitalized, recovered, was again hospitalized, discharged to hospice care, and within a few short days of that, she passed away. Before I could finish making my case with her medical provider regarding her care, before I could follow-up on my demand for an actual doctor, Mom died. I have plenty on my mind, but little that I’d like to share. Not yet, and possibly not ever. Except her eulogy. I wrote that, I spoke it at her funeral, and I’d like to share it with you.