What do you want to be when you grow up? Me, I wanted to be a therapist — a child therapist,
Reagan left. She was here for a week, shouldering by herself the big task of keeping me company in addition to completing
I am sitting upright now, a thing I haven’t been doing much of these last few days. Surgery on Tuesday went
Three months, give or take. I am, in a distance measured by time, three months down the road from the diagnosis and surgery
A copy/paste post is floating around Facebook of late urging the person tagged to post one picture (and one ONLY!)
I have been writing stories; full-on efforts to plunge my heart down deep into the flow of what goes on between and
I am learning to quilt. Well actually, until just this moment, I have been devoted to learning about quilting.
I’ve exchange thoughts with some, but mostly I have been silent. No words. It is hard to expect mere words to encompass the
I started riding again, which is true if you think of riding in very loose terms. It wasn’t hard. It also was not
Two weeks ago we met with our oncologist and I mean that in the very personal and possessive sense of
Life goes on. How utterly simple and confounding. The essential acts of waking and sleeping and being (relatively) alive and conscious will
I have only lost “normal” to the extent that I thought that I “had” normal in the first place. I do not want my past life back. I do not want it, because it is not mine to have. I want the life I have now, this present moment.
Fear can take up a lot of room, if given even half a chance. In spite of your mighty efforts at optimism,
I have breast cancer. Trust me, I didn’t see that one coming. There is no history of it in our
I will just go ahead and blurt this right out: we have added another puppy to the household and by
Our horses live together as a herd. Now, that may seem like an obvious thing for a horse, but you would be
Geographic distance has expanded the gaps between our times of togetherness with family and friends. That bears its own sadness, but it also brings a richness. I notice the way my mental picture feels a touch out of alignment when the real person walks in the door, because they have evolved into a deeper rendition of themselves while we were each off in our own respective worlds. How delightful to get in sync once more. How delightful to be in their space, to see the ways in which they’ve grown, to hold them close, and then to set them free again. Life is most certainly very good.
Facebook has been serving up little reminders to me about what was happening in our lives one year ago. Yesterday, it
Three old ladies live in this house. Two of them are dogs. If you quickly concluded that I am the third
Now that I know how the most current chapter in Gracie’s story is to be written, I can say with great certainty: