March 13, 2020
Late afternoon clouds hint at possible sunset brilliance, as I drive back from the memory care home where my mother now resides. The solace of a sunset would be a welcome moment of grace, after an afternoon of primal heartache. I park by our forest cabin and leave city and keys behind. I delay assuaging my hunger so that I can walk to the lake before the sun disappears, just in case. Never can tell in advance how sunset… READ MORE
February 23, 2020
I have arrived on a quest to find a place to pause, and without hurry, tend to the questions that keep nagging at me… “have I become all I am meant to be? ... Is there a next right answer waiting for me? ... What does it really mean to live my best life?”
I’m in the reception room of Goodnestone Park Manor, the big 17th-century wooden staircase curling around me. I inhale, more than a… READ MORE
January 26, 2020
As my 93-year-old mother’s primary caregiver, I’ve learned that there’s no distinction between caregiving and the rest of what I do. Caring and its active practices are instinctive and integral. Care pervades everything from friendship to writing, art to taking out the garbage.
I’ve also learned to release the apparent distinction between the whole and the broken. I see both at once in my mother, whose… READ MORE