Tag: memories
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How Do I Say Goodbye?
Having my siblings in for the weekend was so significant. After my mom (who gathered us for events big and small) passed, we knew we would have to make the effort to keep getting together and celebrating. None of us worried, but life has a way of getting busy and complicated and demanding and so…
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We’re Going on a Bear Hunt
The other day, Bridgette posted a beautiful piece called Photography: Beaver Moon. It featured an excerpt from the children’s book, We’re Going on a Bear Hunt. It took me back decades to when I was a little girl and my mother lead my Brownie Troop in a “Bear Hunt.” She was our troop leader and…
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Daisies
While out for a walk Sunday morning, I saw a patch of the happiest, prettiest, cheeriest daisies I’d seen this season. They made me smile. So much so that a few houses later, I decided to turn back and capture them with my camera. Daisies have made me smile since I was a little girl.…
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Dad and Daughter
A picture sent in the family chat,That keeps us all connected,And a part of each other’s lives,Stopped me in my tracks.I love seeing all the images,Nieces and nephews with their own babies now,The happiness, joy, wonder, and frustration,That come with parenting.But this picture,This one moved me,A dad and his daughter,Out walking and talking.It took me…
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When I Was a Child, I Behaved Like a Child
My word this year is STORY and I’ve been thinking a lot about what my story is, how I tell it, who I tell it to, when I tell it and why I tell it. Little memories come to me and I think about whether they are ones worth sharing, turning over, finding meaning in. I am…
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The 4th of July
Growing up, the 4th of July was my favorite holiday, unlike most kids who favored Christmas. For me, the 4th was all about adventure, excitement and hubbub, with my house at the center of it. We were ideally situated (in my mind, anyway) just beyond the launching site for the fireworks. From our backyard, the…
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The Stockings Were Hung…
Stockings Made with love Upon each grandchild’s arrival Regardless of the month. She would run to the fabric store And comb through the patterns To find just the right scene for the new baby. Felt cut with accuracy And layered just so Then stitched with steady hands And held in place by the tiny sequins…
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A Map of My Hand
My life story can be told using a map of my hand. I start with the obvious…the scars. There are the stitches I got when I was 8, on the inside of my middle finger and at my wrist. My fingers were bent as a child, and surgery straightened them, but left its mark. Years…
The Journey Inward 