{rough thoughts on love and mortality in the middle years}

I have no business writing when I need to be packing, preparing, paying bills, picking up prescriptions, cleaning house, and washing laundry, readying myself and the family for me to leave town.  These are very drafty thoughts on aging parents, ailing friends, launching teenagers, and being human.     Love and Mortality in the Middle Years Our […]

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{When You’re Not Qualified to be Alive}

So I’m trying something new.  Picking a subject at random that I seem to obsess about or fixate on, something that grips my imagination in compulsive and ugly ways, (I started with one of my secret obsessions.) I’ll write honestly without  a lot self-editing or controlling “the message” to see what comes out.  No answers. […]

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44 and 40 more!

I know, I know.  Hoky.  But I can’t help it — that phrase is ringing in my  head — “44 and 40 more.” DWELL IN POSSIBILITY. – Emily Dickinson I love, love, love dear Emily D. I have without a doubt found healing and answers in the last few years looking backward.  The truth of […]

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When my heart hurts, I wait. (a poem)

I could be doing many things right now, my mother taught me that.  I should always comes to mind first. I could, gives breathing room. She had a lifetime of shoulds. She lived for every one. And lost herself.  And so, she sits now with her regrets.  I could be cleaning, calling a friend, or washing up.  I could be playing the piano, or […]

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