by mary1988 | Dec 28, 2012 | 2012
When I reflect on 2012, I want to remember peering through the lens of a camera and falling in love with Ireland; holding hands with Rubin in the cockpit of our sailboat, listening to the calls of loons echoing across the Canadian waters of the North Channel;...
by mary1988 | Dec 10, 2012 | 2012
My prayers fly across the dry desert wash, soaring up the ragged tops of the Catalina Mountains until finally touching the pink whisper of dawn. I pray to the spirits of all the great women who have gone before me that they might provide me insight, compassion,...
by mary1988 | Nov 11, 2012 | 2012
A man died Sunday morning, October 7, 2012. He was a man of many names. Harry. Honey. Dad. Grandpa. Thomas. Professor. Coach. Even Mr. VIP. But to me, he will always be “my dad.” In a sixty year relationship, it is a relatively new name defining my relationship with...
by mary1988 | Oct 1, 2012 | 2012
As I lean against the wooden railing of the viewing platform eyeing the small dune perched on top a cliff of moraine, I ponder the legend of Sleeping Bear. Created by Native Americans, the story describes a bear and her two cubs, fleeing a raging fire on the other...
by mary1988 | Sep 17, 2012 | 2012
“The only people who live north in the winter are people who have never lived south,” my husband tells the world when gale force winds sweep across the lake, snow stinging the eyes of anyone walking the beach. That, of course, would be me. Occasionally, Rubin joins me...
by mary1988 | Aug 29, 2012 | 2012
Life’s transitions remind me of a caterpillar dangling in a cocoon of darkness. It takes faith to believe one can emerge and spread one’s wings in a flurry of color before finally soaring above all doubts, all fears, all heartache.
