The Journey
Welcome to The Journey, a space where Mary McKSchmidt shares her transition from business executive to advocate, photographer, poet, and storyteller. Here, she invites you to walk alongside her as she explores life in the Great Lakes region, its beauty and fragility, and the bonds that connect us all.
“Rainbow Connection”
This curious song sung by a frog appeared mysteriously, a do-loop in the brain that would not disappear shortly after her death. It was not “Oh what a beautiful morning,”“Take me out to the ball game,”“Let’s go fly a kite” or any of the songs we used to sing...
Celebrating Mother
On Sunday, July 20, 2025, Jane McKinney—my mother, friend, teammate, co-author, chair chat buddy, and co-creator of “A Bench and a Tree”—passed peacefully, surrounded by her children in front of her beloved window. She was ninety-eight years old. Although no...
This Day
for Rubin Most days I am with heras she begins a departure that isinevitable, reasonable, heart-smashing. But this day I am with him. And while the horizon is swallowedby a disconcerting fog, the stillness of this momentin his presence soothesand...
Why I Write Poetry
In a life that’s zigzagged from newspapers to corporations to advocating for the Great Lakes and seniors, I write poetry to reveal and weave the jagged threads that are me. If one of my poems resonates with you, it is as if a beacon of light flashes through the...
Not Just Any Rock
Not a Petoskey. Not a skipping stone. Not even a geode. Jagged, slightly larger than a softball, the rock was among the other rocks hauled, dumped, and arranged ten years ago to create a border between the carport and manicured lawn. It rested comfortably among the...
You Ask
what am I doingto care for myself this day in May when winds plunge temperatures near freezingand the sun slips behindthe too-familiar gray of spring? I am donning a winter coat,a pair of mittensand helping him launch the new and unfamiliar dinghywith a seatback...
Celebrating Mothers
After tediously tucking twigs and grasses into the juncture of the service berry tree outside Mother’s window for days, the robin nestled her plump body into the mud-lined floor of the nest and poked her tail in our direction as if to say, quit...
More Than a Tax on Tea
Could the king be checked by the people? That was the underlying question asked by the Sons of Liberty 250 years ago, according to author and historian Heather Cox Richardson. In a talk given April 18th in Boston’s Old North Church on the anniversary of...
What is Hope?
(Reprinted from May 21, 2017) Although there were thousands crammed into the Vatican Square in Rome, it was as if the Pope was talking directly to me. Speaking of Mary, the mother of Jesus and the woman for whom I was named, Pope Francis called her the...
So Much Wrong—So Little Cardboard
One look at the hundreds of people lining River Avenue April 5th in Holland, MI, the multiplicity of messages on hand-painted signs, the photographs and videos of similar peaceful protests across over 1300 towns and cities in the United States, and it should...
With Love, Anne
My dear friend, so many things are bombarding you, so few over which you have control. If I were there, I’d send the boys down to the man cave, pour each of us a glass of merlot, and usher you into the sunroom to chat. It would be like old times. You do not...
Do Not Go Gentle
Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. ...