The Journey

A Hospital, A Church, and Clue #1 A HospitalThe first significant bench of my life was anchored on the grounds of a Hospital near the lake front in Chicago  where my mother gave birth to my sister Bernice.  I and two of my younger sisters were placed...

A family gathers in June, a tradition that began with a mother, a widow, a grandmother, a woman celebrating the safe return of her four sons from World War II. A woman everyone called “Mom.” Even the townspeople. The year was 1948. Seventy-five years later the...

She is awakened before dawn by the sparrows,not the symphony of song she hears in the forestbut the clicking of claws on the fiberglass overhead. She rolls over, on vacation, closes her eyes.Ripples drum steadily against the hullas fishing boats motor toward the...

Do you remember your favorite bench? What made it your favorite? Would you be willing to share your story—in a sentence or two? And a photo, if you have one? At https://www.facebook.com/mary.mckschmidt1? I never noticed benches until several years ago, when my...

There is something soothing about the slap of the wavesagainst the hull, the warmth of a long-awaited spring sun, the sight of a lone seagull soaring overhead and then a runabout flying a “F_ Biden” flagchugs toward the channeland I forget my resolve to leave all...

Last week, I had the opportunity to share the stage with Mother as we presented our talk, "A Bench, a Tree, and a Flower" to residents in her senior living community. Standing next to Mother, my heart was as full as when I hear the call of the first bird in the...

Daughter: The dandelion is her favorite she tells me after I pull the gangly plant flourishing outside her bedroom window in the green carpet of the mock strawberry. MotherSpecial PlantsThey are invasives--the most hated ones--the ones no one wantsgrowing in...

Eavesdropping on an Interview with the Co-Authors ​Daughter: Creating this book is the result of “chair chat,” the thirty-to-forty minutes Mother and I spend together every morning—she in the recliner, me on the floor at her feet.  Mother: It’s very...

When Mother and I decided to co-author a book together, we were looking for a crack in the isolating wall of COVID—something fun we might do together. We had no idea we would be starting a conversation with so many people about how we might help each other through...