The Journey

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 forest...

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 the...

The first time I was in the Fountain Street Church in Grand Rapids was 2005. I sat in one of the leather chairs in a standing-room only crowd of people listening to a coalition of scientists, business leaders, government agencies, mayors, and others report the Great...

For the Petal Pushers Garden Club of Kalamazoo In the autumn, a mother removed dead leaves from geraniums and hung them upside-down in the cellar. Winter skeletons. A child slipped down the stairs to the dimly-lit room to wait for the green sticks to become leaves....

“We’ll Be Friends Forever, Won’t We, Pooh?”Piglet in A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Poo ​He waits until making eye contact, shoulders hunchedover a red walker, black jacket zipped to his chin,hood pulled about his head as the uncharacteristic winds roar through the...

About the bookAfter she loses her husband of sixty-three years and six weeks later, her beloved dog, Jane McKinney turns to writing poetry to find comfort. Residing in Arizona and feeling isolated from her six children located in the eastern part of the...