I think of her way with wordsthe slow, steady shuffle of her gaitAnd feel here coming towards me the way a loved one would meet you half way down the path.I imagine she wears a well washed shirt, loose pantsand a pair of sandals."Mary" I ask "Does this get any easier?"She does not speak but… Continue reading On not being Mary Oliver
Hey, it’s mid week of mid-semester. I’ve told generation Z to put away their cell phones more than I care to tell you. Today, I referenced Chicago-the musical and was met with blank stares. I worked a scene so rigorously I left the classroom sweating (I wasn’t acting, I was directing). Two weeks ago 3… Continue reading goblins
My grandmother loved to dance, coffee with a lot of sugar, dogs. She was unafraid to speak up for herself no matter her age, was a great listener, and spent a ton of time on the telephone with friends. She loved college football, sweet-tea, the mini-series “The Thornbirds”. She loved to laugh, loved good gossip… Continue reading A lady all her own
I have made a mess of it. I have thrown it away. Hurled it really, right out the window. I have made of a go of it. I sat my heart down and said ‘you may or may not be ready but you are going there.’ And I did it. I went. I have made… Continue reading Lock down
Away in the tiny corners of your room lives the left over magic of childhood. A space that saw so much of you grow and change is now seeing you again as though it were the first time. Yes, sure, the floors need to be swept and the brown boxes need to be broken down.… Continue reading A bitter moment
I was not perfect. In fact, sometimes, I was awful to be around. I was not always right, but I tried desperately to always be kind. I succeeded mostly. I did not always apologize (first or at all) but I did leave the door to my heart open and the threshold welcoming.I was learning. I was working… Continue reading A good try.
Dear Mackenzie, While walking Bella, I saw on the pavement a large Daddy Long Legs sitting, staring in the direction of Starbucks. He did not move when I approached, nor did he flinch when I stepped over him. I looked over my shoulder as I walked away. I saw him wave his top hat. I… Continue reading A letter to my sister, on her Birthday:
There are no words sometimes for the journey you are on. You must get to the other side before you can process. In the middle of the sun setting, when everything glows, its easy to want to stop and look around you. Marvel at the beauty. Sit and wait. But sometimes before you know it,… Continue reading Wilder and wilder still