I woke up feeling blue. I stumbled through my usual routine: grateful list, brush teeth, comb hair, put on mascara, fold laundry from last night and start the next load, toddle downstairs for a cappuccino, water my flowers… As I was watering, I listened to
So my new mystery novel comes out on Saturday on Amazon and I could not be more thrilled! I say this because I’m also feeling quite trepidatious about it, and I just read a very interesting study that you can reduce anxiety by embracing it
Right now, tonight, on this moonlit night, I am dreaming of trains, and specifically the luxury train to end all trains: the Orient Express. I took my teens last summer and we aspired to create our own Golden Age of Travel…
This is my Workout Wear.
I just finished reading Sue Monk Kidd’s new novel, The Book of Longings, and there were so many parts that struck me and inspired me. Her writing is beautiful and vivid, I want to swim in it. The way she writes enters my dreams and
My Loves! There is so much to be sad about in our world! Let us now allow our wardrobes to be one of them! It seems the more I grieve, the more I cover myself with sparkles, tutus, feathers, jewels, and color. Outward signs of
This morning, I stumbled out of bed, put on my big sunglasses and my short silk robe, and felt sad when I noticed it’s a little shorter on me because apparently I’ve grown a little rounder during this pandemic. In my mind, I share a
Divorce and death seem especially piercing on holidays. I don’t know why. Certainly global pandemics and worldwide quarantines don’t help matters. In fact, they do quite a bit of piercing themselves. It’s something to ponder while I sit here on this rainy morning, drinking my
Instead of LOL I now write SOL–it stands for Sob Out Loud and means sun in Spanish, so the duo meaning of sobbing out loud followed by a burst of sunshine is pretty perfect. Because, let’s face it, there’s a lot to sob about right now.
And now the baby is 16, the same age as Sleeping Beauty when she pricked her finger on that spinning wheel and fell asleep. But my girl is definitely not asleep. She’s awake, probably the most awake person I know. At 16 years old, the is full of love and kindness and a devotion to truth and justice that seems unshakeable. This girl can easily defeat fire-breathing dragons. So maybe all the wishes from the women/fairies at her baby shower worked that day.
The truth of the truths, the truth of my battered grieving soul, is that love just keeps growing. I loved my father so much and then I met Kim, and my heart burst into lights and a whole new love, a love I had never seen before and it felt like my heart got bigger, and then I became a mother, and my love grew even bigger. Boundless. Timeless. Eternal. I still feel it when I look at the sunlight on the sea, when I link arms with my son, when I hear my daughter yelling, “Mom! I need an emergency hug right away!”
And, now that I know the staggering pain that comes with losing the people you love so much, if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a damn thing. I wouldn’t trade one extraordinary moment.
When we made the wings all those years ago, Kim kept saying we were infusing them with our love. I think she was right. Because if there’s one real truth in this world, no matter where people go when they die, the love remains, and in the swamp of grief, I need to remember the wings.
