The sound and the smell of the ocean, mere metres away, blow over me as I lie under the thatched roof. My tears run down. It’s Carson’s birthday, the second since he’s been gone. He would have been 29. The Balinese woman massaging me says nothing. Perhaps it’s professional discretion, perhaps it’s because she has … Continue reading Moving on from Grieving
It was a lovely graduation— not the official university event, but the student organized party where they received their silver forestry rings. It was a beautiful group of young people. (My son, at 27, had been considered a mature student.) They shone with the enthusiasm of having accomplished this, knowing they were moving on to … Continue reading Graduation and Moving On
It seems so innocuous, the chapstick sitting on my nightstand, between the water glass and the book I’m reading. It’s not. I found it in the pocket of his work pants, when I was laundering the clothes that someone had shoved into his suitcase, cleaning out his room after he died. Every day, when I … Continue reading Living with the Memories
“Are those real Gucci sandals?” I was looking down at my son’s feet. We were in Hawaii, because the first Christmas not in our family home was too hard for my children. “Who’d be crazy enough to spend that kind of money on a pair of slides?” Carson replied. It was only years later, sorting … Continue reading If I Die Young
Lately, a song will take up residence in my head. I’m not talking an ear-worm that lasts a few hours, but ones that stay days, even weeks, always playing in the background. They aren’t happy songs. Currently it’s Hurt, not the Nine Inch Nails original but the cover of it that Johnny Cash did in … Continue reading Songs in My Head- Part 1
Today, I had the chance to run over the surf asshole. He’d fallen off his board right in front of me, when I was already catching the wave. I didn’t. I veered to the right (on a left breaking wave) , stayed on my knees, didn’t stand till I was past him, then broke left … Continue reading Work in Progress
“What about these books?“ “Do you want us to pack up the Iitala glasses?” “One of the bookcases has to go, or the cabinet in the bedroom. Are there any extra duvets anywhere?” Someone else packing up my stuff My head is spinning as my sisters video chat through the apartment I haven’t seen for … Continue reading Letting Go, Yet Again
Brave Travels 