It's just me. Again.

I hope you find a way to get through holidays. Anniversaries of life and death. Significant moments. * Mother's day is a day of thankfulness otherwise I sufficate under the blankets of self-pity and loss. Write to the women who have shared their nurturing heart with you. Be a "mom" to someone else who needs to be held for a moment, someone who needs an unconditional hug. By finding the "mothers" that surround you and looking into your life for those you "mother" you'll find a vast array of women (even if coworkers!) who deserve to be celebrated. * Christmas, a day to share life with the living. Embrace family and friends that laugh and love. Intentionally surround yourself with them. Make new traditions. Create new memories. Drink a little. *I have had only two moments since her death that caught me off guard. Flooded with tears. The first was 6 years after she passed. I realized mid-day that it was the anniversary of her death AND it wa...

I push play and close my eyes. To hear every string, every key. Your voice is just how I remember. Music flows to the empty spaces. Fills the gaps of my thirsty soul. I am full and undone. Slowing down. Aware. Today, the earth smells like a new book. Listening to music here: Spotify

I'm amazed (and shouldn't be!) at the connection between food and the condition of my body. Don't laugh. I'm naive. I know it. I'm pretty sure you've heard my story. At the slightest hint that anyone is willing to listen I don't hesitate to tell you about my year from hell and how traditional medicine was killing me. Let me refresh you: Stressed to an all-time high, sicker than I'd ever been before, I was back in the dr's office for a 5th antibiotic in a 6 month span. 2003 was a rough year. Constant post nasal drip, an ear infection, chest congestion, sinus junk ... you get the idea. I'd been to the doctor 4 times already and this time he didn't even look at my ears, nose, or throat before writing me another script. Did you catch that? He DIDN'T EVEN LOOK AT ME. Just got out his handy dandy notebook & pen. I was done with it. With antibiotics. With him. The whole thing. Walking into the health food store I was already at...