These wildflowers cover the berm on Dylan and Anika's land in Idaho; they call them 'Grampa Flowers'. They are from seed packets I shared on the day we, his family, buried the ashes of my dad in the deep, dark, cold earth of a New England winter in 2021.

This month we would have celebrated Dad's 95th Birthday. I imagine his birthday might have started with a donut and ended with sharing a cup of hot tea with Mom. He would be in his recliner; content, happy to have received visits and calls from loved ones.

Dad had dark eyes, brownish-black with thin eyelashes. The hair on his head was thick and wavy, touching his collar. He carried half a comb in his wallet. In this wallet, which was kept closed by an elastic band, there was a toothpick and photographs of us. There were a couple of credit cards. Not much cash. Though Dad was sometimes thought to be frugal with paper money, he was generous with his care, concern, and love for us.
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Beauty remains a powerful way to hold grief.
xo

July: The month I was born.

A month of long days.
The month of hometown parades.
And corn on the cob.
Shooting stars. Sparklers. Swimming holes. 
Sunshine. Sipping. Days slipping past.

Hold LOVE to it all. xo

Behind the gauze curtain
twenty-four dark-skinned beauties
stepped to the right and forward,
red dots centered above the eyes
of the women who looked at me and smiled:

My insides turned to the wind,
to the hopes of being recognized
for who we each are:

Crooked teeth or wobbly knees:
Each of us sharing a time and place.

I bowed and turned towards the light. 

xo

With all that's going on in the US of A and the world it's been a time of holding on for dear life. 
It's what we can do. This...and remembering to connect with community and loved ones. 
It's difficult to hold so much loss and confusion while balancing against even a blue sky,
yet the vastness offers itself, and in these peaceful moments, it's good to know that 
love is King. And Queen. And all the kings' horses and birds and more. Love is THE way! xo

Song makers settled on the blackberry canes
between thorns and sunshine, precious was
the word that came to mind and heart and
as they opened their shiny beaks, I felt the 
song between my bruised ribs, all week 'the
cough' hung to my chest wall, crushed my 
breath and still I sang along with the birds, 
and survived to witness the simple beauty
and joy of it all. And who am I for this?  xo
​

 January 2026

And just like that...a turn of
of the page, a turn of the head.
Here's to seeing the beauty in
the smallest moments, in the simple things
 in front of our eyes, and the loved ones
we may or may not be in touch with:
yet the ones who we share memories
and love with. May we hold one another
in peace and LOVE. xo

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It's sometimes difficult to feel how time moves on. Gramma Annie used to say it meant you were healthy and happy. When you weren't feeling well or were in a lonely spell, time seemed to slow down. I'll take healthy and ease, joy and wonder over angst any day. But the magic trick is to pass goodness on to others. There are so many folks living on the streets or in their cars. The woman who lives on the sidewalk near our house sometimes rants in a husky, wild voice, but mostly she seems to sleep. I've gifted her woolen socks and hot French Fries, but these are so very insignificant. She has eyes almost the same color as mine. She was once somebody's child, perhaps a sister, or a mother. 
She was once a miracle, and I imagine she still is. xo
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