Last night I drove up to the airport on the darkest, shortest day of the year, in the rains that have persisted, to retrieve our daughter for the Christmas holidays. Luckily, traffic was light and we came home to a warm house filled with her brothers and her sister and her niece and nephew and lots of hugs and laughter and good food and singing. Happy Birthday. Jingle Bells. And some song the boys learned at camp about not washing black socks. (What???) And sitting the

I awoke this morning to the sound of the rain and winds returning. Washington and much of the PNW has been in an atmospheric river weather pattern, which is an apt descriptor for what it looks like outside. We’d had a break over the weekend, but we knew this was coming. My prayers are with everyone in danger of flooding and landslides and with those already impacted. Last week I attended a grief group. (Birdwalk: Gloria Dei has an amazing Grief Group, but this is not th

It’s true, what they say about Christmas being for children. At least in part that’s true. I just returned from spending the weekend with my sweet grand babies so their parents could take some time away. We baked Christmas cookies with lots of sprinkles and watched a Christmas cartoon and marveled at their beautiful tree - there in all of its glory, behind a gate they’ve constructed to keep the very adventurous almost one year old from pulling it over. The two and a half year

Last Friday my Inboxes all contained the same message: You Did It. What I had done was make it through my first Thanksgiving since Bruce died. And, I obviously did. In some respects, the anticipation of the day was harder than the day itself, which was filled with the gift of family and food. Babies have a way of being an excellent distraction. Mine (my grandchildren) are two and a half years old and ten months old. And are they ever fun! Their parents hit the easy ba

I’m taking some time off this week, ostensibly to prep the foods without which our family cannot acknowledge or celebrate a holiday (deviled eggs, strawberry pretzel “salad”, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, and pecan pie). I also thought I might unpack some boxes and continue to find homes for things. And address holiday cards so they can arrive in your mailboxes with my new address on them. But when I was writing yesterday’s post I noted that I dislike the word “widow” and th

It’s Thanksgiving week so Hello There, to another of the terrible “firsts”. More about that maybe even later this week. I went to dinner last night with two parishioners who are also widows. (Birdwalk: I don’t like the way that word actually sounds. Where did it come from? Am I resistant to it because of what it means? Word study coming with coffee later today). Anyway. One of these women is about to experience her wedding anniversary this week and so we toasted to t

The move to a new home is mostly complete. A few things remain in our former home, but for all practical purposes, I’ve relocated to a cozy space just a couple of miles from the home Bruce and I shared. Home, as I’ve noted before, is as much a feeling as it is a place. Of course, this means that the home I had in Bruce is also gone. And while that is true of a physical space that we shared together, it is true in a much deeper way. In each other: in each other’s presenc

Last night my daughter made the observation that there seems to be grief everywhere we turn. And that feels true. Hardly a day passes that I don’t meet, either in real life or online, someone new to me who is living with grief. Who is lamenting a loss. Who is mourning. There’s an explanation for this, in science, of course. It’s called the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon or, the frequency illusion. This cognitive bias occurs when you encounter something new, like the loss of

Yesterday the Church observed All Saints Sunday. This is the day when many congregations say the names of those who have died in the previous year and ring a bell and light candles and it has always, always, always been one of the most meaningful of liturgies to me. And we sing. We sing For All the Saints and maybe When the Saints Go Marching In and I Sing A Song of the Saints of God (really, ELCA, how did we leave this gem out of our hymnal?) The Gospel reading this year

I’m taking some time away from work this week, in part because as the end of the calendar year is in sight, I have some unused vacation time I must either “use or lose”. And in part because I’m tired, or as the Germans would say Ich bin müde. And, reluctantly, I need to shift into full on relocation mode soon. When Bruce and I first moved to Olympia, we weren’t sure about neighborhoods and homes. We searched the Zillow listings for both Homes for Sale and Homes for Rent.

Ah, technology, social media, and those small computers we carry in our pockets all day. They all let us keep up with each other and life in ways we might not have imagined even a decade or so ago. On Friday morning I spent an hour chatting with our dear cousin, Sally, who is in…..Ireland. The use of a free app meant we could leisurely talk about laundry and life as well as worry about the state of this nation and the world as well as remember things about Bruce together.

Did you ever have possession of something that, by all rights, belonged to someone else? A friend of mine tells the story of her free-spirited, “hippie” aunt, who was disowned by their conservative, stuffy larger family. When my friend’s grandmother died, it was this singular aunt who did not receive anything from their childhood home, which was full of memories, and held nothing of any monetary value. A couple of decades passed and my friend’s mother died, leaving her to

Today and tomorrow the weather will inch us into the seventies to remind us one last time of summer’s beauty, especially here in the...

Earlier this year I was introduced to the idea of taking a three day retreat in every season. The person suggesting it noted that it is...

The autumnal equinox has arrived. I’ve long said that this is my favorite season – the changing of the leaves and the cooler...

The Pacific Northwest is in that season that Bruce used to describe as “the curtain is closing”. What he meant was that the light was...

It was a few weeks after Bruce died, maybe more than a few, that I thought to wonder about the last image Bruce took. He’d asked for...

Yesterday marked three months since Bruce died. Writing that here makes it no easier to believe. In some respects, it seems as though...

In four months it will be Christmas Day. In a few days it will be three months since Bruce died. Time has taken on an almost slippery...

I’ve written so much about Bruce’s death and my grief. But Bruce lived a big life. And he would have been the last person to tell you...