Hurricanes and gentle breezes

My eldest son blew through me like a hurricane for nine long months, intent on getting to his final destination—which was, namely, anywhere outside of my body. Not one to be easily confined, he clued me in early to his preferences. Sick for roughly eight of those nine months, I wondered what had overcome me….

A barn burner

We absorb what our parents show us, deep in our cells, unknowingly. Even as we fight, as teens, to be anything but them, their love seeps into our bones—the very marrow–changing us. Some of those changes appear as is, others are stored for future us, tempered in our cells with time. It must be hard…

Oh Happy Day

Don’t tell me the Universe doesn’t have a sense of humor. Today proves otherwise. My son and I were driving to the city today to a gospel brunch. I was feeling the need for some hand-clappin’, soul-soothin’, old-ladies-in-hats kind of music. Something that unites, not divides, in a week where our president spewed more ugly…

Racking up the rosaries

I grew up with women of the rosary. Think the Catholic church’s equivalent of Hell’s Angels. But more lace than leather, an Irish fisherman’s sweater and comfortable shoes. My friends’ mothers and grandmothers—mainly of the Irish persuasion—stockpiled an unbelievable number of rosaries in their “delicates” drawers back in the day. From jade to crystal, pearl…

A much needed conversation

“Speak to me, God,” I said, while driving through the countryside. I was on my way to a friend’s lake house, in search of the space that used to exist between my shoulders and my ears. I spoke my request and then fell silent. Almost instantaneously, the sweetgrass smell of farms and meadows, the heady…

Leave sacred to God

One died. One lived. Both were gay. Before you click away, this is not a post meant to change your views on homosexuality. I’m always amazed when people write in the hopes that someone’s religious or political beliefs will be swayed in one fell swoop, with a few keystrokes. No, I’m not that arrogant. This…

Stop. Think. Repeat.

I’m in a pause. And no, not THAT pause with a capital M. Not even close. I’m midstream in a sacred pause. When something seemingly larger than life happens, our first instinct is always to run. To flee. To get busy. And that usually works wonderfully well for a short time. To those of us…