I’m home again, from my most recent Florida trip. The garden is starting to bloom. The pineapple sage has, improbably, migrated six feet to the side and into an entirely different bed. The lavender did not survive the winter. The…
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Over the last few months, I’ve put out a couple of blog posts about the process of my mom slowly dying. She’s been fighting lung cancer, and last year it metastasized to her brain. The docs gave her until about…
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The sky is a crisp blue against the array of earth-toned leaves still hanging on to their perches. Squirrels dig, industrious, through the crackling fallen, searching out nuts, insects, whatever it is that squirrels search for at times like this….
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My mom always had a garden, everywhere we lived. That’s the first line of a eulogy I’ve already begun writing for her. Here’s one of my notes, jotted down during a doctor appointment this time: …the clinical staff seem really…
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