“I have a strict rule. No one is allowed to die on my watch,” a quiet assured voice in the vicinity of my right ear said. “I have to lower your pain level slower than you’ll like to keep my promise.” I have no idea if I nodded, but she thumbed a tear off my cheek. Weeks before, I had blitzed right past “It’ll be a little rough coming out of surgery,” to the six week recovery period, and the day I could get back on my beloved SUP (standup paddle) board. My husband and I flew to San Francisco and threw a party. I almost managed to forget I would return home to surgery, but here I … [Read more...]
Sisterhood – And The Epic Wardrobe Fail
5:05 and I was right on schedule. In a private room two floors above our gathering place, shoes, jewelry, my gown freshly steamed and beautiful, I began dressing. I would need help with the zipper. A cadre of women would come up, get me zipped, and we would return to mingle with well over a hundred guests in advance of the Pre-Valentine’s Musical Soirée – our 12th, always the Saturday before Valentine’s Day. I stepped into the gown and turned for assistance. Two confidently got to work. One held the top of the gown’s bustier the other pulled the zipper. It stuck. They wriggled … [Read more...]
I Came of Age in a Sh*thole Country
Ethiopia remains the home of my heart. My starry-eyed awkward little self quietly absorbed Africa. Heartbreakingly beautiful, it snatched my heart, and saved my soul. My love affair with African sh*thole countries began when, as a missionary family we trekked Ethiopia’s rugged terrain by mule train, looking for plateaus of indigenous people in need of medicine and education. Our first outpost was nine days by mule to the nearest road during the Monsoon season – Land Rovers couldn’t ford the swollen rivers – and half a day further on by auto to Addis Ababa. We steeped ourselves in Ethiopian … [Read more...]
First Christmas in Africa
We pored over the Sears Roebuck Catalogue, my sisters and I. It was our first Christmas in Africa. We’d traveled halfway around the world on a British passenger liner. Aboard that massive ship were all our worldly belongings. With a strict budget, four months in advance of Christmas, we each had a turn at the catalogue. As we made our selections, Mom carefully entered them on the order form. This was top-secret business! In 1960 we used aerograms or reel-to-reel audio tapes to communicate with family – and in emergencies or for super special occasions, telegrams. Soon we would live nine … [Read more...]
Two Kinds of Truth
The Sequel to “The Tipping Point of Sorrow” I was there. It was a windy, clear night. I sat on the bed and brushed tear dampened hair from Michelle’s face and tucked it behind her ear. I had just overheard that our father had gotten my fifteen-year-old sister pregnant. “I envy her dark wavy hair,” I thought contemplatively as I lifted strands away from her neck needing to touch her, offer her comfort. I ached for this grief-ridden girl/child, with a profoundness that closed my throat. Michelle was twelve when she came into my life. She was the oldest of six siblings the state took away … [Read more...]
The Tipping Point of Sorrow
My sister Carly called in the calm of autumn’s evening light a few weeks ago. She was driving through smoke-filled air on her way home from work. It’s been a brutal year for fires, with British Columbia burns topping three million acres, Montana over one million, then Northern California’s fires devastated densely populated areas. “What month and year was Michelle’s baby born? And do we know gender?” I’m used to these out of the blue questions and get right to answering. Hellos will come later – often with a laugh – “oh – sorry – hi” inserted along the way. “Let’s see. I’ll need to think … [Read more...]
The Paradox of Safety
Last night, as daylight gave way to dusk and the river quieted, I had an out-of-nowhere moment so profound I wept: one moment absorbing twilight, the next in tears. And though this will surprise many of you who know my family’s history, I desperately missed my father. Dad was crazy smart. Genius IQ. He was a mesmerizing storyteller. A lift you up and away speaker. He adored discourse that challenged. I loved engaging those dialogues, for it was one arena where we could tackle matters of intelligence and not devolve into emotionalism. These lively discussions linger as some of my very best … [Read more...]
9 Life Lessons Learned While Paddleboarding
Each morning before dawn, or maybe at dawn, if my internal clock didn’t get me up, I make a cup of coffee as I prepare for my morning paddle. There is ritual to it. Sunscreen, whistle, hat, sunglasses, carry paddle and board to, and then into, the river. And that predawn river? Utter glass. The other morning I was awakened by my two grandsons. The older one touched my shoulder and said, “Nonna, look! The water’s glass. We’ve got to go get on it.” We did. He’s nine, the glass whisperer, so … here are 9 life lessons I’ve learned on my Stand Up Paddle Board, otherwise known as … [Read more...]
Mother’s Day Without Mom
Mother’s Day is a sweet day for me. I am well celebrated by my children and husband. I reside in the gentle beauty of my greatest role on earth – mother to my son and daughter. It remains the finest work I have ever done. It is bittersweet for some. I’ve seen Facebook posts honoring moms, posts honoring moms who are no longer with us, those honoring stepmoms, and women who took on the role of mom. Then, there is what isn’t said, which speaks volumes. There are moms we could not celebrate today. There are those for whom the wounds are fresh, and those of us who have lived with loss and … [Read more...]
The Parable of The Pack
High on an Ethiopian plateau nestled the village of Kiramu. My home. Governed by a chieftain, this small thatch hut community hosted a Saturday market, had a flourmill, a weaver, and my best friend. Ethiopia raised me. Her culture taught me joy, family, the respect of the elderly, the richness of history, and offered safety. It was to these people I fled when being harmed at home. It is my African tribe I credit for stability as I sought to navigate my American tribe. Villages exist within a culture and tribe. There are customs inherent within them. My American village was a conservative … [Read more...]
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