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Sunday, November 09, 2014

Emerging



I spent yesterday afternoon working in the flower beds. Mid-dig, as I prepared to insert the umpteenth pansy plug, I tried to remember the last time I had planted flowers in our front beds. I decided it must have been when Alex was about a year old--over 7 years ago.


Wednesday, November 05, 2014

These Days


I spent two years planning and working and studying and dreaming of a life less hectic. I worked too much--all the time, really.

How luxurious it is to end the work day with a bit of attention left to share.

Monday, September 09, 2013

Lessons


Work hard, but only at the things you love.
Stand up for what you believe in. It will upset people, and that is OK.
Don't be dishonest, but play your cards close.


I learned these lessons later in life than I should have. But had it not been for one of my best friends and most valuable mentors, I may have lived the rest of my years continuing to believe that I always had to be the best, that everyone had to like me, and that image was everything. Thank goodness for Bud, who helped me see the light.

Not completely unrelated: He also taught me the secrets to a healthy tomato crop. 


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On a sunny afternoon in September, I sat on the overstuffed armchair in my mother's living room and wrote work reports. Every few minutes or so, I'd take a break and walk down the hall to the master bedroom. I sat in a recliner in the corner and my mom sat next to my stepdad, holding his hand.
"Your skin has gotten so smooth," she told him.
 "It's because he hasn't been in the sun," I answered.
We sat. We talked. She cried. We counted the seconds, then minutes, between his breaths.
I went back to the living room to check emails on the drip-slow internet connection.

It was over a year before I realized--later than my coworkers had, I'm told--that the reports I sent to them the following week bore the date of my stepfather's death.