Death

The Robes of Friendship

Yes, Edward Parone owned some celebrity and great respect from many in the world of entertainment — something I never knew until much later in our friendship. But he retired from all of that. His choice of retirement venue said it all — an unremarkable old adobe casita among a few other old adobes on a large ranch in Nambe, New Mexico.

Fulfilled Dreams and Loss–A Fifty Year Memory

A landmark birthday nears and I’m not as ambivalent as  with other landmark birthdays: 40, 50, and 60.  Reflection is like a mirror that won’t break and leave my presence. Some memories delight me and others can bring the flow of tears. I see the young faces of those who died in their youth.  They remain young forever.  No gray hair.  No limps.  No lumps. Bright eyes. Smooth skin. Abundant dreams–albeit unfulfilled. When a mirror captures me, I spin away so as []

If I Were Gay, Would I Be Equal To Others?

I’ve been thinking about being gay. I’ve been thinking about what if the absolute love of my life was a woman. I’ve been thinking about gay/lesbian couples I know that honor each other and their children. Then I thought about how same-sex life-partners share the same care, anger, drama, joy, and tragedy that Mr. and Mrs. Bob and Mary Doe share. This is not my outing. I am straight, but what if I was lesbian and my partner was Jane not Clif? []

Rachel Carson’s Relevancy Fifty Years Later

I read Silent Spring in 1968. It changed my view of the natural world and was more than incidental in my personal growth.  Carson’s plea for moderation and close observance to what and how we walk upon this earth speaks louder today than it did 50 years ago.  Her opponents live on and rally against anything that smirks of environmentalism.  To my point of view their arguments remain shallow and manipulated.

Remodeling Dysfunction’s Murderous Stink

I grew up in dysfunction. I smell dysfunction’s stink in an instant. As an adult, some of the dysfunction from my childhood stuck. Several tragedies later, I recognized my behavior and how my behavior hurt others. My stinky self begged for a remodel. (It remains a work in progress.)

Behind a Murdered Man

I wasn’t shocked when a sheriff pulled into my driveway Sunday afternoon—a magnificent Sunday afternoon colored with a blue that only the Pacific Ocean can conjure underneath a cloudless sky. We just returned from an ocean bluffs walk where we showed off our beautiful and peaceful village to a LA visitor who arrived in the wee hours of the morning with our daughter and her boyfriend.  Pelicans soared overhead and we raced to get the best photo.  I kept my eye out []

An Anniversary Card To Spouse

Serendipity introduced me to my first husband at age 17.  A week after our meeting he promised that we would marry some day.  I laughed out loud.  At age 27 I was his widow with two children. I lacked a life-plan.  And on that late summer day when my children’s father unexpectedly died, helter-skelter reintroduced itself. I involuntarily joined the Hapless Young Widows Club (HYWC).  HYWC isn’t a chartered nonprofit organization.  But HYWC does chart a rugged path of misjudgment and denial, and []