This is my seventh Mother’s Day without her.
And I miss her more each year, as my children grow and have kids of their own. Whereas once I needed mothering help, now I need advice on grandmothering.
Today K asked me to talk about her, as we drove along winding roads in the Santa Monica Mountains. I said she was petite and gentle, loving and cuddly. That she once had red hair. That she taught me to sew and spin and embroider and garden. He wanted more stories, but I don’t think the few anecdotes I shared gave him a good picture of my sweet mother.
All I know is, she is a huge part of who I am.
Miss you, mama. So, so much.
Posted by suchwildlove on May 12, 2013
So much beauty. So much fun. So many cool places to return to. So many side roads yet to explore.
I fell in love with the planet all over again. And with the company.
Posted by suchwildlove on May 1, 2013
Me + guy + dog are going camping this weekend! We’re off to Death Valley, with loose plans to check out some of the many ghost towns in the vicinity. And cook delicious meals over open fires. And sing a lot of songs.
I can’t wait.
[My close friends (I'm looking at you, Lola & sister) will recognize my scrappy picnic blanket, now getting pretty bedraggled, but still much-loved.]
Posted by suchwildlove on April 24, 2013
Her nickname was Lolli, and she was a juicy sweet woman who dressed inappropriately for this community college language class. She was maybe in her early 30s, and I learned one day that her third marriage was ending.
“Well,” I primly assumed, “I guess you won’t be going there again.”
She looked at me guilelessly, her freckled face open. “Why not?” she asked. “If there’s love, why not? Why would I close myself off to love?”
I don’t think that marrying everyone you love is a wise idea. But the thing I remember the most: she wasn’t mortally wounded. She wasn’t building walls against future intimacy and commitment. She still believed that love was a good thing, even if it only lasted a season or three.
She wasn’t scared.
Lolli, I haven’t thought about you for years, but tonight I raise a glass to you, and the example you give me. I won’t show as much cleavage or belly as you loved to, but in other ways, I’m lowering my defenses.
We are all flawed, and love is a good thing. Mazel tov, my friend.
Posted by suchwildlove on April 22, 2013
With every plant and pot I bring, I feel more invested. Not financially. Emotionally. I’m planting a garden again. It feels so, so good.
Posted by suchwildlove on April 21, 2013
The Boy came over for dinner. It’s been months — maybe a year? — since we have hung out, just the two of us. What an awesome human he is. I am so happy to know, and feed, him.
Posted by suchwildlove on April 9, 2013
We broke the rules, jumped the fence, and went off track to have our picnic perched at the top of a sheer cliff. We had an eagle’s-eye view of the surfers and seals. It was a perfect birthday.
Posted by suchwildlove on April 7, 2013
My gift to myself was a day of domestic solitude. In the evening, he plucked the guitar while I Skyped with family, then surprised me with a restaurant dinner. I feel loved.
Posted by suchwildlove on April 6, 2013
Half an hour spent alone with the sunset, watching the birds fly home one by one. My well is filled.
Posted by suchwildlove on April 4, 2013
Open your mouth only if what you have to say is more beautiful than silence.
– Arabic Proverb
Posted by suchwildlove on February 10, 2013