In December, I attended an art show of a new friend*. His lakeside gallery was filled with beautiful watercolors, silk banners, stone lithographs and more. In a small sun-filled corner was his […]
The morning started with me picking up my father’s ashes. By the evening I am miles away standing and watching a storm brew over the ocean.
33, 34, 35, 36…
It is my thirty-third day walking through these doors at the nursing home. The weather is quite warm and I’m desperate for cool, but there is little relief inside.