Grief is a sacred journey

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Love Notes: The Magic That Made Our Marriage Work

260 During an exhausting week of moving my husband Vic’s 102-year-old mother to a nursing home, I searched through an old file cabinet looking for a paper needed to fill out her insurance forms. I hadn’t visited

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The Estrogen Empire Strikes Back: Seneca Falls Women’s March, 1/20/18

127 1 We drove along the west side of Cayuga Lake toward Seneca Falls, NY, the site of the Women’s Rights National Historical Park where the first Women’s Rights Convention met in 1848. One year ago, Jane

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The Wisdom of Regret: A Lesson in Showing Up

96 I remember the tense discomfort of my flimsy excuse, but don’t recall just what it was. I remember the relief of avoiding being face-to-face with a dying person. In 1991, I hadn’t learned to sit with

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Ten Things That Made Me Grateful This Year (Photo Essay)

47   1. My Loving Family 2. The Women’s March in Washington, DC, January 2017                   3. Bluebirds with Five Healthy Nestlings              

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A Time To Push, A Time to Pause

86 2 My ability to push against fatigue and check new projects off the endless to-do list ran away from home. I’ve looked for her everywhere. Believe me. I have. The Muse refuses to answer my calls.

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Lessons from Artemis, Goddess of the Wild

165 4 I was once an extroverted girl who loved loud Motown concerts and learned every dance on American Bandstand. I liked singing, acting, and jiving with friends, my husband, and our sons. I loved concerts, opera,

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Sorrow in the Dark Season

82 On mid November days, loneliness and hopelessness descend like evening fog. Is it the darkness, the limited light and long nights? Maybe, but my inner gloom lifts in December. When I first explored these feelings in

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9 Ways to Unpack a Powerful Dream

129 4 In my dream, my house is filled with noisy demanding people. Six orangutans lie in the middle of the wood floor. One lies on her back, wet and gooey as though she’s just given birth.

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When Heartbreak Becomes A Second Chance

226 I didn’t want a second chance. I liked my first option, the married life I’d worked on and loved for forty years. My husband Vic and I called our relationship “the Path of Marriage.” In 1967,

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Mothering Monarchs, Mothering My Soul

180 1   I carry the glass jar outside to a shady patch of white asters. The earth smells musty and moist in rising heat. Too hot for late September, plus a south wind when the butterfly

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