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Life is a Journey, Savor it.


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Ode to My Mamacita

It’s hard to believe it was nearly 15 years ago that my mother and I argued over banal shit (oops, sorry mom: banal stuff). We’ve both changed by multiple measures since those days of being co-hormonal and grinching about the laundry, what to have for dinner, each others’ driving skills (or lack thereof, depending upon perspective).

Both of us have experienced tremendous losses of multiple loved ones. Sometimes we’ve shared those losses: uncle/brother, best friends, parent/Opa. Each subsequent loss has left us each more tender to the world but raw towards each other, isolated and hurt in our grieving. More often than not, our mournings have been separate as we glimpse at one another, cautiously offering empathy from afar but never quite comfortable co-habitating in the difficult emotional spaces of tragedy and disease.

The quote may belong to Emerson but it is the parenting philosophy embraced by my mother.

The quote may belong to Emerson but it is the parenting philosophy embraced by my mother.

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THRILL SEEKER

Today is the five year anniversary of the death of someone very special to me.

My Uncle Ronnie was no ordinary Uncle–nor ordinary man for that matter.

He was a wild child, an outdoorsman, a fiercely independent thinker, a fiercely loyal and caring friend. In his own unique lexicon he as a “THRILL SEEKER”–always in capital letters, always a complete phrase.

Ronnie's bike was a yamaha, but you get the idea...

Ronnie’s bike was a yamaha, but you get the idea…

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