healing – Susanna's Golden Ball

Miss

photo of Susanna, April, 2014 April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. from The Waste Land by T.S. Elliot I miss Susanna in the sunshine. I miss her in the rain. I miss her in the snow. I miss her in… Continue reading Miss

Susanna, the Sheep and My iPad

This photo just popped up from my cloud: Susanna, in a red and white gingham dress, was talking to a sheep. Speckled beige wool poked through a wire cage at the Prospect Park Zoo. We had just fed the ducks and chickens. Over and over, we dropped quarters upon quarters into the corn and… Continue reading Susanna, the Sheep and My iPad

I Have Covid-19, Don’t Panic

I have COVID-19. I cannot prove it, I am not eligible for a test, but I am certain beyond a reasonable doubt. I am one of the approximately eighty percent recovering at home with no test. So grateful that this is so. This is the story. I felt it best to share this, as I… Continue reading I Have Covid-19, Don’t Panic

Dreams, and my Mom

My Mom passed a few days ago. There is much to be said about her, I loved her very much. But I am going to write about a dream I had. My Mom’s passing is the end of one story but the beginning of some others. Last week, my Mom lie resting in an… Continue reading Dreams, and my Mom

The Good Things of the World

There are drills, as there now are in every school. We call them “lockdown” but they might also be known as “active shooter” drills. I wonder about the missing pieces in the plan, such as how we cannot put full grown students in wheelchairs into cupboards to hide them. We can not silence students who… Continue reading The Good Things of the World

Dolorous (A Thanksgiving Story)

Yesterday, I looked up antonyms for “grateful”. I thought I must be feeling the exact opposite. “Ungrateful” was the first entry, somehow not fitting. I went down the list and found “dolorous”. Marked by excessive grief and distress. A word which sounds like the traditional name “Dolores” from the Latin, a name meaning “sorrow” which… Continue reading Dolorous (A Thanksgiving Story)

Herbs

Maybe in heaven there are fragrances. If I have a choice, I want to be able to smell the cilantro my Significant Other chops while I am falling asleep sometimes. A lover of toppings and condiments, he likes to eat late at night and meticulously cleans and separates the leaves, then gently taps the knife… Continue reading Herbs

War?

Last night I dreamt that Susanna was here with me, in the kitchen. I consider this part of my kitchen a power vortex. Here, we used to bake and cook together as she stood on a chair. We opened the jars of herbs and spices just to inhale. The magic surpasses the recipes. Supernatural events… Continue reading War?

Magnolias

The Japanese Magnolias, soon to be followed by the Cherry Blossoms, are here. Fleeting, time meaning nothing. When my son was younger he called the white Cherry Blossoms “Popcorn Trees”. Not because they looked like popcorn but because, he ascertained, they were popcorn. He also was certain the Dalmatian we saw at the playground was… Continue reading Magnolias

Want

“Want”. That is the word that explains the pain which has held me back lately, and among other things kept me from opening Word and writing. There are so many complaints and trappings piled on top, but the truth is that I ache from wanting. I want to turn off all of the noise. I… Continue reading Want