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Thankful for breath, death and pie.

I give thanks every day for my kids.  For my life.  For all I have. Today, Thanksgiving, I give thanks to the great grandfather I never met.  The "ne'er do well" that was responsible for his wife's death.  Who neglected his children and did nothing to change the outcomes of his circumstance. Thank you. Maybe it is because you forced a ten year old's hand in her mother's abortion, resulting in her death, is the reason I am a fierce advocate for the pro-choice movement. It could be, years later in her adulthood, when you came calling her (for money? for forgiveness? for...) created circumstances resulting in my b.s. detector. When you passed on your legacy to your son, who also took zero responsibility for his circumstances... is this why I hold people in my life accountable?  Why integrity is so very important to me?  Why the constant victim has no place in my life? I'm grateful for you.  While I will never fully understand your own pain and suf
Recent posts

Let's talk about death, baby...

Betsa-rella cut it up one time... (Ooooss Oks...) Let's talk about death baby, let's talk about you and me. Let's talk about all the beauty and the trauma. That may be. Let's talk about death. Let's talk about death. Where are my 90s kids?  Salt-n-Pepa has honestly been my one true musical companion since I was old enough to play my own cassettes.  I was driving down the road the other day and this song popped into my head.  We don't talk about death as a culture.  It is a part of the human condition, but we don't talk about.  It is hard to be there for someone in their time of grief. I recall as a kid a classmate lost his grandfather.  I was at the store with my mother and I picked out a condolence card.  How monotone the messages were.  I'm sorry for your loss.  May you find peace.  May the memories comfort you.  I picked one, and months later when I was picking up my room, I found it.  I had second-guessed myself and my ability to be there

Peace and Road Rage

In this great state of Maine, unless you live in Portland and Lewiston surrounding areas, you need a car to get around.  We are all living here because for whatever our personal reasons, we like (for the most part) the peace and tranquility that is offered. That is funny.  Accidents are three times more likely to happen on a suburban street than on the highway, according to a study last year by the National Transportation Safety Board. I have never been as afraid for my safety in the years I lived in New York City and Boston.  You are more likely to be hit by a car walking your kid down the street to the bus stop.  This is why I refuse to let my anger diffuse.  I will not wait until a child I know becomes a casualty, and it is sure as hell not going to be my kid.  I'm trying this new thing out where before I assume you are a jerk, I'm going to try to reason with you.  I'm sure you have a reason to be riding my car's bumper when I'm driving 40 in a 35 mil

Mindful Grief - Finding Your Inner Song

What is mindfulness? To me, mindfulness is being present in the moment.  Whatever activity at the time is worthy of our attention.  That means tasks, human to human interaction, and how we go about our existence.  Whatever it is that has your attention grows, so how can we nurture our lives to be their best? How can we approach daily mindfulness in a time of grieving?  There is something to be said about this trending approach to every facet of our existence.  It is the perfect example of how something can grow with our intention. Every chance we have to learn a new approach to living our best life is a great moment, and that includes a growing consciousness of grief and growth.  We are connected and can bring this into our daily lives. It is being authentic and allowing yourself to feel the darkness.  The angry, the sad, the hopeless.  I allow myself to feel angry when I witness a miserable old cow.  I let the thought cross my mind- many people don't have the ability to reach