• Believing - dogs - grief

    It’s Good to Have A Dog

    Because we can’t get delivery here in Montana, I get the Sunday New York Times a week late. It usually comes on Thursday or Friday and I save it so I have a Times to read on Sunday morning. This is what two years of one’s youth spent in Manhattan will get you — a lifetime addiction to a big fat Sunday paper. So Sunday I was reading the Style section and there, in the Weddings, was my cousin George on his father’s vintage motorcycle with Jen, who is now his wife. It’s a really cute picture and I tossed…

  • Believing - grief

    Saturdays are Hard

    Saturdays are hard. Eight Saturdays ago, Patrick didn’t show up to walk dogs … I called and couldn’t get him at his house, which was odd, but odder still was that I couldn’t get him on his cell. He always answered his cell. When I’d left him at the Bar and Grill, he’d been chatting with a woman, so I thought who knows? maybe he got lucky? Last thing he needs is his panicky sister tracking him down. But I was annoyed. After waiting until well after nine, which is weekend dog-walking time, I loaded the dogs in the car…

  • Believing - grief

    Adventures in Bereavement

    LA was wonderful. My friends Matt and Paige were the perfect, loving hosts: Paige treating my head cold with copious amounts of essential oils, Matt the same old Matt I’ve loved since we lived down the hall from one another our first year at Beloit College. We hung out with the dogs, read some scripts (Matt’s a movie producer), had dinner with other Beloit friends, and mostly just relaxed. On Saturday afternoon, we went downtown to Aroma, a spa in Koreatown, where I was scrubbed with a thoroughness that I probably haven’t experienced since I was a very small child.…

  • Believing - faith - grief

    Johnny Cash is my Lifeboat

    I’ve been sitting again. One of the many reasons to sit is to try to wade one’s way to the far side of the grove of trees where live the chattering monkeys that inhabit our minds, all those monkey-voices chittering at us, particularly in times of great stress and grief. I’ve been turning the Three Refuges over in my noisy head like river stones. I take refuge in the Buddha. I take refuge in the Dharma. I take refuge in the Sangha (see below). Twenty minutes a morning, on my little pillow, the Buddha, a Virgin of Guadalupe candle, a…

  • Believing - faith - grief - small town life

    Just Be Clear

    When I was thinking about moving here, almost two years ago, I called my cousin Elizabeth for advice. This house, the one I bought, was on the market and they’d dropped the price into the range I was looking for. Problem was, it was April, and I couldn’t afford to move until our lease was up in August. I couldn’t afford house payments and my half of the rent. Now, Elizabeth was a realtor for many years, which is one reason I called her, but she also practices Jin Shin Jyitsu, and has become, over the years, a pretty spiritually…

  • Believing - grief

    Think Good Thoughts For Me

    It’s been a tough week — closing Patrick’s bank accounts and opening the “estate” account was really difficult. The bank lady had opened his accounts just a few months ago and had been one of his first boosters for his new business — and she came to the funeral which I didn’t remember until I was sitting in that chair with my death certificate and power-of-attorney. It wasn’t good. It was like his friend Jon Newcomber, the big fireman who drove two days from California with five other guys who worked Patrick’s fire crews when he ran Sears Point raceway.…

  • Believing - gardening - grief

    Gardening: A Saving Grace

    Today was a good day. Today was sunny, clear, warm. Today I pulled dead plants out of the front garden and put in the yellow rose bush that Yena sent over. It’s right off the front porch where Patrick and I drank coffee in the mornings, had gin-and-tonics in the evening. The tag says it will bloom continuously, which will be nice — he loved yellow roses. I also pruned back the perennials in the back, including the mondarda that grew a wonderful four feet tall this summer and planted the iris transplants that Andrea left on my front porch…

  • Believing - domestic life - grief

    New car

    I bought a new car. My old car was originally Patrick’s. He bought it in a fit of uncharacteristic fiscal responsibility — a 1998 Honda Accord. I was still living in Salt Lake, finishing my PhD. Patrick called me up and said he was thinking of selling his big Ford 150 4-wheel drive truck and buying a car. For anyone in a similar situation, services offering cash for cars in Bondi Beach make it easy to sell an old vehicle quickly and profitably. Many dealerships offering used cars in phoenix provide certified pre-owned options. These vehicles go through rigorous inspections…

  • Believing - food - grief

    Roasting a Chicken

    Last night I roasted a chicken while watching the Cubs break our collective hearts again. Those of you who have been reading for a while may know that my feelings about the magical restorative qualities of a roasted chicken run right up there with the ability of cake to cheer people up. My faith may waver in many things, but never in the power of a roasting chicken to bring a house back to life. So I ate a little chicken, with some rice and beet greens from last summer’s garden. There are many good things about a roast chicken,…

  • Believing - faith - grief

    Sitting, Just Sitting

    First off, thanks to all of you out there who have sent good energy my way these past difficult days. It really does make a difference, and has kept me out of what I think of as “Lear’s heath” — that terrible place where you feel absolutely alone out on the howling wastelands. Patrick and I were a team, and we survived some pretty difficult situations together, so to have to get through this one without him is really new territory for me. And I’m enormously grateful to discover that I am not, as I had feared, alone. For years…