paintedpinkmountains

I've not been a fan of football for quite some time.  As a child, I remember watching the Steelers play with my grandfather.  The game was always on during Thanksgiving dinner at my grandparents house.  My dad and my uncle would usually fall asleep on the floor, a result of a good, filling meal. I never usually paid much attention to it, but the sounds are imbedded in my memories deeply.  My grandfathers voice responding to a bad play, muffling the sound of the dishes clinking in the sink as my mom and grandmother would clean up. In high school I got into it a little.  The boy I was dating and some of our friends at the time were pretty into it.  I remember a couple we spent time with; one was a serious 49er fan and her boyfriend was a die-hard Cowboys fan.  The year I graduated, the Cowboys defeated the Bills, and I remember watching it at their house, and falling asleep before it was over. I have a photo of me asleep against the edge of the couc...

My mother was in the Neuro ICU for more than a week.  She was not conscious at all for any of it. Or at least not that I felt.  I spent the majority of twelve days with her.  A few of those days I left for a couple hours while my cousin stayed with her.  Two of those nights I went home and slept in my bed, but immediately went back to sleeping by her side the minute I knew my time with her physical presence was limited. I always have at least one knitting project with me.  During the hospital stay I had two or three in my bag, but I probably only worked on a pair of socks for a total of half an hour in all over the course of those twelve days.  Somehow, every single minute that passed, I was unable to focus on anything other than just sitting there, with my mother, holding her hand, being in her presence.  Walking with her as we both navigated the process of her death. I've found it hard to pick up any knitting lately.  I usually do go thro...

"I'm sorry." "I don't know what to say." "There really aren't any words." "It must be really hard." "I can't imagine." "I wish I knew what to say." "What can I do to help?" "I'm here if you need anything." Some people have a hard time with these things, but I don't, so it's totally okay to say them to me. "She's in a better place." "She is no longer suffering." "She is still here with you." "She will always be here with you." She will always be a part of me, for sure. And I also find myself in the same place of not really knowing what to say when others go through this too. It is always okay to hug me. And hug me again. And call me. And text me. A million times. Every day. It's also okay to not say anything. It's totally okay to break down in tears. It's okay to look at me with hurt in your eye...

I am certain that this is something that does happen, as I read it occasionally in the obituaries.  I am also aware that death in and of itself isn't something that usually holds an easily reached peace in most circumstances.  But as I sit here next to my mother, who is on her second day under hospice care and her 11th day fighting death, I realize that I can't remember a time that my family has been afforded the experience of the title of this blog post. My maternal grandfather died at the hospital, of congestive heart failure.  They had just called to tell us he was going to be released to come home.  Granted we knew he wasn't going to live very long, but he wanted to be at home and they were making that happen.  Shortly after hanging up the phone, he died there, alone, without family, in his hospital room. My paternal grandfather died in an ambulance on the way to the hospital after suffering a stroke as he waited outside the grocery store for my grandmot...

From the moment I discovered that my phone has an app that keeps track of the steps I take every day, I've been utilizing it. It's helped me in some ways, but I've also noticed that it hinders and frustrates me in others.  Like all technology, it started out as a love affair with something that I imagine is going to make me more productive and focused and help me attain goals.  But it comes with a cost, creating a constant need to have my phone on my person at every moment for fear of not tracking my progress. I am aware that there are watches out there that you can wear on your wrist which makes having the phone unnecessary, but that's just another piece of technology that I really don't need.  Again, becoming tethered to a "virtual" cloud storing every piece of information about me and my habits is not something that I even want.  Let's just ignore the fact that the watch exists because it's irrelevant as I don't have one, and I won't b...

I have always felt connected to the natural world and have always enjoyed time hiking, swimming, and basking in the beauty of the landscapes around me.  For a few years now I've been spending more time working towards being truly connected to the Earth.  Learning and paying close attention to how I react to the changing of the seasons, the moon in her phases of filling and releasing, and the energies brought by the position of the stars and planets in the sky and their relationships with each other.  I've spent time learning about the placement of it all when I was born and have discovered more that contributes to what makes me tick other than just the mere astrological sun sign I was brought Earthside under. I've learned to trust my own body and soul when it tells me things. My intuition has gotten stronger as I allow myself to become attuned to nature and the life around me that lives and breathes along with me. The ground beneath my feet is alive and provides a ...

There is no end to the amount of wisdom you can find in nature.  Every moment I spend in the company of birds and trees, with my feet on the ground beneath me, is a moment that brings me more wisdom that can not be found in a book or on any website in the cyber world. I have probably spent more time on this trail so far this year than any year in my life.  I don't always go the whole way to the top, and most of the time I take the "less steep" part of the trail that comes around the back of the rock face since it's easier for my dog, but regardless, I feel accomplished every single time.  My body thanks me every single time.  My mind thanks me every single time. Because the reward is in the doing. It's in the getting out there on the trail even when it's 90 degrees outside.  It's pushing myself when it would be just as easy to say "oh it's been a long day, I'll just take a break today and get back out tomorrow." It's getting ou...