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Month: September 2016

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September 2016

Part 1: A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with….a Plan

September 29, 2016 /
During days of hiking in the wilderness with her son, Susan made discoveries about her child, herself, and the challenges of any great journey. She reflects on her lessons in this three part series. It began with a conversation near Christmas. When my children are home for the holidays, this coach mom loves to talk about the year ahead. My son Jack hoped to do more hiking.  Both being achievers who like a challenge, Jack and I quickly went from idea to action plan for an autumn hike on the John Muir Trail in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Traversing into
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September Sorrow

September 15, 2016 /
I refolded my mascara smeared and soaked handkerchief. The melodic poetry. The organ music. The stories of love. The funeral of my friend was beautiful. From weddings to funerals, sacred rituals bind us to our past. They remind us of our connectedness, of our shared joys and the shared heartbreak that no human escapes. Weddings remind me of weddings gone by— those I’ve attended, those I’ve officiated, and the two that were mine. But sitting in the packed pew on this Saturday, it was a funeral that opened my heart and carried it into my memory bank. The life of
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Bitter and Sweet: A Tribute to my Sophia

September 8, 2016 /
She arrived at 2:55 p.m. on September 7th ten full years ago.  She charged into this world amid a flurry of frantic activity as my labor suddenly went into overdrive and I dilated from 7 to 10 centimeters in mere minutes.  3 pushes later she took her first breath:  My Sophia Grace. Oh how bittersweet this birthday is marking the completion of a decade spent dancing through the days with this daughter of mine.  From being the toddler who regularly pulled at my ear lobes for comfort in what we deemed Sophia’s ear tugs to now having long enough legs
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Former Family Feelings

September 1, 2016 /
I approached my former husband amidst the room of the grieving. Momentarily disoriented by his polite reach to shake my hand, I leaned forward with an insistent and brief but sincere hug. “My dad always really liked you,” he said, forcing that smile I remember from our married years when he tried to look on the sunny side of sad situations. “And I always really liked him,” I said, looking away and choking back the tears. My former father-in-law was a good man. I remember him quietly giving a “be nice” reminder when squabbling between me the lawyer and my
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