by lori | Aug 17, 2016 | Aging Gratefully, Artists, Beauty, Content, Gratitude, Grief, Love, Poetry
Warm sun pools and shines more brightly in your home Why is that? worn beckoning rugs and life-soft chairs a sentinel portrait rich green and red dirt-colored artifacts nestled within white walls of recent pain. Witness dancing dust across sunbeams upstairs, the bird... by lori | Jan 14, 2016 | Aging Gratefully, Alzheimer's, Here and now, Poetry, Respite
I move in the world a changed being now being now today the yellow grass in the field up the hill is bowing to the rain the sea and the land and the sky cede their colors into fog becoming one passing waxwings eat red berries off the vine, laugh at the cat through the... by lori | May 28, 2015 | Aging Gratefully, Alzheimer's, Beauty, Care Partnering, Content, Neighbors, Poetry
I was telling my neighbor how much I appreciate the multigenerational knowledge and friendship in our new (to us) neighborhood: a rare gift—at least in my world— people holding a 6-generation understanding of a place. He said he appreciated it too and also loves that... by lori | Apr 27, 2015 | Aging Gratefully, Alzheimer's, Care Partnering, Here and now, Love, Poetry, Women
I love Alzheimer’s when mom looks into my eyes says “My baby girl. I love you.” twinkles hugs me close she lifts the world to my lips pours gratitude through me inconsequential then that names are dead past is gone old us drowned we float happy here no longer up... by lori | Jan 21, 2015 | Aging Gratefully, Alzheimer's, Caregiving, Epic tales, Love, Poetry, Women
1. The Question Why do you feel the need to make the rift in our family all about your mom’s disease? You know too well that’s not the case at all. damn good question thanks for asking 2. The Life Raft for 35 years I experienced our family as 98% love 2%... by lori | Jul 24, 2014 | Aging Gratefully, Here and now, Poetry
so many empty plates dishes piled high corks found in corners furniture askew memory too what did I do? beside stained counters trash overflows its cans and there’s pure audacity in that recycle bin what will the neighbors think? candles broke their dams...