by lori | Jun 17, 2016 | Feelings, Grief, Here and now, Love, Nature, Neighbors, Poetry
I found a perfect dead bird on the deck, outside the window victim of violence a deceptive white light through too-big windows his perfectly groomed feathers grew darker as they moved from his pale yellow-gray head to his almost black tail I spent yesterday willing... by lori | Nov 30, 2015 | Alzheimer's, Care Partnering, Caregiving, Grief, Here and now, Love, Poetry
This is the week Mom can no longer recall her own last name our last name This is the week Mom can no longer answer simple verbal questions such as “Do you want a blanket?” without accompanying gestures and visuals This is the week Mom can no longer follow... by lori | Jan 3, 2013 | Love, Poetry
We sleep on the floor in the living room with you When you can no longer use The stairs up to bed We hold your head and feed you When the disease spins lies to your brain Saying that eating is a bad idea We stop time together Putting the world on... by lori | Apr 11, 2012 | Benefits, Community, Story
Monday evening I decided to go on an unannounced neighborhood Walkabout. I actually planned just to go from the backyard to the front yard, but a squirrel caught my eye and before you know it I was at our corner store. At this point, I was kind of freaked out, I’m... by lori | Feb 9, 2011 | Sustaining
Well, my Steelers lost. Sigh. Continuing from Sustaining a self-organizing group for 20+years (1 of 3) From my perspective, this 20-year long, 100+ member group appears to sustain itself because the group is contagious (in a good way). Group members themselves are...