• Path in the woods
    Gratitude,  Grief,  Life transitions

    The Journey

    I went to England last year and this year – not for the holidays, but to see where I belonged. I haven’t been sure about it for a very long time. I am having lunch with my friend Ruthie today. She is a diner chick like me. I have written about her before. She is a bereaved mother without a filter which I love, and she knew my late husband, John, before I did. So, it’s lovely to be with someone who not only is comfortable with me talking about John, but who talks about him more than I do. I know she will want to know all about my…

  • Flying geese
    Gratitude,  Healing Lessons,  Humor

    Tuesday

    Today was a bitter sweet day. I had breakfast with my dear friend Ruthie and the magic about Ruthie is that she talks about John more than I do. She knew him before I did and watched our progress with loving eyes. She is a bereaved mother and has a heart bigger than the world with a mouth without a filter which I love. She asks questions. She challenges me……..are you really all right or are you hiding anything? I tell her the truth, as it would be pointless to do otherwise, and assure her that I speak openly on my mental, physical, spiritual and emotional health. Added to her…

  • Gratitude

    Amazing Grace

    It takes me some time to acclimate to a change of time, whether it is the backward/forward time or jet lag. I have been waking up earlier and that’s perhaps because I am at last getting some sleep. This morning I woke up at 6.30 a.m. I know many of you have been up for hours at this time, but it’s been closer to 8 a.m. for me, so please keep your “You should be grateful!” remarks to yourselves.  Upon waking, my first thought was “Oh crap”. I wake up with that thought quite often since June 5th 2015. It doesn’t mean anything other than I am royally pissed off…

  • Yvonne with Bonnie the horse
    Gratitude

    Sleepless in North Wales PA

    This is not an unusual occurrence for me – I am sleepless often for a variety of reasons. I can get up and write, then go to sleep. Not tonight – nothing – nada: this muse has disappeared. This is my first blog in seven years. Imagine that. Someone as verbose as I, arid and dried up. That’s the writing, not me. I am thriving. Is it something like my concern for Adele? All her songs were so sad about lost loves and regrets that when she became happy I felt her creativity might dry up.  Is that the same for me? Certainly I am not happy in the way…