Tag Archives: beauty
Confidential
For the first time in my adult life, I am wearing a tankini with a big fluffy skirt over it and my belly is hanging out. I didn’t go swimming, but I am wearing my swimsuit. At first, I was a little nervous, but then I trust myself in the confidence of a balding, middle-aged man who is talking about his Jesus and how women need to be submissive. And I’ve walked around town, not giving a fuck.


BTW: Today is my Bestie’s birthday. I’m celebrating her in all her wonder. She is so very human and so authentic to her spirit it would be the biggest challenge not to admire her.

Estella-TAMP
Tragedy marked her life
Grief visited often for wine
Patience held her hand
History lived in deep companionship
Her spirit permeated the room
With elegant; lady-like perfume.
Every greeting warmed fresh with loving heart,
delivered with compassionate hands.
Adventure called her naivety which she answered joyfully.
Even if she glimpsed her rear view mirror,
Her vision always focused on the road in front of her.
With resilient strength she held her line as long as she could
Con todo mi corazón, me muevo con mayor suavidad gracias a Estella Gomez del Campo.
with my whole heart, I move more gently because of Estella Gomez del Campo
Narcissus
I am the fairest in the land I will not grant you to hold my hand Women weep and lords they kneel So taken are they by my appeal I am a hunter, true,…
Narcissus

Witness
I will be your witness.
I, but a casual name to your kin,
will hold you truly and dearly,
cherish deeply the breaths
Between ideas, ideology, and emotions
That I have been honored to share with you.
With the reverence afforded a blessing
I will weep for the absence
of your knowledge
severed by inevitable occasion
Master to servant
Teacher to student
Friendship entertained
with portions communal
A time of Kairos inspected.
The right, critical, or opportune moment
To bring witness and testimony of you
To the level of intimacy you’ve granted.
Unexpected Holiness
As a practicing Death Doula, I have the privilege and honor to walk people home. Sometimes the human I am assisting has a goal they want to accomplish before they die or they want specific music playing throughout their stay with hospice. The sky is the limit if I can get it done.
My most recent client, Alden* (not his real name), is one I’ve known for well over a decade. I have been his caregiver for several of those years and his POA for the last few months.
He never married or had kids except for his beloved cats whom he referred to as his kids. Puttyhead and Topper were his world. Puttyhead was 15 and died the day Alden came home from an extended stay at an after hospital rehab facility. Topper is also 15 and lovingly small.
Only a month later, Alden was back in the hospital in critical condition. When he was stable enough to communicate, he expressed a longing to see Topper.
After he returned to a rehab facility, I brought the two together. It was extremely emotional for everyone involved.
Three months later, Alden was again admitted to ICU. This time was far worse than before which prompted end of life discussions. He again, miraculously pulled himself back to stable-ish.
He was given a choice between four options with hospice being three of them in different places. The fourth was terminal reduction of oxygen which was immediately rejected.
Hospice option one had him remaining in ICU but he couldn’t see Topper, but his loved ones could all come visit.
Hospice option number two had him still in the hospital but in a room where he could see his “child”.
The third hospice option was for him to go home to his cat, but the condition was that he couldn’t be on the heavy duty breathing support. He had to be able to be on a cannula. But each attempt at weaning him hadn’t lasted longer than five to six minutes.
I asked him to think about hospice. There was zero pressure to choose. Breaking the hospital/rehab cycle is too personal for me to make the call. I’m there to support them and offer as many feasible options as practical.
I returned the following morning to find him holding steady on a cannula! Three hours at that time with no stat drops. Alden looked pleased with himself and he decided no hospice.
I finished the visit and headed home.
A short while later, I got a call from Nurse Beth explaining that things weren’t working well. Bring the people who love him, which I did.
Within the hour, a small group gathered by Alden’s side. We talked with him, hugged him, shared stories, and then he rallied (It’s rather common for someone to have a surge of energy and seem like their health is improving when death approaches).
The following morning, Alden was awake, alert, and writing down his wishes. He wanted to go home to Topper. We got hospice on board. But Alden wasn’t strong enough for transport.
With a lot of logistics and a stand-off with the administration about bringing in Topper, we figured it out.
Topper arrived and spent two and a half hours sharing time together. These two “old men” said everything they needed to say to each other. Topper crawled up onto Alden’s chest and fell asleep while his dad stroked his fur. The room was filled with so much love and beauty it was heartbreakingly holy.
Alden was tired. He asked me to bring Topper home.
I returned to the hospital and saw symptoms of end of life occurring. (Changes in coloration of fingers, eyes glassy and unable to blink for example). We pulled in a sleeper for me but I stayed with him until he died early morning.
The silence. The absence. The intensity of ancestral grief honoring the life that was and the life that is. The punctuation mark ripped from the book of the living, transferred to the book of the dead was complete.
Paperwork finished, I looked out the window to see the pre-sunrise colors warming the purple sky. I thought, “This is the first sunset my friend can’t see. Another day for me but not for him.” (For clarity, the contrast between the sunrise I was seeing and his sunset shortly before).
I watched the purple change to pink then orange as the sun granted light on the dark day. I felt the love we shared as friends grant me strength and purpose to walk my people home.
Celebrate
The griefs are many
but find value in truth that:
Each breath
Each heartbeat
Each moment celebrating
Each of those
Is a courtship of death.
By embracing
THIS breath
THIS heartbeat
THIS moment of joy
Is a nod of recognition
To infinite mystery

Our age is known
By the buried bones
Of our bloodline
Reflected in chosen heritage
And the legacy of their love.
I’m an animal!
I started out as a Mare
A pirate loudly aging
But I soon became an otter
Clinging to my people
Handle to handle
I turned into a fish
Overturned yellow tube
This was unintentional
I scaled rocks
Ducking under a sunken branch
Finally back on my trusty steed
I was a floater
Landing in dead pools
With big rocks and shallow water
Butt’s up was flowing over
Rapids that jostled rapidly
Happily lapping at the shore
Without good position,
I transmogrified into a T-Rex
Short little arms no water could reach
Neither could any feet
I magically became a turtle
Floundering on my back
Finally in the flow again,
Mostly sunny haint blue skies with
Partly cloudy wispy white
Lava-floe sun shrieking hotly
A hawk and a turkey buzzard
Circle the sky at different altitudes
I think out loud, “Ah, what a metaphor for my life.”
Chaos ensued, shenanigans had,
I laughed at myself in genuine mirth
I essentially stuttered downstream
One challenge to the next victory
How deeply grateful am I to learn
How I move in the depths
And handle the shallows
Ending up beached; engineering solutions
As I concluded the journey
I reverted and emerged, once again, Mare, but better for the experience.
HNBR: Part 4 of Day 4

On the back of the carriage seat we rode on through the Mackinac State Park, someone had placed an apt sticker. We knew what row we were in because of that.
We had 7 minutes to run over and look at this natural formation. The scientific reason for this phenomenon is erosion but the Indigenous story was much better. The beach down below was relatively quiet. It was quite a difference between the beaches in Portugal and Michigan’s. Our driver yelled Marco and we responded with Polo so we knew we had to get back to the tour.

I almost forgot this little beauty. At the butterfly conservatory, there was a terrarium out on the porch with a sign that read “Warning! Attack Turtle” only it was empty. We found out why when the guide at the Wings of Mackninac explained that she took this little tortise out with her when she went on lunchbreak so the newly found friend could enjoy a rich harvest of dandelions.
After we left the tour carriage, we walked down a steep hill. At the bottom of the hill, across from a large park, we found this church. The door was open. We agreed that going in as UU’s was rather obligatory. The hymns and readings were still up from Easter.


We found this directly across from the entrance. We took it seriously, quietly ushered ourselves in, sitting in a pew farthest from the door. A family was in there and the kids were making all sorts of uncorrected noise. After they left, we settled into the peace only to have two older women come in, sit at the back, and talk on their phones. We stayed until we’d looked up the hymns and readings.
Water dancing on the haint blue ceiling. Jen and I were lightly surprised to see such a cajun tradition carried on that far north.

For some reason, there are two signs for the Mackinac State Harbor. We got pictures of both.
I’m vibing with the wooden version of the sign, what about you?


This is one of my favorite pictures of Jen because I was making her laugh so hard she was literally doubled over. I’m not even sure what I was saying to her, but it sure did get her giggler.
A gigantic lilac bush that smelled utterly pure.


A bit of VanGogh brought to you by the Detroit Institute of Arts. It was just hanging around on the harbor path.
Beauty comes in so many subjective forms. These pretties were just hanging out in a field of grass we walked through.


I’m pointing to the seal and the letter M because…Mare.
The view from our room at the Cedar Hill Lodge.

Giving up grief
I’ve given up on grief.
It’s too small of a word
To contain the absence I feel
To cover the sorrow that blooms
Unexpectedly
When I make coffee in the morning
Or taste a muffin
Like you used to make
I’ve given up grief
It’s too small of a space
To hold all that was you
The way you laughed
The scent of your body
Fresh out of the shower
Or sweaty with work
I’ve given up grief
It’s too shallow for a feeling
That is deeper than I thought
Although I suspected,
Your love holds me buoyant
In the ocean of our commitment
Yes, I’ve given up grief
Because the world requires
The gift of who you were
Through my eyes.
I can’t hold that when it,
Like you,
Were born to shine even now
