Tag Archives: Loss

9/11: When Time Stops & Memories Live On

September 11 attacks began at 7:46 AM (CST) on Tuesday, September 11, 2001

On That Day

It was an absolutely perfect, late summer, early fall day. The sky was blue — almost translucent — clear and cloudless. The temperature was mild, in the 60’s that morning. I was getting dressed for work. Before I left for the office, I called one of my best friends and chosen family, Donna Salverson. Continue reading

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Dispatch from the Hideout: My Post-Pandemic Life

As a writer, I like words, their origin and meanings. Memory: Something remembered from the past; a recollection. Memorial: Something designed to preserve the memory of a person, event, as a monument or a holiday.” — from Mixed Metaphors, Oh My! With a Little Help from My Friends

First, the Memorial Day Holiday is a time to acknowledge and honor the men and women who have served our country in war and peace, and more importantly to work for peace in the world. It’s also a time I remember loved ones, friends, and colleagues who have died.

This year it’s also a return to some version of our pre-pandemic lives — a new normal — a post- pandemic life for those of us who’ve been fully vaccinated. Continue reading

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Dispatch from the Hideout: A Shot in the Arm

A Shot in the Arm: A stimulus or booster, something vitalizing or encouraging — Dictionary.com

Like many anniversaries, the date you choose to celebrate, or mark a year, depends on how you count and what date you choose. For romantic relationships, some people will choose the date they met, their first kiss, or when they made love the first time, sometimes it’s when someone declares, “I love you.”

The anniversary of the COVID-19 Pandemic is similar in that there are a number of dates to choose from, depending on what country you live in, the degree of truth or disinformation delivered by the leaders, the weight and influence given to the medical and science community, and the impact of commerce over health concerns. Continue reading

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Mouse Turd Cake & Other Birthday Memories

“Auntie Linda, it’s okay that you’re old. It means you’re not dead!” — Four-year-old niece, Gemma

The Backstory: When Gemma was four years old, I was bending over her car seat buckling her in, she saw my face up close, let’s be precise, the wrinkles of my face up close. In that observational, yet nonjudgmental matter-of-fact manner that children possess, she commented, “Auntie Linda, you’re old!!!” My old, wrinkled face couldn’t hide my hurt feelings. My niece Gemma loves me wholeheartedly and clearly didn’t want me to feel bad, so she replied in a cheery voice with a smile on her face, “Auntie Linda, it’s okay that you’re old, it means you’re not dead!”  And you know, she’s right, I’m not dead, and I’m grateful for that. Gemma is now 16-years-old and I remain older and above ground. Continue reading

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Dispatch from the Hideout: Letter to Loved Ones

“Either write something worth reading, or do something worth writing.” Benjamin Franklin

“The goal isn’t to live forever, it’s to create something that will.”  —  Chuck Pahlaniuk

First some background. As my Mixed Metaphors, Oh My! readers know, I’m a writer and blogger. Friends and family, from firsthand experience, are also aware I’m a storyteller. I’m 70-years-old, yet consider myself young at heart and continue to be a student of life. I’m a work in progress, and perfectly flawed. I live alone and on the continuum of introvert/extrovert, I fall in between. I’m an ambivert.

I’ve been socially distancing and sheltering-in-place to some degree since my previous job ended at the end of February and has continued due to the coronavirus pandemic. Since May, I began working part-time at a job as an LGBTQ+ AODA Advocate that is more an avocation than vocation. I’m grateful. Continue reading

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Dispatch from the Hideout: What Was, What Will Be

“You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood…back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time…” — Thomas Wolfe

On the Friday before the Memorial Day Holiday weekend, I reminisced about holidays past. Years ago, a group of friends nicknamed, ‘The Orphans,’ would plan an annual camping trip to Peninsula State Park in Fish Creek in Door County, Wisconsin. We dubbed these one of the ‘The Orphan Holidays.’ From a vignette from my memoir in the works, Perfectly Flawed.  Continue reading

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Who Knows What Tomorrow May Bring?

“Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream.” — Khalil Gibran

“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.” — Mahatma Gandhi

The flip side of the question that the title poses is “Who knows where the times goes?” As I age, time seems to slip by faster. An event that happened a month ago feels like it occurred last week. My to-do lists each day grow longer, as if I need to accomplish as much as I’m able to before time runs out. Dreams and plans for tomorrow are aspirational and possess greater value because they may elude me.  In the end, there is no guarantee for tomorrow.

There is only today and a lifetime of yesterdays.  Continue reading

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Hibernation & the Holidays: Retreat to the Hideout

Hibernation definition an extended period of remaining inactive or indoors

Hideout synonyms hiding place, hideaway, retreat, refuge, shelter, safe house, sanctuary, sanctum

First, I’m a creature of habit. I find comfort in my routines. There’s a rhythm to my days and nights. I read somewhere recently that we all experience some degree of OCD behavior. It’s certainly true for me. The gears of my Circadian clock are still trying to mesh with some synchronicity since the ending of Daylight Savings Time (DST) and turning the clocks one hour behind. Who knew that would make such an impact? They’re grinding a little right now as I try to slip back into a sleep cycle.  Continue reading

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Holding On & Letting Go

“Life is a balance of holding on and letting go.” — Rumi

Holding on and letting go is one of the subjects I keep coming back to, a thread in many of my essays and remembrances. It’s an essential element in the cycle of life, a theme in many of my memories, a lesson to be learned and practiced as needed, and today again, present in my journey.

This is not unique to me. It’s a universal truth; it’s what makes us human, mortal, and sentient beings. Holding on and letting go is one of the first things we learn as an infant, one of the first things we teach as a parent, one of the most difficult emotions we experience at the beginning and at the end of our lives, and the lives of loved ones, as we examine who and what we need to let go of and who and what we need to hold onto. Continue reading

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You Can’t Go Home Again

Hat Tip to Thomas Wolfe 

“You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood…back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time…”  — Thomas Wolfe

First, let me go on record that as a memoir writer and someone who writes about family, relationships, and the mundane moments of everyday life — you can return home by remembering. I’ve learned though as a reminiscence writer that memory is malleable and can play tricks on you, sometimes sanding off the rough edges of some memories, while sharpening others. The nation has witnessed this phenomenon the past couple of weeks during the Supreme Court Justice nomination hearings. Continue reading

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