Death | Mixed Metaphors

Nov 21 2018

Posts

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 →

Tagged Chosen Family, Death, Family, Father, Friends, Hideout, Holidays, Home, Loss, Memories, Mother, Racine, Recovery, Relationships, Retreat, Seasons, Sisters, Stories, Thanksgiving, The Changing Seasons, The Loud Family, Winter

Oct 21 2018

1 Comment

Posts

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 →

Tagged AA, Death, Family, Father, Friends, Future, Grief, Holding On, Home, Impermanence, Letting Go, Loss, Love, Memories, Mother, Past, Present, Sisters

Oct 05 2018

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Posts

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 →

Tagged 1968, Body, Brother, Death, Family, Father, Grief, High School Reunion, Home, Loss, Mind, Mother, Racine, Sisters, Spirit, Tag Team Sisters

Jul 28 2018

2 Comments

Posts

Tag Team Sisters

“When someone has cancer, the whole family and everyone who loves them does, too.” — Terri Clark

“The simple message of It Takes a Village is as relevant as ever: We are all in this together.”
― Hillary Rodham Clinton

When I walk into a room and friends who I love and trust ask me, “How are you?” or “What’s new?” I break down in tears. I’m a mess. I’m normally the in-charge eldest child, natural leader, the first one to raise my hand with questions, a confident, outspoken, and opinionated woman — the kind of person who seems like she has it all together, even when she doesn’t. I can’t pretend anymore. Continue reading →

Tagged Brother, Cancer, Chosen Family, Death, Family, Father, Friends, Grief, Home, It Takes a Village, Loss, Love, Mother, Racine, Sisters, Tag Team Sisters, The Loud Family

Jan 19 2018

1 Comment

Posts

Another Trip Around the Sun

“My life is better with every year of living it.” — Rachel Maddow

“Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Grateful. The past weekend I celebrated another trip around the sun, 365 days, one-day-at-a-time. Songs come to mind, the first from the soundtrack of my life as a young woman growing up in the fifties and sixties, Bob Dylan’s, My Back Pages, followed by memories of people, both here and gone, and my gratitude for their presence in my life, Rufus Wainwright’s cover of Who Knows Where the Time Goes? Continue reading →

Tagged Birthdays, Death, Family, Films, Friends, Gratitude, Grief, Loss, Madison, Memoir, Mother, Sixties, The Pentagon Papers, Third Act, University of Wisconsin, Work

May 29 2017

2 Comments

Posts

With a Little Help from My Friends

“Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
with a little help from my friends” — Songwriters: John Lennon/Paul McCartney

It’s the Memorial Day weekend. There are many traditions associated with this holiday. From Wikipedia, “Memorial Day is a federal holiday in the United States for remembering the people who died while serving in the country’s armed forces. The holiday is currently observed every year on the last Monday of May. It marks the unofficial start of the summer vacation season, while Labor Day marks its unofficial end.” Continue reading →

Tagged Chosen Family, Death, Family, Father, Friends, Gratitude, Holidays, Home, Loss, Love, Memorial Day, Memories, Mother, Racine, Relationships, Stories

Dec 31 2016

1 Comment

Posts

Drinking from a Glass Half-Full

“Every last one of us can do better than give up.” —Cheryl Strayed

Looking back at 2016 with gratitude and ahead to the New Year with optimism.

Before you jump to any conclusions — I’m not crazy — 2016 sucked! I’m not going to rehash all the reasons why, because we all know why, and we’ve talked about it around the virtual, social media water cooler from glasses half-empty for the past year and more. As we’ve all been reminded by a quote from Albert Einstein (who knew he was the first to say it?), “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” Continue reading →

Tagged 2016, 2016 Presidential Election, 2017, Activism, Death, Family, Feminism, Friends, Glass Half-Full, Holidays, Mother, New Year, Politics

Dec 19 2016

3 Comments

Posts

The Toilet Zone: First Flush

“You will find that it is necessary to let things go; simply for the reason that they are heavy.” — Anonymous

It’s time to say good-bye to 2016. As a recovering person, the Serenity Prayer has been playing an endless loop in my mind; it’s my leitmotif for 2016. It’s reminded me —again and again — that there are many things happening in my world — and the larger world we share — that are outside of my control. In an effort to address them I’ve created this new Mixed Metaphors, Oh My! series, The Toilet Zone. Continue reading →

Tagged AA, Acceptance, Activism, Change, Courage, Death, Karma, Letting Go, Mother, Politics, Protest, Serenity Prayer, Social Change, The Personal Is Political, Trump, Wisdom

Jun 18 2016

1 Comment

Posts

A Grateful Daughter: A Father’s Day Tribute

“My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me.” — Jim Valvano

As my friends, family, work colleagues, and regular readers are already aware, I recently finished moving. I now have only one set of keys, and my material life resides in a single location for the exception of a dozen totes that a friend generously volunteered to store in her basement. Moving seemed like a never-ending process and I’m grateful it’s over and I can stop writing and talking about it (I will, I promise). I can now direct my energy to other things, which brings me to Father’s Day and the tragedy in Orlando at Pulse LGBTQ nightclub. You might ask, “How are these two subjects related?” Continue reading →

Tagged Coming Out, Death, Family, Father's Day, Fathers, Friends, Home, LGBTQ, Loss, Love, Memoir, Orlando, Pulse

May 08 2016

Posts

Without Her: A Mother’s Day Lament

“The death of a mother is the first sorrow wept without her.” — Author unknown

On this Mother’s Day I want to express my gratitude. I’m lucky. My eyes first met my mother’s over 66 years ago on the day I was born. She was the first person I ever experienced in life, whose flesh touched mine, her smell familiar, whose breasts nourished me, and whose arms held me close to her heart. I’m sure I was comforted by the sound of her soft voice and steady heartbeat that I heard while still in her womb. Every year on my birthday I felt intimately close to her. We often shared tears, tears of gratitude and joy. This year was the last one we’ll ever share together. Mom died 10 days after my birthday. This is my first Mother’s Day without her. Continue reading →

Tagged Brother, Death, Family, Fathers, Grief, Holidays, Home, Legacy, Loss, Love, Memoir, Mother's Day, Mothers, Movies, Racine, Relationships, Sisters, Stories

Mixed Metaphors

Mixed Metaphors, Oh My! – A place where words, this writer, and readers play together.

Tag Archives: Death

Hibernation & the Holidays: Retreat to the Hideout

Holding On & Letting Go

You Can’t Go Home Again

Tag Team Sisters

Another Trip Around the Sun

With a Little Help from My Friends

Drinking from a Glass Half-Full

A Grateful Daughter: A Father’s Day Tribute

Without Her: A Mother’s Day Lament