Why Am I Telling You This
Originally posted on C.M. Rivers:
I came across the recipe in your old index card box, alphabetically misplaced between Fruitcake and Fritter Batter. “I miss you”, I said aloud as I measured out the sugar, butter, salt and evaporated milk. The cat looked…
This summer I hope to visit the place I scattered my mom’s ashes 26 years ago, near the foot of Neahkhanie Mountain on the Oregon coast. Standing in the wind above the sea, I will be sure to remember this Hopi Prayer. “Do not stand at my… Continue Reading “Hopi Prayer”
For many long years, sleep did not come. Now it is here, a sanctuary, an unremembered temple of well-fed lions. Summer comes, undeniable as the needs of body and soul. We peel away her nightdress, and when she goes we go with her. There… Continue Reading “Humble Warrior”
Let me tell you now how much I will miss you. Let me not spend another moment wandering the world with words unspoken. Let me not wait until you are gone, as I have waited with so many now lost from me, and narrowed my eyes… Continue Reading “Yard Work”
When things unravel with such fury, we conclude that something should be held responsible. We look for a place to lay our blame, though the source of our pain often has the power to be a catalyst for growth, a facilitator of movement in… Continue Reading “Towards The Fire”
My previous post, Awakenings, was written in reflection of my step-dad’s recent passing due to pancreatic cancer. Paul Hout was a great man. Throughout my childhood, he and my mom had a tumultuous on-and-off relationship, and were married for a brief time. In those… Continue Reading “A Note On “Awakenings””