Grief | Mixed Metaphors

Feb 23 2019

Posts

Celebrating 62 Psychedelic Years of Cindy Castro

“What a Long Strange Trip It’s Been! In her tie-dyed t-shirts and sandals, with the ‘devil in her eyes’ looks and mischievous smile, Cindy was a singular free spirit, a strong-willed, and hard-headed survivor.”

For readers of this blog and my posts on social media, you’ve been following the journey of our sister Cindy Castro who was diagnosed with Stage 4 Terminal Cancer in March of 2018. She died on January 13, 2019, which ironically was my birthday, reminding me of two things. First, how grateful I am that Cindy was my sister, and second that I was lucky enough to live another year to celebrate the anniversary of my birth. This date will forever be a reminder for me of beginnings and endings, the cycle of life. Continue reading →

Tagged Cancer, Celebration of Life, Death, Family, Friends, Grateful Dead, Grief, Legend, Peace Out, Sisters, Tributes

Dec 31 2018

3 Comments

Posts

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 →

Tagged Death, Family, Future, Grief, Holding On, Holidays, Letting Go, Looking Back, Looking Forward, Loss, Love, New Year, New Year's Eve, Past, Present, Relationships, Sisters

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

1 Comment

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

Nov 26 2017

Posts

Another Dispatch from the Hideout

“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” — Desmond Tutu

It seems that I’ve retreated to the hideout again. For those not familiar with my earlier post, the hideout is a virtual one, described as follows, “I don’t have a cabin in the woods, or a bunker in the basement, I only have my home, a 645-square foot apartment. It’s where I wake up in the morning, retreat at the end of the work day, hideout on the weekends when I’m writing or feeling introverted, and end my days, often falling asleep on the couch watching TV. Yeah, I’m that girl. I live alone and most days I’m happy with that choice.” Continue reading →

Tagged AA, Depression, Family, Father, Grace, Gratitude, Grief, H.A.L.T., Holidays, Home, Hope, Mother, Racine, Recovery, Sisters, Thanksgiving

Jul 28 2017

Posts

Dispatch from the Hideout

“In order to understand the world, one has to turn away from it on occasion.”― Albert Camus

“Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.” ― C.G. Jung

For me, the past week has been one of introspection and retreat. It began with the 18-month anniversary of my mother’s death, counterbalanced by joyful anniversaries and celebrations of the living — birthdays, graduations, and more of family members and loved ones — grief and gratitude. This unfolded during a critical period in the political landscape when our leaders were charged with designing and implementing a promised healthcare plan, first, repeal then replace, which when brought to a vote in a number of forms, failed again, and again, and yes, again. Continue reading →

Tagged Extrovert, Family, Friends, Gratitude, Grief, Healthcare, Introspection, Introvert, Legacy, Loss, POTUS, Relationships, Repeal & Replace, Retreat, Skinny Repeal, The Hideout, Trump

Jul 22 2017

Posts

Ethel Mae’s Garden: A Mother’s Legacy

Grief and gratitude, hand in hand

The past few months have marked a series of family anniversaries, holidays, birthdays, and celebrations. There were parties, gatherings, and projects that brought us together. We affirmed our bonds with each other — across generations — in our laughter, our stories, family traditions, and shared experiences — the nature and nurture that created our family. The person at the center — the heart of our family — was our father’s wife and soulmate, his best friend — our mother, grandmother and great grandmother, Ethel Mae. We are all flowers in her garden. Continue reading →

Tagged Children, Ethel Mae's Garden, Family, Father, Flowers, Garden, Grandchildren, Gratitude, Great Grandchildren, Grief, Home, Legacy, Love, Memories, Mother, Planting Flowers, Sisters

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: Grief

Celebrating 62 Psychedelic Years of Cindy Castro

Who Knows What Tomorrow May Bring?

Holding On & Letting Go

You Can’t Go Home Again

Tag Team Sisters

Another Trip Around the Sun

Another Dispatch from the Hideout

Dispatch from the Hideout

Ethel Mae’s Garden: A Mother’s Legacy

Without Her: A Mother’s Day Lament