Mother | 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

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 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 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

Jan 29 2017

3 Comments

Posts

Marching, Mourning, & the Meaning of It All

How marching with the pink pussyhat power posse of my family and friends — and people from all over the world — helped me mourn and mark the anniversary of my mother’s death.

My mother’s favorite color was pink. I grew up in a home in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s that boasted a curvaceous coral pink sectional couch. Our bathroom was always painted pink, with bubble gum pink towels, little pink perfumed soaps, and plastic pink flowers. Mom always dressed in pink, including the day we buried her. At the visitation, our family wore pink in her memory; pink flower sprays adorned her white casket and flanked her like honor guard sentries. When family members returned home after the funeral service and burial — the sky was resplendent in pink — a message from our mother wishing us safe travels. Continue reading →

Tagged Blue-Collar, Donald Trump, Election 2017, Family, Hillary Clinton, Madison, Marching, Mother, Mourning, Pink, Presidential Inauguration, Pussy Power, Pussyhats, Sisters, The Women's March, Wisconsin, Working Class

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

Mixed Metaphors

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

Tag Archives: Mother

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

Another Dispatch from the Hideout

Ethel Mae’s Garden: A Mother’s Legacy

With a Little Help from My Friends

Marching, Mourning, & the Meaning of It All

Drinking from a Glass Half-Full