“Around the world, people view the butterfly as representing endurance, change, hope, and life.” Butterflies have been showing up for my sister and me in the last week. We thought it was Dad sending love. This one pictured above fluttered around me while I was reading outside the other day and hung out in the flowers next to me for over an hour. Watching it provided a short reprieve from a heartbreaking, awful and overwhelming week.…
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It’s a snowy March day in Wyoming and I’ve been thinking a lot about my Dad today. It’s true what people say, that the grief comes in waves. There are good days and bad days. Days when I don’t want to think or talk about it at all, and days where I can’t quite focus fully on anything else because he is on my mind. Some days it feels good to cry, and other days…
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One month. One month ago I was sitting at home on my yoga mat preparing a music playlist for my class and my brother called. “You need to come home Roz.” His voice cracked, “It’s time.” It’s a blur after that. A call to Michael, searching for a flight, packing, waiting, worrying, crying into Penny’s fur, laying down for an hour that felt useless, a four hour drive to Denver in the middle of the…
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I have noticed that people in Wyoming drive a lot. Granted, we have a lot of wide open space here and towns are spread far apart, but I’m talking about the people who drive two blocks to the bar or a restaurant in town, or “walk” their dogs by driving and letting their dogs run beside the car. What’s up with that? It baffles me. Maybe it’s an older person, or someone who can’t walk,…
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It’s a quiet Sunday. Grey. Michael and I raked the billions of fallen leaves in our yard today, which was somewhat of a feat in the Wyoming wind. It was the kind of day that calls for cozy socks and a nap. Our wood stove is back in regular use, our only (chosen) means of heat through the winter months. Michael and I took the dogs for a walk and the town felt more still…
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