News Trend Flowers, Candles, Ribbon|Actual

I've told my children that when I die, to release balloons in the sky to celebrate that I graduated.

For me, death is a graduation.  - Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Flowers gathered in armloads.

Candles lit along walkways.

Purple ribbons tied round trees

Since the shootings in my neighborhood, I've joined in the spontaneous efforts to gaji and celebrate the three young lives that were lost.

I painted my big red balls purple, and every evening, I place three lit candles - one for each lost soul - in front of them.

I've helped to wrap purple ribbons round the thirty-eight trees along the main road outside my neighborhood and keep a couple fresh hydrangea blooms tucked into each oversized bow.

So this week, as the one-month anniversary of the shooting came round, I began to wonder:

How long do I keep this up?

I peppered my family with questions and Googled proper mourning periods. No one gave me a concrete answer. And in the absence of any defining information, I began to tell myself that a month is long enough.

I mean, all this candle management and flower harvesting adds at least an extra half hour to my daily chores. And the cost of the candles definitely adds up over time.

So, I told myself, a month is long enough. I'll stop after that.

It was that last night, as I was setting the candles down on the sidewalk, that it hit me.

Three people are dead.

Their short lives are gone. Blown out in a snuff.

Their parents, siblings, families and friends will ache for the rest of their own lives with missing them.

And I'm complaining about lighting a few matches and snipping a few flowers?

How does the cost of a few dozen candles compare to a human life? Is it too great a sacrifice for me to cut out a few dollars from my budget in order to honor three human beings?

Well.

That snapped me out of my selfish little reverie. And while it's certainly true that I am not done grieving for Anna, Jake and Jordan, another idea hit me too:  I want more time to celebrate their lives too.

Flowers

Candles

Ribbons

These icons of shock and loss and death are also emblems of three shining lives.

So let the tears mingle with laughter, and let my daily remembering of Anna, Jake and Jordan continue for as long as it feels right.

* * * * *

I light a fourth candle each and every day,

but this one does not go on public display with the others.

Up on my porch, close to my front door,

this candle burns for the fourth life that is forever changed by the shooting.

This candle burns for Allen.

* * * * *

To read more about this tragedy and the healing in its aftermath, try:

Silver Threads

Dear Mrs. Ivanov

News Trend Full Circle|Actual

If you enter the home of the Ambassador to Malaysia in Havana, Cuba,

you will find this sweet portrait prominently displayed in the front hall.

And once you read my story, you will understand why.

This is a story about a dear little boy, his loving family, and my very special friend.

Pictured here is Amierul Wafiq Bin Khairi, third son and fourth child of my lovely Malaysian hosts in Cuba.

Wafiq was a precocious little boy from the start. Born in Washington D.C. Of his diplomatic parents, he learned English as his first language and considered himself an American. When his family finished the U.S. Posting and returned to Kuala Lumpur, two-year-old Wafiq expressed his displeasure with the move and wondered when they might go back to DC. Still, he contented himself by playing with Hot Wheels, memorizing the makes and models of cars, and otherwise being a normal toddler.

Until he woke up one morning complaining of aching feet.

And was soon diagnosed with leukemia.

Surprisingly - or maybe not - Wafiq handled his illness with maturity and calm. Though he didn't like staying overnight in the hospital, his treatments did not set him back for long. He handled the dreary procedures like a champ and usually came home in good spirits, ready to play with his beloved toy cars and carry on his happy little life.

But over the course of a year, he grew weaker. His appetite paled, and his family began to fear the worst. On a quiet Friday afternoon, he laid down on his bed, closed his eyes, and peacefully left this life for the next.

Bless his sweet soul.

Now, back to the photo. This is the last photograph ever taken of Wafiq.

It seems that one of Wafiq's relatives had come visiting, and the boy asked this favored uncle to take his picture. Posing himself on a formal chair, Wafiq - who typically presented a serious face to the camera - surprised everyone with a smile. His mother says this is the only photo she has of her son's beautiful smile.

I can certainly understand why she treasures this precious portrait.

And I appreciate why she feels especially grateful to this particular relative whose special bond with Wafiq made this photo possible.

And it brings a special smile to my own face to hear that this uncle is the one and only Mohd Yuzairie, my first and best Malaysian friend, without whom I never would have met this lovely family and shared in the beautiful story of Wafiq's life.

And now my story is all told out. But the circles of friendship and family, life and love, continue to spin and spiral around us all.

* * * * *

Check out more stories about my once-in-a-lifetime trip to Cuba and my wonderful friends who lived there:

I Will Bake You A Pie

Cuban Makan

Cuban Economics

El Malecon Cloudburst

A La Playa

Creepy Cuban Kudzu

Plaza De La Revolucion

Old Havana

Poolside in Havana

A Cuban Sunset Story

Sunset Chasers, Cuban Edition

The Puppy At The Castle

Old Havana On The Eve Of Fidel's Birthday

An ASEAN Celebration

Nayli's Bedroom

Varadero, Cuba

Winding Down

Dear Cuba

Aqil's Chicken

The Gentle Art Of Reframing

My Cuban Home

Tickled Pink

Full Circle

Chicken Drumsticks

News Trend Cleveland Rocks|Actual

"Life gives you plenty of time to do whatever you want to do if you stay in the present moment."

-Deepak Chopra

During the week we spent with my second-born in Ohio, we took a side trip up to Cleveland. That's where my husband grew up, and where his beloved Indians play baseball.

So we timed our trip to align with the team's home schedule, and bought tickets for a Saturday night game against the Philadelphia Phillies.

Just one problem. Dogs are not normally invited to ball games. So someone in our party would be required to forfeit the game and stay home with Gracie.

Guess who volunteered.

Can't really complain though. Got some much-needed rest for my damaged shoulder, and enjoyed a lovely evening in.

^ Glorious sunlit skies over the parking lots outside my hotel room near Great Northern Mall in North Olmsted, Ohio. Not too shabby.

^ Spoilers: the Indians lost. The defeat was easier to bear from the comfort of my big fluffy bed.

^ Even if I was required to share said bed with my red-headed companion. Notice how she's taking up more than her half? Yep. That's my girl.

Wasn't long before my family came bursting back in, carrying a load of snacks and sharing stories about the game. I might have been a little bit jealous of their adventures, but as my mind lingered back over the quiet hours Gracie and I spent alone together, I reminded myself that there's more than one way to have fun on a Saturday night in Cleveland.

* * * * *

Road Trip 2019: read all about it.

Leaving

Resting

Glacier National Park

Dakota Sunshine

Mackinac Bridge

My Newfound Brother

Fox Trilogy

Cleveland Rocks

Vermilion Legacy

At The Conservatory

Riding To Rifle

Arches National Park: Balanced Rock

Arches National Park: Double Arch

Arches National Park: Devil's Garden Trail

Arches National Park: Park Avenue

Dead Horse Point

Waiting For Breakfast

Canyonlands National Park

Cheeseburgers

Car Keys

News Trend Hello, September|Actual

Clear blue, sunny skies with just a hint of snap in the air.

The first hints of red appearing in the leaves at the top of the tree.

A fresh crop of homegrown apples, juicy and crisp and sweet, are ripe and ready for eating.

Hello, September, and welcome to your special merk of late summer days.

News Trend Vermilion Legacy|Actual

"This land, this water, this air, this planet - this is our legacy to our young." -Paul Tsongas

My husband's mother's family ties go back to a sweet little town in Ohio called Vermilion.

Once upon a time, her relatives ran a general store out of this charming storefront. Even then, back in the day, it was painted this same lemon yellow and adorned with a similar striped awning.

Back home, we own a little watercolor painting of this same store, painted with historical accuracy, in the same sunny colors. My mother-in-law treasured that gem for many years and I'm honored that we can carry it forward for her.

So it was lovely that on our quick trip to Cleveland, along with my husband's sister , we stopped by the old place and paid her a proper visit. She's living life as a cafe now, and looking quite well cared for. Makes me so happy to know that she has been passed on through a series of careful stewards. I'm glad to see she is loved.

Vermilion sits on the shore of Lake Erie, less than an hour west of Cleveland. With a string of beaches and deep marinas, the town enjoys an envious reputation as a resort center and the historical nickname, "Village of Lake Captains." Sure enough, just a stroll around the block landed us on the beach.

Even though Erie is the fourth-smallest of the five Great Lakes by surface area, she still offers a commanding view of endless sea and sky. Though they are fresh water lakes, the Great Lakes are shockingly huge. Standing at the shore of any of one the five Greats is a majestic experience and I never tire of marveling at the infinite blue.

So I stood on the grassy bluff above the beach and mused about other ancestors who sailed ore boats from Superior down here to Cleveland, and called Vermilion home. They may not be my blood relatives but I'm happy to know that the DNA of this seafaring adventurers lives on in my daughters' cells.

Satisfied were we all with exploring our history on the streets of Vermilion, and as afternoon passed into evening, we turned and headed our car back to Columbus. We may not ply the waters of the deep in this generation, but we are adventurers in our own rights, and I am proud to continue the legacy of our family's bold spirit. .

* * * * *

Road Trip 2019: read all about it.

Leaving

Resting

Glacier National Park

Dakota Sunshine

Mackinac Bridge

My Newfound Brother

Fox Trilogy

Cleveland Rocks

Vermilion Legacy

At The Conservatory

Riding To Rifle

Arches National Park: Balanced Rock

Arches National Park: Double Arch

Arches National Park: Devil's Garden Trail

Arches National Park: Park Avenue

Dead Horse Point

Waiting For Breakfast

Canyonlands National Park

Cheeseburgers

Car Keys

News Trend Gordon's Pumpkin Soup|Actual

I have mixed feelings about pumpkins. Sure, I love to see a fellowship of orange gourds gathered around my doorstep in the fall, and come the end of October, nothing makes me happier than to slice one up, scoop out the guts, carve a dashing grin, and light up a jack-o'lantern's spooky face for my neighborhood trick-or-treaters.

I love to look at pumpkins. But sadly, I have never enjoyed eating them.

Cookies

Breads

Lattes

Muffins

Even pumpkin pie

I totally understand pumpkin's appeal and the cozy, spicy vibes that pumpkin-flavored goodies invoke.

I just don't like how pumpkin treats taste. Too rich, too heavy, too much for me.

Still, I feel a little sad that I'm missing out on the pumpkin bandwagon. So for many years, I've tried to keep an open mind, and an eye out for some kind of pumpkin delicacy that works for me.

It was a few weeks back when my daughters and I were wandering around an autumn market that my third-born pointed out this display to me. "We should try that recipe for pumpkin soup," she suggested, and I was on board in a hot minute.

We chose one of these Winter Luxury pumpkins, took a shot of the chalkboard, and set our sights on what I hoped would be the perfect dinner for a fall winter night.

Much to my surprise, I loved this soup. It does not beat me over the head with its pumpkin-ness. The flavor is soft and gentle, due I suppose to this particular species of pumpkin. The Winter Luxury has turned me into a pumpkin soup lover and that, my friends, is no small feat.

Here, in an every so slightly revised form, is Gordon Skagit Farm's surefire recipe for a delicate and delightful pumpkin soup that even I adore:

Ingredients:

4 cups oven roasted Winter Luxury pumpkin

olive oil for drizzling

salt and pepper

1 sweet onion

1 T butter

1/2 t sugar

dua cups beer

2 cups vegetable stock

1 1/2 cup water

2 cups heavy cream

2 cups shredded cheddar cheese

Directions:

1. Chop the pumpkin into 4-6 similar-sized chunks, remove pulp and seeds. Place in a cast iron skillet, season with olive oil, salt and pepper. Pop into a 420 degree panggang for a half hour until the pumpkin is soft and golden.

Yeah. Just like that.

Dua. While the pumpkin is cooking, start the onion, butter, and sugar in a pot. Keep the heat low and stir often in order to caramelize the onions, which takes at least 20 minutes. The trick is not to brown the onions but to cook them so slowly so that they soften rather than crisp.

Tiga. When the onions are soft and just starting to brown, add the beer, vegetable stock and water. I would like to tell you that I used a rich, hearty German beer such as the chalkboard recipe recommends. But the truth is that I did not. I used two Coronas because that's what I found in my fridge, and I have zero complaints.

Scrape the cooked pumpkin from the rinds and toss the chunks into the pot. Bring to a boil, then turn down the heat to medium low and simmer for 30 minutes.

4. Use an immersion blender to smooth the soup. Revel in its gorgeous velvety texture. Add the cream and cheddar cheese and just heat through.

Lima. Serve with a dollop of sour cream and plenty more black pepper.

* * * * *

I liked this soup so much that I ate it for three meals in a row. Yep, dinner, breakfast, and lunch. And I really can't imagine a higher compliment for this tasty recipe and my new magnificent friend, the Winter Luxury pumpkin.

* * * * *

Read more about my visit to Gordon Skagit Farm here

News Trend Seeing Stars|Actual

"I will love the light for it shows me the way,

yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars."

- Og Mandino

Rain beat down on the windshield as I pulled my rental into the return lot and slid the gearshift into park. Sitting in the early morning gloom, I couldn't bring myself to turn off the ignition.

In two hours, I would be flying home to faraway Seattle and leaving my mother behind in Michigan to face her dementia alone. Based on the week I had just spent with her - especially our last sleepless, chaotic night - that was unthinkable.

In dark desperation, I remembered the wad of papers in my bag. Just the day before, we'd met my mom's new geriatric physician. He'd handed me this stack of flyers for in-home dementia care, and suggested that my mom might be ready for more support.

Yes. Absolutely.

And while I had no illusions about the lengthy delays and long lead times that would likely be required to get someone into my mom's home at night, I decided that before I got out of that car, I had to at least try.

The wipers slapped away the steady rain as I unfolded the stack of brochures and numbly dialed the number on the top page.

No answer.

Ugh. I slumped back against the seat, despondent, and wondered how I might summon up the hope to try the next number.

Then my phone rang.

"Hi, this is Joanna from Dementia Specialists. I think I just missed your call."

She listened as I stumbled through my story. And when I paused, Joanna kicked into gear.

"I can move a few things around and make time to interview your mom this morning. I'll get one of our girls in place by tonight. Don't worry. We won't leave your mom alone."

As I write this, two full years later, tears still flood my eyes as I remember the indescribable relief those words brought to me.

* * * * *

True to her word, Joanna and her team began looking after my mom that very day.

Compassionate.

Competent.

Committed.

Joanna's caregivers brought beautiful gifts into my mom's life.

They talked to her with genuine interest and treated her like an ordinary person.

They dealt matter-of-factly with the details of her disease.

They gently protected her privacy and her dignity.

My mom was not an easy client. She could not see how the disease was affecting her, she resented not only their supervision but even their companionship, and she treated these loving people as intruders.

But the caregivers understood the difference between my mom and the way the disease was affecting her behavior. They were patient, gracious, insightful, kind.

In time, my mom's walls came down and much to my surprise, relationships grew.

* * * * *

At the same time that miracle was taking place, much to my surprise, another layer of care was unfolding. Over the phone, at all times of night and day, Joanna poured countless hours into answering my questions, addressing my concerns, and educating me about my mom's disease.

She understood what I was going through emotionally, and gave me loving support.

She offered me insights and information about the disease, and helped me learn how best to interact with my mom.

She made me feel less alone.

Compassionate.

Competent.

Committed.

I am so grateful to Joanna, her caregivers, and all the staff at Dementia Specialists Homecare, for looking after not only my mom but also me.

Thanks to their help, the stars of hope and happiness now shine into our dark walk with dementia.

* * * * *

If you suspect a loved one may have dementia:

1. Get a diagnosis. See a dementia diagnostic specialist or a neurologist.

2. Find a dementia home care specialist and hire them right away to help you navigate this journey.