I feel this is the most beautiful writing I've seen of yours. Your thoughts about all the differences that exist together are much like mine. I've actually had moments when I wished I'd been born feral so I would either know how to survive or fail and become prey.
Current events have kept me away from my keyboard even though I know my own thoughts will give me strength to go on.
Thank you for your poignant words. I especially perked up with your two views of advocacy -- rights-based vs needs-based. This is a powerful delineation that gives me more meaning and purpose in my activism efforts. I am definitely going to be adding this difference when I describe why and how I advocate.
Thank you, Lyn for the words that always strike a cord with me.
My mom died a year and a half ago, and I always feel closest to her in nature. She comes to visit as a Cardinal. Sometimes she is alone, and sometimes my father is with her. I miss her every day. It was an honor to take care of her the last two years of her life and to have been with her when she took her last labored breath.
As painful as it was for those who loved her, she was also good at dying. She left this world her way--in her home, and in her chair. Not in a nursing home. The only thing that didn’t happen was a vodka martini with a jalapeño-stuffed olive! We had picked up her hearing aids earlier in the day, so when she paused to catch her breath, she heard her beloved birds before going back into her home.
She was my mom, my next door neighbor, and my best friend. It is physically painful for me to have someone else living in her house. For that reason, we plan to move to Chicago to be close to our youngest son and his wife. It is also where my parents were born, where I grew up, and where my parents ashes are scattered in Lake Michigan. I want to go home.
Whenever I’m there, I go ‘visit’ them. I take my grand dog and my coffee and just remember. Sometimes I talk to them out loud, and sometimes I just talk to them in my heart.
Thank you again Lyn. Everything you post speaks to me in some way. I have been missing my mom a lot lately, so as I sit on my porch watching the birds, I am allowing whatever I feel to bubble over into tears.
Your words strike a chord ,an important chord within me.
I feel myself percolated… as I have spent 67 years on earth, I am searching within as to what my next step will be. I appreciate and respect how you navigate life.
Nature and death...such an impactful combo. I too recently lost my Mom. I am not feeling her in Nature, at least not yet, but I loved hearing about your Mom visiting you through the breeze.
I especially loved how you said you think you'll be good at dying because you've reinvented yourself so many times! I am writing a series about change, running between now and the new year, and would love to have you be a guest on my Substack! Please let me know if you might have the urge to talk more about your process of reinvention.
As always Lyn thank you for your insightful pieces, I enjoy them very much.
Two things I particularly like about this post: your mother in the wind and herbs for the shelter clientele. Must they eat bland, boring food on top of all the other deprivations?
I lost my husband this year. We are both in our late 70s. Growing old is nothing like I anticipated. First of all it hurts. It seems every day. There’s a new little ache and pain to deal with. Secondly, I had anticipated continuing this practice with my wingman. Adjusting to aging alone has me challenged. I have to reinvent the way I think, and what I do. Thanks to good fortune, I have an abundance of loving friends, who are helping me along the path I march on, but not alone.
What an interesting framework -- rights-based advocacy vs needs-based. Given we live in a capitalist society, it seems you'd go insane trying to fight the good fight.
Lyn--I do so love your insightful ways of embracing both nature and death. The circle of life does not end in death--it begins again with the reinvention of our souls. Like so many of your writings, this piece touched deeply. Thank you for that.
What an interesting and comforting perspective: "This observing of nature and being present for the passing of my mother has changed how I think about death. Now I believe death is ultimately a reinvention. It will release my energy into the natural world and undergo a transformation into a new shape or form. This makes me think perhaps I will be good at dying because during my life I have reinvented myself many times. "
Timely for me. I appreciate this description “At the moment of my mother’s death, my hand resting on her chest, I could feel something leave her body, urgent but light and floaty like a breeze.”.
I feel this is the most beautiful writing I've seen of yours. Your thoughts about all the differences that exist together are much like mine. I've actually had moments when I wished I'd been born feral so I would either know how to survive or fail and become prey.
Current events have kept me away from my keyboard even though I know my own thoughts will give me strength to go on.
Thank you for your beauty and your brain.
Thank you for your poignant words. I especially perked up with your two views of advocacy -- rights-based vs needs-based. This is a powerful delineation that gives me more meaning and purpose in my activism efforts. I am definitely going to be adding this difference when I describe why and how I advocate.
Thank you, Lyn for the words that always strike a cord with me.
My mom died a year and a half ago, and I always feel closest to her in nature. She comes to visit as a Cardinal. Sometimes she is alone, and sometimes my father is with her. I miss her every day. It was an honor to take care of her the last two years of her life and to have been with her when she took her last labored breath.
As painful as it was for those who loved her, she was also good at dying. She left this world her way--in her home, and in her chair. Not in a nursing home. The only thing that didn’t happen was a vodka martini with a jalapeño-stuffed olive! We had picked up her hearing aids earlier in the day, so when she paused to catch her breath, she heard her beloved birds before going back into her home.
She was my mom, my next door neighbor, and my best friend. It is physically painful for me to have someone else living in her house. For that reason, we plan to move to Chicago to be close to our youngest son and his wife. It is also where my parents were born, where I grew up, and where my parents ashes are scattered in Lake Michigan. I want to go home.
Whenever I’m there, I go ‘visit’ them. I take my grand dog and my coffee and just remember. Sometimes I talk to them out loud, and sometimes I just talk to them in my heart.
Thank you again Lyn. Everything you post speaks to me in some way. I have been missing my mom a lot lately, so as I sit on my porch watching the birds, I am allowing whatever I feel to bubble over into tears.
I cannot wait to read your book.
Your words strike a chord ,an important chord within me.
I feel myself percolated… as I have spent 67 years on earth, I am searching within as to what my next step will be. I appreciate and respect how you navigate life.
Many thanks!
Nature and death...such an impactful combo. I too recently lost my Mom. I am not feeling her in Nature, at least not yet, but I loved hearing about your Mom visiting you through the breeze.
I especially loved how you said you think you'll be good at dying because you've reinvented yourself so many times! I am writing a series about change, running between now and the new year, and would love to have you be a guest on my Substack! Please let me know if you might have the urge to talk more about your process of reinvention.
As always Lyn thank you for your insightful pieces, I enjoy them very much.
Nicely done Lynn yes please do NOT USE round up or any product like it to remove plants. Very very dangerous, can totally tank immune system.
I enjoyed reading this very much. So much wisdom you’ve shared. Thank you.
Two things I particularly like about this post: your mother in the wind and herbs for the shelter clientele. Must they eat bland, boring food on top of all the other deprivations?
I lost my husband this year. We are both in our late 70s. Growing old is nothing like I anticipated. First of all it hurts. It seems every day. There’s a new little ache and pain to deal with. Secondly, I had anticipated continuing this practice with my wingman. Adjusting to aging alone has me challenged. I have to reinvent the way I think, and what I do. Thanks to good fortune, I have an abundance of loving friends, who are helping me along the path I march on, but not alone.
What an interesting framework -- rights-based advocacy vs needs-based. Given we live in a capitalist society, it seems you'd go insane trying to fight the good fight.
My 92 year old mother has come to live with me. I cannot say with words how much your blog has blessed me with a different perspective. It is a lot.
Lyn--I do so love your insightful ways of embracing both nature and death. The circle of life does not end in death--it begins again with the reinvention of our souls. Like so many of your writings, this piece touched deeply. Thank you for that.
Wonderful post. You touched me.
What an interesting and comforting perspective: "This observing of nature and being present for the passing of my mother has changed how I think about death. Now I believe death is ultimately a reinvention. It will release my energy into the natural world and undergo a transformation into a new shape or form. This makes me think perhaps I will be good at dying because during my life I have reinvented myself many times. "
This is your best piece to date. Thank you!
Timely for me. I appreciate this description “At the moment of my mother’s death, my hand resting on her chest, I could feel something leave her body, urgent but light and floaty like a breeze.”.
Thank you for your words