Write On Wednesday: Nourishing Words

I’ve been obsessed with food for the past 18 months. 

Perhaps I should say I’ve been obsessed with other people’s food: for months and months one of my dogs was so fussy about eating that he made himself sick. My mom’s diminishing appetite led to anemia and dehydration, causing a fainting spell that sent her to the ER. Now my husband has been prescribed a strict low-sodium diet, which involves learning to cook and eat in an entirely new way.

I spend a lot of time researching various diets, planning meals, coaxing those who aren’t hungry and don’t want to eat while attempting to appease the one who is very hungry and can’t eat the things he wants. With all this concern about food comes anxiety. With anxiety comes loss of appetite (at least it does for me). 

In all the confusion about making sure everyone else eats correctly, I’ve been failing to eat correctly myself. And isn’t that always the way. Those of us whose primary focus is caregiving often forget to take care of ourselves primarily.

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On Aging: Stuck in the Middle With You (and you, and you, and you...)

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There’s a ton of us stuck in the middle together. Even just among myself and my friends, it would take more than the fingers and toes on both sides of my body to count the number of us who are trying to balance caring for aging parents with the needs of our own personal relationships, our children, our grandchildren. 

Not to mention, our own very personal needs and desires.

Balance is the key word to maintaining our equilibrium in the middle of this see-saw. It always feels a little precarious for me, and in the past week, one end of mine came to a thud on the ground.

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Leaving Home

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A friend writes of helping her daughter move out of state, writes of the empty space she anticipates this will leave in her home and her life. I recall a conversation we had a few months ago when we spoke of this daughter, a beautiful young woman in her early 20’s, an only child who was living at home after college, working and beginning to make her way in the world. At that point in time, her mother was both grateful she was still at home, but also just a little concerned, knowing it is important for young people to find their independence, to have a life of their own apart from their parents.

“I don’t want her to move out, not really,” my friend said, “but at the same time I feel as if she should.” 

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Write On Wednesday: Inspired by Play

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Imagine a decrepit old house, long vacant, with pane-less windows staring gap-toothed from weathered and rotting boards. An old house destined for demolition in an historic neighborhood just shy of the Detroit city limits. An eyesore by most sane person’s standards, yes? 

But Lisa Waud, a floral Artist (with a capital A) saw possibility, saw opportunity, saw potential for beauty in many senses of the word. She bought the house, paid all of $250 for it, and launched a plan to gather her colleagues in the world of floral design and fill the house with flowers, make it a huge artistic installation of floral beauty.

The Sunday Salon: Riding the M Train

You all know I read a lot of memoirs. A good memoir for me takes a slice of the writer’s life and illuminates a deeper and more universal meaning. A good memoir is honest and vulnerable, seeking to understand, to share experience. A good memoir says “Come sit with me, let me tell you what happened, where I’ve been, what I’ve learned. Let me show you something about yourself you might recognize."

 M Train is a good memoir.