Years ago I started writing a memoir about our autism journey. I’ve struggled in the process, not sure if I had the right to speak for the whole family, given so many details were intensely personal. There are however a few chapters that I felt were really good – but didn’t know if they’d ever be read. “The Little Bus” was one of those chapters. When my friend Kristi, from Finding Ninee, asked me to contribute to her Our Land Series, I knew I had the piece. I’m going to use Kristi’s words to describe Our Land:
“One day, I wrote a post called The Land of Empathy and Wonder, wondering how my little boy sees the world. In marveling at the beauty in which he looks at life, I declared that I want to live in Our Land – a place where empathy and wonder rule. Where quirks and differences are celebrated and everybody is appreciated for his own uniqueness.
This land exists. It exists right now in some of you, if only ideally. We, my friends, have the power to transform our worlds, our ideal places, and our homes into The Land of Empathy and Wonder.”
So please join me over at Finding Ninee, to read The Little Bus.
I’m over at the Family Legacy Center today, talking about how I’ve made the extra effort to have family dinners multiple times a week – as a part of our family’s legacy.
I watched a lot of television when I was growing up, especially the family shows like, The Brady Bunch, Leave It to Beaver and Eight Is Enough. My favorite scenes took place at the dinner table. Whether it was a family feud or a cheerful gathering, I was enthralled. I romanticized the “iconic family dinner,” probably because my family rarely sat down and ate together. My dad worked nights and my mom dined with him when he got home, which was always after my brother and I had gone to bed. For some reason, at our house the family dinner was never a priority. This is probably why I’d get so excited whenever I was invited to dinner at friends’ homes.
Before I had children, I vowed that when I did, I’d cook every night and we’d eat together as a family. So I was very surprised when I realized that this didn’t often occur in our house. And believe me, I have tons of excuses – some good, some lame. Suffice it to say, my family was so not The Brady Bunch.
Please join me over at the Family Legacy Center to continue reading this post. See you there!
The lovely Kerri Ames (and fellow Cape Codder) invited me to write a post for her My Challenge series that she features on her blog, Undiagnosed But Okay. I’m so excited, as this is my first guest post at a personal blog! It’s an honor to be approached by a writer you admire. So if you want to know what my challenge is (hint below), hop on over to Kerri’s blog, to read my essay. See you there!
This summer, my friend Julie lost her husband, Mike. Julie is the publisher of My Forsyth magazine, where I’m a contributing writer. Julie is generous and kind, and from all the tributes I’ve read, so was her husband Mike. Grief is complicated and personal and I hope and pray my friend will soon find some peace. In this month’s issue of My Forsyth, Julie honored her husband by featuring an essay he wrote a few years ago, after losing a friend. I was deeply touched by the article. In the wake of Mike’s passing, his words are haunting – and beautiful. With Julie’s blessing, I’ve featured his essay here at the LKM to honor him. I hope you’ll read it.
“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.”
In Remembrance of Mike Brennan
Passings & Crossings
This month marks the anniversary of the passing of fine man who I am privileged to have had as a friend, even for a short time. Thinking of him caused a gallery of other faces to appear and linger a while in my thoughts – family, friends, and loved ones who enriched my life for all too short a time before crossing over to what lies beyond. Continue reading Guest Post: Passings & Crossings