Life and Death
Issue 24 covers both (just barely)
Come on, let’s go...
There’s a mouse that walks on our back patio looking for food, unaware he IS food to two of my four children—the two with fur.
We named him Mr. Cheese. His bravery is endearing. His limp is charming.
He lives under a section of our patio where I imagine his friends nominate him to seek the treats and he does.
We hardly know one another, but he’s a few squeaks from joining our family or being destroyed by them. I’ll keep you posted.
Stonehenge
We laid my mom’s gravestone on Saturday. The finishing touches.
She’s among wildflowers, weeds, and rolling hills in a natural cemetery five minutes from my home. It’s perfect. Just perfect.
I had no idea she wanted to be buried. I had no idea I wanted her to be buried.
When she passed, I learned her wishes. “She what?” I said. “Wants to be buried?”
Following a visit to the cemetery, a golf cart ride with Alicia, and money, a lot of money, we were land owners. A 12x12 plot for my mom and her beloved, my step dad (who’s not ready to join her just yet).
Last spring, her body was wrapped in a shroud and laid directly into the ground. No basket or casket or box or barrier between her and the worms. I like this. She’d like this. By now, she’s one with the earth. Perfect.
Her burial is a gift. There’s a spot for us to be together. A respite. A touchdown. I had no idea she wanted this. I had no idea I wanted this. We do!
On this Saturday, skirting the rain, 13* of us arrived mid-day for a casual stone setting. So casual, Owen wore a basketball jersey and Emma wore pompoms.
My mom encouraged self expression, especially in the fashion department. However, her picture-perfect side came out every April when she’d ask if Emma had a dress and Mary Janes for Easter. “Hard no,” I’d say. “I don’t care about Easter, Mom.”
My brother Aaron found a stone, my step-dad and I wrote the words, and Aaron had them sandblasted. I’m simplifying it. He did some of the work himself. No easy feat, especially on a craggy blue-green stone that suits her perfectly.
She told us this before she passed: “If you look, you can always find me in nature.”
Her engraving:
Christine Fitzsimmons
7.1.49 to 4.27.21
Family is her legacy. Nature is her temple.
In the center is an image of Half-Dome in Yosemite, her sanctuary.
It must have been hours before of our arrival, an animal pooped on her grave. Right in the center. Juxtaposing her affinity for Easter dress-up, she fancied animal scat—anything in nature, really.
Perfect!
We spent about an hour saying words that pale in comparison to the way we feel. And, we cried. You know we cried. We topped-off the day with an Indian feast, for no other reason than Indian feasts are good.
She was perfect to me. And I felt perfect to her.
*Big love to my aunt Carol, cousins Carter, and Christian (and his beloved Ali) for flying cross-country for the stone-setting. Your presence was perfection. 💜
There Goes the Yard
We got a trampoline the size of a container ship. I swore I’d never do it, for the aesthetics alone. I caved and the grandparents paid.
Cut to Sunday night, the night I’m writing this section. I’d spent the day doing everything but exercise. By 6:30 pm I’d only stepped 1,300 times.
So… I saddled on my spandex, climbed aboard the trampoline, and jumped until I hit 10,000. At first I felt like a kid. When my undercarriage fell out and I lost feeling in my feet, I felt like I am, 45.
Giddy Up
I didn’t want to get out of bed for my walk this morning. Blame it on Daylight Saving Time. Blame everything on DST.
I went. Obvi, I’m glad I did.
I passed the horses. This time I said hi from afar.
I’m listening to Greenlights by Hottie McHotterson, aka Matthew McConaughey. It’s a fun one, especially on Audible, narrated with Matthew’s charisma and Texas drawl.
Hey Siri
We all like feeling needed, even Siri.
I bark at her often. “Hey Siri, set a timer for X minutes.” Unlike my kids, Siri does it. Immediately.
I’m not lazy. Picking up my phone is a recipe for distraction and I can’t have that when I’m setting a focus timer.
Try it for yourself: Go to iPhone Settings > Siri and Search > Listen for “Hey Siri.”
Now, when you say, “Hey Siri.” he/she/it listens for your command. Enjoy.
Growth Mindset
The next time someone tells you they’re having a baby, say, “You’re having a person.”
They grow.
Your prescription this week: pay compliments. One each day. See you in seven days. With love, off you go!
✍️ As always, you can hire me to write for you. If you’re interested, please fill out this brief form.
I was delayed with this issue, but oh how I cried tears of love and time. You have honored your mom so lovingly. What a perfect place for her. Thank you for sharing.
this was a lovely tribute to your mom. I hope with time it has gotten easier for you to cope with her loss💔