Let Us Never Forget


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Where Have You Been?

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It’s been a week since my mom passed quietly from this earth. The last few months have been awful. Those last few weeks had been agonizing. Those last three days, nothing short of torture. For me, at least. Mom was surrounded by some of the most compassionate caregivers I could have wished for. I cannot say enough wonderful things about the staff of Evergreen Personal Care Home and Bethany Hospice. I watched you treat my mom with dignity and respect, love and honor in her final days. And you held me together too. My mom was tough. She was also chronically late. In the last few weeks and days, we wondered how she managed to hang on. There couldn’t be much keeping her alive. A couple of times, she seemed to be looking at something/someone over in the corner of the room. My dad, I’m sure. Once while I was sitting alone with her, I had a little talk with Dad, pleading with him to take her and end her suffering here. Then I remembered something. I flashed back to ...
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A New Face

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I've been hearing over and over lately that I need to get new headshots done. People who only know me from my online presence complain when they meet me that I don't look anything like my picture. Hmmm. Is that good or bad? I'm still not sure. However, the fact that I now wear my hair a lot longer than I used to is a fact I can't deny. The problem with new photos is...well, I'm older than I was when I had those last ones done. If I could get away with posting a picture of me when I was 25, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Seriously, inside my head, that's still what I look like. Outside? Not so much. But I caved in this weekend. After shooting over 60 frames, I came up with four that I like. So I'm posting them here and asking for a vote. Which ONE photo should be my new "face" for my online persona? Choice #1 Choice #2 Choice #3 Choice #4 Leave a comment with your favorite. Okay, I get to make the final decision, so this...
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The 2010 Confluence Writers' Retreat and Flood

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For days, the weathermen had been forecasting “THE FLOOD.” With melting snow pack combined with heavy rains, they were suggesting everyone pack up the women and children and move to high ground. Of course, our writers’ retreat was scheduled to be held at Paddler’s Lane , on the scenic banks of the Youghiogheny River in Confluence. “Confluence.” As in the point where the Yough (pronounced “Yawk”) is joined by the Casselman River and the Laurel Hills Creek. As in the place I spend a large portion of my summer at our camp. I scoffed at the panic mongers. Flood? Heck, it floods every spring. I ain’t afraid of no stinking flood. So off I went. Loaded up the car Friday morning under sunny skies and headed east, with joy in my heart. A whole weekend with my Sisters in Crime in a gorgeous house with lots of food. And writing. Oh, yeah. Lots of writing and—better yet—workshops with Ramona Long . First stop: Panera Bread in Uniontown where I met Sandy Stephen, Susan “ West of Mars ” Gottfried, a...
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