Each morning, she gingerly pops her head out from the red birdhouse hanging next to our sun room. She is like a live cuckoo clock in our backyard. I believe she dons a wry smile to be living in the penthouse of birdhouses and looks to the heavens to thank her lucky stars for another night of safety before taking her morning flight. This, of course, is pure conjecture on my part or perhaps transference for I feel blessed to live here in such beauty. After a brief sprint around the yard to test her wings and sample the weather, she perches on top of the umbrella and begins her morning concert. Such a tiny bird, such a spirited and strong voice and we listen her devoted audience. She reminds me to take the time to listen, to be aware of the voices of all, and to open the  space for other’s to spread their wings and sing their song especially those that may go unnoticed.

Posted by: Anne

No humidity, cool breezes, playful birds, wispy butterflies and swaying flowers greet me this morning. With my cup of coffee, I am on sacred ground in the sanctuary of our backyard. I am reminded of the Buddhist tradition, “Don’t think. See.” Rather than take the simple advice as given, I ponder (really I am thinking, oops!), does this me with my eyes only or does seeing rest in my heart and soul?

My reality is that I see very little with my eyes only. I see with my heart. When I look on the backyard, I see my loved ones who are no longer physically with me. I see Jana in the memory of her September wedding in the backyard, in the robust cardinal that nest in the tree, and in the praying spot of shells and stones. I see her mom and my love Carolyn in the breeze and the hawk, in the m and I see my Dad in his shorts bear chested with paper towel sticking out of his back pocket drinking his iced tea. I see the loss of  those closest to my heart who totally knew, loved and accepted me and today I see gratitude for having experienced such deep love in my life.

Today I also am blessed to see the evolution of life as my niece Nicole has grown and matured. She will marry in September and today is her bridal shower. There will be no tears only happiness and joy for the road she has traveled to come home. I am blessed to see the love surrounding me in my relationships and life.

Posted by: Anne

It has been a year since I moved from Winterthur leaving on summer solstice. Ironically, I moved to Winterthur 9 years earlier on winter solstice. Over those years, I walked every path, knew the bends and turns, where majestic trees had fallen yet each season surprised me with a new discovery of a plant or flower that I had not previously been acquainted.

Over those years, I walked with many friends and colleagues. The avid garden who named each plant, the street poet whose lyrical voice made our walks more like a dance but mostly I walked alone and no matter what path I walked, each path led to my heart.

Today, I am grateful for knowing my heart- my capacity to love and grieve, remember and dream, live and hope.

Posted by: Anne

This morning, I am weepy remembering Jana. Whenever I close my eyes, I see her radiant cheerful smile. I am grateful that I have this image of her to remember and not the image of her body with chemo. Truthfully I would rather just have her here on this earth. As beautiful as the garden is this year, particularly lush with flowers, I find little comfort. This time last year Jana was taking Natalie to basketball camp at Duke University. None of us knew or anticipated that she would not be here today. I cannot reconcile her death, her illness, and ultimate loss. It has taken me to another stage of life beyond adulthood to feeling very old.

Like a current, an underground stream, grief runs through me as I live in the world celebrating summer solstice and the summer season.

Posted by: Anne

There are bird songs like the cardinal’s that I know instantly. Though I might not be able to locate her in the lush growth of the tree, I know she is there and this knowing brings me a comfort and peace.

Many years ago Carolyn and I went to the mountains of Asheville, NC to Penland School of Arts for two weeks. Carolyn took basekt making and wove incredibly artistic baskets with unique designs while I took blacksmithing and made crudely shapped tools and rustic metal flowers. On our breaks we would sit overlooking the beautiful mountains.  An elderly woman in her class who sat with us, would always pause and ask us to listen whenever she heard a robin’s song. She would say”the song of the robin is the sweetest of all the birds” and her smile radiated with happiness, contentment and a memory that took her to a place that she did not share with us.

Today, the song of the cardinal brings me to a memory and a remembering that I would not be inclined to share with companions when listening. With age, I have learned the sanctity and fragility of the heart.

Posted by: Anne

Yesterday morning I had breakfast with a dear friend who in another lifetime, eons ago, was my boss. The people who worked together then have remained good friends over 20 years. There is something very beautiful in the longevity of relationships. It is like taking a walk in the woods on a well worn path where you know the trees, the flowers, the bends in the road and find great comfort. Now more than ever I seek the comfort of dear friends.

Posted by: Anne

The sun is rising a little farther north this time of year. I mark the slow movement of the sun along the eastern horizon by the light coming through the trees into my windows. In the winter the sun is like a direct bolt through my side window and by summer first light comes through the north window. No matter what window, I feel bathed in the warmth and the glow of the early morning sun reminding me of the richness of life.

Today I am reminded of how little attention I have given to the birds and the trees as of late and understandably so. In my grief and deep sorrow, the spring flowers with different blooms almost daily have showered me with consolation and for this I am grateful. I am reminded painfully of the short life cycle that some flowers have, Jana, the exquisite rose in my life garden, had a much too short cycle.

Posted by: Anne

To witness the grief of a child for her mother is to feel an unbearable sense of loss. It is like the wave of the ocean with a current that is so much stronger than you perceived and it just takes you, tumbles you all around and spits you out in a totally different place.

Yesterday, Natalie shared that it has been just one month since her mom died of cancer but it feels like such a much longer time. Then she said, “but this is for the rest of my life.” With insight and wisdom beyond her years, Natalie shared that she knew she would miss her mom on the big events in her life like graduation from high school, going to college and getting married but what she really missed was her mom in the day, the little things they would do together and how her mom was just ther for her. If she was bored, she would think up fun things for them to do. At night, they would lay in bed and talk and talk then realize it was way past her bedtime and she should have been asleep hours ago.

Then we sat with the memory and the loss.

Posted by: Anne

Today is filled with daily chores but the sun invites me to play and enjoy a walk in the woods and gardens at Winterthur where I can get lost in my heart, soul, feelings and meandering thoughts.

Posted by: Anne