Coming Back Home, Little By Little

I haven’t written in months. Here’s why.

The past few months have been a challenge, that’s for sure.

My mother died in November, the night before Thanksgiving. It had been a long and sad journey, and it was not an unexpected death. Still, she was Mom. I found myself mute in her absence.

And I have had some crazy medical challenges myself in the past few months, including a tumor on my right acoustic nerve which resulted in many many many conversations that included the words “Huh? What? Say again?” and “Why are you mumbling?”

I find myself contemplating the end of my own life in ways that I never have before. For the very first time in my existence, I thought the other day, “There’s no point in replanting this lilac sprout. I won’t be here to see it bloom.”


That kind of thinking is NOT what I want. Not at all. I want to be the old woman who says, “I will plant you today and someone will love you later!” I want to be the woman who thinks, “Well, life has been great so far! Let’s see what’s next.”

I’m trying to be her. I really am. I think about her. I channel her. I embrace her spirit as I walk around my spring-filled yard.

But sometimes I can’t do it.

Today I was able to embrace that “here I am” woman all day. I pulled some weeds from my perennial beds. I did laundry and I cooked good food for my son and daughter-in-law as they prepare for their first child. I walked the dogs and I looked at the sky. I breathed in the scent of lilac and lily-of-the-valley.

And then I came inside. I turned on the news. I saw that another group of innocent children was slaughtered in their classrooms by an angry man with a lethal weapon.

I broke at that moment. I broke.

I lost my hope. I lost my belief in my country and in my fellow Americans.

So. Here I am. Back in this space where I have found support and encouragement over these many years. I need you all, dear readers. I need a reason to believe that all is not lost.

I am broken.


17 thoughts on “Coming Back Home, Little By Little

  1. One foot in front of the other. We will all hold your hand. You are traveling a road that many of us have been or are on. Together we can make a few more miles. So glad to have you back.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Oh Karen, I think we all need each other to make it through. I am numb, and not just because of the horror from today. Hate and lies and pain seem to be all around. The only thing I can truly offer right now is to tell you that you aren’t alone. Try to find one small positive thing each day.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. ♥️ I wish I could give you a big hug!!! Know that all that follow you are thinking of you, wishing you only the best and will help with anything, you just have to ask! Take it one day at a time and find love and hope in those beautiful grand babies, they are your lights🤗

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Oh dear, I hear your pain & sadness. I can’t believe the US doesn’t change the gun laws, what the hell!? It’s depressing. And the first year of losing a parent is a roller coaster of fragility, as we accept psychologically that we are next in line. I had some grief counseling after my beloved Dad died, that helped me a little bit… but it has taken years, & I still miss him & get teary in random moments. We are all here; we’ve missed you but we get it; & of course a school shooting is going to cascade more grief your way, as a teacher… I’m sorry you are feeling so sad, the losses are relentless as we love & live ❤️ G in Australia 🙏🏼

    Liked by 1 person

  5. So sorry to hear this Karen, I hope you can get treatment to ensure a full recovery, hang in there you will get through this!
    Much love and prayers going your way❤️💕💜🤗🙏

    Liked by 1 person

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