Stain-glass Eyes

Today is the 10th anniversary of my husband’s death.   I saw him vividly in a dream a few days ago. The first time in a very long time. I miss him when I take time to remember our love, the friendship we developed and the family we raised together.   I try not to dwell on the sad part of losing him. But it’s still tough not to tear up when I let myself go back in time. I know the memories I have are now muddled with romantic powdered sugar. The trying times have been given a buzz-cut long ago. I know he’s not coming back. I’m not angry about his parting anymore. I believe his death gave me the springboard to jump forward and create a satisfying life without him. My quandary is how to take the time to grieve. It surprises me how powerful grief can be when I do. Do I unlock and open the door? Or do I walk by and let the dust form without my attention?   I have a little Irish sprite inside of me. It encourages me to unlock and op...

My daughter, Elizabeth, graduated from the University of California, Irvine, this past weekend. Seeing her march up to the stage with other graduates was a huge moment for me. It was a memory I won’t ever forget. https://uci.stageclip.com/ clip/elizabeth-deluca-43pm3/ I’m pretty sure it was high on the scale of wonderful for her, too, even if the cap and gown and pomp and circumstance isn’t really her thing.   I have watched her determination and hard work for many years. Her high school honors, her undergrad work at Michigan State University. Her work at the University of Chicago for her Master’s degree and now her doctorate from UCI.   For her to have vision and strength to get herself to the top of all those mountaintops is incredible. And certainly not all of those peaks were a straight climb up.   She’s had to navigate many detours.     I’ve always been able to see the compassion in her, which to me is an accom...

It fascinates me when people ask, “What do you do for a living?” What happens when someone is working more than one job?   Or pursuing higher education along with having a job to pay the bills? I’d like to answer, “Take care of myself.” Instead I usually explain I spent years teaching elementary-age kids and I’m retired.   The problem with the easy way out is I don’t believe what I accomplished in the past is something I can rest my laurels on now. I’m proud of my past career, but what I do as a retired person has value too. The pressure of explaining “Making a living,” could just be in my head. If I feel inferior to a working person then I believe I’m less important or what I do is less valuable because it has no monetary value. Less viable.   Neither of these are true.   I consider being a musician, writer, parent, daughter, sister, friend and community member valuable. As is taking care of myself. I don’t like the word...

Silence grips the whole of me. Not like a vice, But like a hand. It gently reaches out to stop my anxiety descent. Water encases me. Not like ice on a river, But with fingers of silk. It folds over my skin, To keep my sanity afloat. Silence hugs me down. It doesn’t pin me, But sets me on my back.   My chest becomes a dance floor As hundreds of tiny sprites Ignite my heart with their steps. Love captivates me. It doesn’t suck me through a straw And swallow me alive. Like a hammock it surrounds my heart. And swings back and forth, Back and forth… Its rhythm lulls me to smile. Silence centers me. Not like a soldier ready to salute me, But like a wee bird, It slowly chips away from inside my fragile shell. And gives me fearless possibility.

I’ve written about the loss of my husband, Harry, in this blogpost. The rippling effect it has caused over the years.   I also kept a journal to express myself. I knew family and friends were tired of hearing about what I was going through.   (No, they never said, but I knew after awhile they wanted me to move on) This is the first time I’ve been published, though. I admit it’s pretty exciting for me.   I flew to New York City to attend the book publishing party for Widow’s Words , this last weekend.   My essay, “Becoming Maggie” explains some of the coping-ripples I went through after Harry’s death. Elizabeth Posted this on Instagram My daughter Elizabeth, (who lives in Brooklyn), went with me to the publishing party. She’s the one who encouraged me to submit my writing. She’s always believed in my ability to give voice to what happens in my life. When the two of us walked up to the apartment building (for the party), we had s...

It boggles my mind how easy it is to forget the hugeness of the U.S.A. when I travel. It took three hours to fly to Austin, Texas last week.   The differences in terrain, climate and culture were pretty huge, too, going from Southeastern Michigan to Texas.   I left humid, cool temperatures of spring, in Michigan, to dry, warm summer temperatures. Met Holden at Juan in a Million Restaurant I went to Austin to see my son, Holden, perform in an opera at the University of Texas, Austin.   Good Country is a new chamber opera presented for the first time at The Cohen New Works Festival. My son sang and acted the lead part of “Charley”, the stage coach driver, based on true historical facts of Charley Parkhurst, a trans-person, who lived in the 1800s. Empty Stage Before Opera Begins I knew Holden had collaborated with writers of this opera beforehand to give the composers input on real-life experience of being trans. They also learned about hi...

Spring has arrived with a cold bite of wind, but there’s no turning back now.   The birds, plants   and trees have already committed to snuffing winter out!   I’m looking ahead to April and May. They’re as full of spring’s promise as the migrating birds I’ve seen lately. April will bring me to Austin,Texas.   I have plans to be at the premier when my son Holden appears on stage. I included the link to the opera, for my readers, (scroll down to see “Good Country”). https://theatredance.utexas.edu/stage/cohen-new-works-festival/2019-cohen-new-works-festival/2019-festival-lineup Good Country is a chamber opera based on true accounts of Charley Parkhurst, a trans* stagecoach driver during the California Gold Rush. After surviving a holdup, Charley and his passengers tumble into a saloon for a night of revelry and revelations set to a score by Keith Allegretti, libretto by Cecelia Raker, and stage direction by Alice Stanley. Internationally accla...