I am lucky enough to live two blocks from the Mississippi River here in Minneapolis. I’m not quite sure why, but I have a love affair with this river. I feel some kind of energetic connection to this artery that flows from the top to bottom of our country. I feel pulled to look at it, see how blue or gray, smooth or choppy the waters are, especially when I drive over the Marshall-Lake Street Bridge and can see a long view of it on both sides. It somehow gives something back to me too. It sparks my creativity; I’ve written a few poems about it too, like this one here. Continue reading
Category: Essay (Page 9 of 12)
It’s two months-plus since my knee replacement and I’m finally be able to cook again — yay! In the last year, anything that involved standing or walking made me wince and have to sit down. I’d been relegated to a sous chef; I could chop things sitting at the table while Bob handled the stove and oven. I do like to cook and bake, so I missed it.
This new development has got me looking at cookbooks again. I do have quite a collection, some favorites, some I’ve never used but want to explore. Just looking at them has me remembering how I taught myself to cook decades ago. Continue reading
Divorce Lesson #8
Dear Reader,
I find myself in the peculiar position of dating my own husband, who is living separately in an apartment across town. I’ve said it before—we are not having any kind of a “typical” divorce. I’m sure that’s been at least a little bit evident, from that first announcement we put out on Facebook and my continued blog posts.
But in the four months since this started, things have morphed and changed as we’ve talked and worked hard on issues that have come up. We’ve had more deeply honest communication, more openness and more tenderness than we’ve had in ages. There’s been self-examination by both of us, a commitment to personal growth, and a willingness to live in a place of uncertainty. And, perhaps ironically, separation. Continue reading
December was a hard, sweet month. Hard for the busyness, the book, the surgery, the time-crunch of the holidays. Sweet for a special get-away we had, touching moments, a loving Christmas, and much closeness. But hard again for the anxious countdown to January.
Bob moved out of our house in early January into an apartment. It was an upsetting time for both of us, a wrenching apart that we knew must happen, even as we’d been relating to each other in new, more honest and tender ways. Living apart is something we both agree will help each of us, individually and together, in the growth we want to happen. Knowing that doesn’t make it any less painful, this big change after 26 years. Continue reading
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