May 31, 2014

Slipping Away

Bubs, our lovable and entertaining calico, of 16 years, made her exit on Thursday. After seven days without food, it became clear that she wasn't letting go with ease and needed to be put down. For me, it was in-part, a real-life primer on holding someone's hand; while they made their way to let go of ours.

#ladyinwaiting  #hospicecare #sweetsixteen
Even if you aren't an animal lover, I imagine you probably understand how I feel. I've been trying to appease myself with visions of a new kitten, or two, taking her place, but the reality is, I think it's good to wait a bit. They will have some very big shoes to fill.

Coinciding with this, we received our 8th lab report for the natural food product that my business partner and I have been trying to launch the past 2.5 years. It was more bad news. I've kind of seen the writing on the wall, in several ways, the last few months. Just haven't wanted to let go of something that I have loved and believed in so much- or of our branding that I've thought is, for lack of a better word, awesome (thanks to my "mad man" partner).

I'll be back.....just need to go and cry in my soup for a bit.

Thank you for listening to my woes,

May 22, 2014

In the End

Unless of course 

we're talking about love and gratitude,

or fresh air,

or self-care. 

The secret to having it all

is knowing 

that we already do.

May 14, 2014

When the Dots Line Up

I've been yearning to write. Kind of like how I frequently crave making something, or going on a long hard run, or searching for some sort of intimacy with another human being. You know, that feeling that we reach for in our day, as we put one foot in front of the other, hoping to make all the puzzle pieces fit. Honestly, sometimes when I put a piece of chocolate in my mouth it almost feels like a mini-accomplishment of what I am subconsciously trying to achieve. When all the dots line up and we find ourselves in a blissful state. I think it's called "being in the zone." Kind of feels like being in love. I like how, as we grow older, that feeling in love doesn't necessarily have to have anything to do with an actual relationship. Maybe it's just holding a newborn baby or seeing a teeny tiny rabbit in the garden. Maybe it's making something with our hands or simply listening to a song. Yesterday, as all the trees and flowers were brilliantly bursting from their buds, I sat back, and looked at all that laid before me. Enamored and suddenly at peace. Contently, in love.

May 09, 2014

Mom Was No Poet: A Daughter Remembers Her Mother

Happy Mother's Day. This week's post is written by my dear old friend Chris Radant, who wrote the original short story for the movie Home For the Holidays.

We called her “Sarge.”

My brothers and I knew her unflappable love for us, as well as the part that was highly flappable. Her jaw would set, her mouth would pucker and rise up a half inch closer to her nose and her voice….ho boy, that voice. And words only sailors used. Hazel Kay Radant in the house!

Heels would click, children would salute and scurry, apologize and know full well that the love didn't go away.

She used to pull me up onto her lap, show me the “learn to draw ad” in the back of a magazine, put a pencil in my hand and things got really quiet. “Let’s draw pretty girls, honey,” she said each time.

I had a bedroom in the attic where I assumed the pitched ceiling over my bed to have been built expressly for me. I could rest my chin on the windowsill between my chenille-covered twin beds. With a pillow under my knees, I knelt there like I was taking communion and watched the drive-in theater’s movies.
In the summer, I could even hear them.
That’s how I learned about the big world outside our housing plan in Columbus, Ohio.

She’d call me down into reality, to wash the dishes, watch my little brother. I hated her cooking…food from cans and boxes, ‘50s style. “Set the table, punkin’ and get the box of mashed potatoes out for me and the squirt cheese.” We ate what was squirted in front of us… or so Mom thought.

All the quirks made life interesting and taught my brothers and me to be ready for anything. And thanks to Sarge, I can draw now. Today, I’m an artist and writer living on Martha's Vineyard.

Drawing by Chris Radant

Special thanks to the Martha's Vineyard Times.