More Than A Chapter

  My older son and I planted a butterfly garden last year. He lined up pavers to segregate the perennials from the annuals and used river rock to design a centerpiece for the water dish, which all butterflies need. My husband bought metal art from a friend of ours, and he gifted them to me on Zane's birthday (butterflies that we staked in the ground). A beautiful friend in Massachusetts, who also lost her son, sent me a packet of butterfly milkweed. Those seeds were the first ones we planted.  My son and I tilled the ground, planted a wide array of seeds, watered, and waited. The bachelor buttons bloomed first, creating an umbrella of shade over the milkweed as their leaves slowly came in. The annuals popped up quickly. There was an occasional four o'clock, which remained for a short time, and then wilted away. A cosmos here and there, but they didn't last long either. The majority of the perennials never sprouted. Soon, the bachelor buttons reached the end of their life, d...

©2020 ClipartPanda.com I've been thinking about this blog a lot lately, wondering why I abandoned it ten months ago. At first, I think it was because I didn't believe I had anything worthwhile to share. I also thought I was coping well with my grief during the first year after losing Zane. Plus, I hadn't yet undergone bilateral mastectomy, so my mind was wrapped up with that.  So, yes--that's part of it.  Also...a lot has happened in ten months. In that time, I've made myself so busy that I didn't want to make space for this blog because it meant viewing grief under a lens. See, the busier I am, the less I have to deal with the pain of loss (primarily over my son, but also over my breasts and the life I new before invasive cancer and cancer treatment).  Here's what I've filled my life with to avoid the pain: Writing (multiple projects) Exercise (including an obsessive need to swim) Gardening Meditation A new business venture (more on this later) Reading ...