Dogs and Heaven and Alice McDermott

In her wonderful book about writing, What About the Baby? Alice McDermott tells us a story she read in an Irish magazine about a man who finds himself walking along a road with his childhood dog. The man realizes he’s dead, because of how long the dog’s been dead. How glad he is to see his…

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To Go Gently, Or Not? Thoughts on Impermanence

I have a dear friend, Mark, who may be one of the most compassionate, kind, and intelligent people I know. He is also very tall and absurdly handsome. (How he will guffaw if he reads that last bit!)  He tells many interesting stories, and this is one of them: Once, back when he was a…

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This Year, Justice And Mercy #1

After not getting to sleep until 3 am (thank you, neighbors, who love fireworks and guns), I woke up groggy this New Year morning, but with the word ‘mercy’ echoing through my mind. Why? Not sure, but it may have to do with a comet, a pig, and a mouse. (More later.) I’m trying to…

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Samhain and the Ghosts of Our Past/Present

I love this time of the year. The next few days — call them Halloween or Samhain or All Hallow’s Eve or Calan Gaeaf or Nights of the Dead — are also a time of remembrance of those who have gone through the veil to the Next World, and to honor them, to listen to the…

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Mael Brigde, Tending Brigid’s Flame

Today I’m delighted to offer you this guest blog by my friend, Mael Brigide. Mael is a writer, poet, thinker, devotee of the Irish goddess/saint Brigid. As those of you who come here regularly know, I am always interested in matters of faith, especially when they coincide with literature. Mael’s journey to a place of faith…

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Age – What a Strange Journey

Age. What a strange and profound journey, for those of us lucky to live so long. I’ve 65. I’m been post-menopause for a decade. Things change. A hip replacement (ballet dancer as a girl — not good for the hips, especially without a natural turnout). Probably another one in the near future. I actually hobble,…

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Even So… #22

Day ? of the plague. It’s been a while. A long while. What have I been doing? Well, it’s been a slog and a trudge and a period of toil, just to keep my head above water. Has it felt like that for you as well? Even so, I have tried to keep writing and…

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Even So…#8

Day ? of the pandemic. The storms roll in, tornado warnings and flooding, devastation for so many in the south, although you’d think plagues would be enough, and everyone pitches in to help, even so. And when the storms rolled out, the sun returned, the grass was crystal-speckled and the air smelled of grass and…

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Even So …#7

Day ? of the plague. It’s Easter, even so. The Child of Light returns, in spite of everything. At the end of my street, a lone woman rings a big brass bell at the end of her driveway, to mark the moment, not forgetting, even so. The symbol of the promise that we will die…

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