Shuffle

Before my mother became "Mum," she was Audrey, the country cousin on a farm in St. Michael's outside Kewaskum. Shirley was her city cousin in Milwaukee. They resembled each other, petite girls bubbling with laughter. Shirley and Audrey had no sisters and over their years of visits, they became more than sisters, the best of pals. They made their fun outdoors, exploring the barn, ice skating on the frozen river near the farm, or roller skating on sidewalks in Milwaukee. 

The good they die young: my friend Liz Nickel

Elizabeth Ann Nickel, Nov. 22, 1953 - Feb. 17, 2013

You wonder about sayings like "The good they die young." And then you meet someone like Liz Nickel. And then she dies.

Liz's memorial was held last night. It was quiet and unassuming, like Liz. She would have liked it.

I met Liz ten years ago, when my husband and I fell in love with Cajun music. Our friendship with Liz and her husband Tom became linked with all things Cajun.

Remembering a mother who died too young

This is how I spend time with my mother -
I dance the tango
and remember her bossa nova
I harmonize
because that's all she ever did
I paint walls in my house
and see her wearing sandals all splattered
I water my plants
and visit her hospital for violets
I put on an apron
and laugh because she was too modern for aprons
I cook
and taste her every-Monday spaghetti
I watch the white grow into my hair
and see her little fountain of grey
I play with words
and hear her wordplay
I speak mangled German
every word from her
I love my husband and my children
and feel the love she gave all of us
I hug my grandchildren
for her

Having a picnic with Mark & George



Don't read this if you think it's wrong to have a picnic on a grave.

How to write a memory book for a child after the death of a loved one

When a beloved grandparent dies, how do you keep that person’s memory fresh for your child who is very young? I recently talked to Stephanie, a friend who was struggling with her own grief and wondering how her six-year-old daughter would remember Grandpa, who had just died.

I suggested that she interview her daughter about Grandpa, and preserve the girl’s responses in a little memory book complete with family pictures. I told her I’d made memory books for four different children. My hope was that the parents would read the books to their children so the memories would never fade. The grandparents would remain “alive” for the kids as they grew up; the wisdom of the elders would stay vital in the young people's ives.

Stephanie had a lot of questions for me. She wanted a sort of template. So here goes….

They taught us to live

August 22, 2011. On this day thirty-three years ago, I was 27 years old and I got the worst news I ever had: my father, mother, and brother had been killed in an automobile accident in Ontonagon, Michigan. They’d been enjoying a camping and fishing trip. Pop was 51, Mum was 48, and George was 13.