On This Miraculous Planet, On Real Food, On Union with all that is
“Okay, we are going to do this one more time.”
“NO Momma!!! I want to do this ONE more time!!” Indignation and outrage limned the Bean’s features.
“Did you listen to what I said?”
“Sorry?”
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“How long are you here?”
“We are here for four and a half weeks. It is our homeschooling summer break.”
“That is super cool.”
And it was.
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Dearest Beloveds,
If you choose to spend rainy afternoons as adults reading these letters (and maybe my book) from your Momma than you will have gathered by now that I am what is known as a cancer survivor.
I don’t like labels.
That label to me immediately evokes infusion machines, anti-nausea medication, and pit of my stomach fear. “Survivor” is not much better as a label.
Survivor of what? Of life? Of the human experience? You might as well say that every person on this planet is a survivor of one thing or another.
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Dearest Beloveds,
We started giving you two an allowance starting about a year ago to motivate table setting, dishwasher emptying, dog feeding, general chores, and collecting of eggs. This past summer the two of you purchased your first tokens of commerce at CVS.
“Really, you want to spend your money on that?”
“Momma, I love it!”
“You have a closet full of stuffies. It is made out of plastic which is poisoning the earth. It came from China on a big ship that pollutes the air and water. It is going to end up in a landfill and poison the earth more as it decomposes. Are you sure?”
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My life vision is to love, be curious, identify my Cranky Monster, and be brave enough to speak from and for The Good.
Click here for more about me.
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