Encountering Grace

It's Your Fault . . . "

Yep, that’s how the latest email began . . . all in shouty, bold letters. I tried digesting the phrase, rolled it around in my head a bit and then just sat with it. It became probable truth as my old nemesis, perfectionism, joined forces with the insecurities that survive, alive and kicking, within my introverted self. And through their critical lenses the actions of my last several months started to play across the landscape of my writer’s life. My mind generated a well full of questions, each bubbling up to ask what more I could have accomplished. I supposed it must be true . . . as an author, I am at fault; I’m simply not doing, not being, enough. I took a moment to look back at the email

Hello Judy . . . always sending you love

My story, with Judy at its center, is just a slice of my amazing cousin’s life. Her full story will always remain big and bold, colorful, generous and loving . . . and valiant. Judy, both cousin and friend, was falling more deeply into the morass of Alzheimer’s. So, I decided to travel the miles necessary to spend time with her, to remember with her, to say hello again to some longtime, well-loved memories we had shared. At the same time, I knew I might need to face the truth that this visit could also hold our goodbye. That delicate time together flooded back to me this summer, full of heart-felt impressions of two women who shared a history, loved each other and didn’t quite know what to m

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