Life through my eyes
My mother loved purple and dancing and wildflowers. She didn’t tolerate BS and couldn’t stand people who didn’t do their job well. She often communicated more by her actions than by her words, although she had a few choice words for me when I was growing up. I often heard such things as: “No, … Read more…
We all die from something. Some of us receive advanced notice, and others die in an unexpected instant. My mother was diagnosed with glioblastoma multiforme (an aggressive cancerous brain tumor) in February of 2015. Along with the business of living, she and I have been quietly pondering the business of dying, albeit each in our … Read more…
For most of us growing up in the Dakotas, we’re only a few generations removed from those who tamed the virgin prairies with plows or fed the nations’ city dwellers with beef, wheat, corn, and pork. Our grandparents, great and great-great grandparents were farmers and ranchers or they were small town merchants who brought plumbing … Read more…