My earliest recollection of doctor’s offices were happy ones. My mom would drive me to Dr. Stagg’s. While she talked to the nurse – an older woman in a white uniform with white shoes and a funny white hat that looked a little like the front part of a sailor’s … Read the rest

The memorial service takes place almost a week after Memorial Day. People in sober suits and dark dresses mill about in groups talking quietly, listening, nodding. Some recognize, and some I don’t. We’re all in long white room filled with chairs. At one end, a handful of floral arrangements surround … Read the rest

“My speech is imperfect. Not because I want to shine with words, but out of the impossibility of finding those words, I speak in images. With nothing else can I express the words from the depths.”

Carl Jung