I'm a big fan of Brooke Barker and I'm so glad her latest newsletter was helpful too. I found it thought-provoking. Sending love and kindness to you. May you be filled with love and light.
the utility of writing comes full force when an outlet, an understanding, and a way back to one's self is needed in the flailing, wailing journey through grief... May you feel peace in his passage eventually.
As always Betsy you offer much to reflect on and I love you for that. Never overbearing and I love you for that. I wish you, your husband and family, well as you adjust to a life in which you will see the world a little differently.🐰
I have been thinking of you, and hoping you were well—it’s what brought me back to Substack this week after some time away. In case it helps, one of my comfort books is a collection of gardening essays (“Green Thoughts,” by Eleanor Perenyi). The unrelenting cycles of nature are always good for grounding, and Perenyi’s tone has an unsentimental practicality that I find bracing and comforting at the same time. Maybe this is my inner New Englander responding, but the book may speak to you too. Take care of yourself right now.
Ultimate go-to-for-comfort book: "Thidwick, the Big-Hearted Moose," by Dr. Seuss. I read it first when I was six or seven. It's about keeping things in proportion, rejecting unreasonable demands, being yourself. I read it to my own kids, and now have the pleasure of reading it to my grandson, 5. They think I'm doing it for THEM.
I'm aching for you still but also grateful for your baby steps back to "normal life" and for always sharing something I need each time I read Spark. Today it was sharing Tom Cox's Substack because what I needed was to laugh until I wept. Thank you.
When family is involved, and they go crazy, or stupid, or act out, I reach for David Sedaris, & re-read something like "Me Talk Pretty One Day," or others in his stockpile. After reading, my emotional burden is lighter, and as I wipe away the tears, I'm better prepared for the next day (what doesn't kill you makes you stronger).
Oh Elizabeth, I am so very sorry for this immeasurable loss. I may have to take the long flight home to Manila to see my mother, whose health is failing. Did you know airlines have something called “bereavement flights?” Who knew even corporations had hearts.
Thank you for tip-toeing back & for sharing these things - especially this Wendell Berry poem, something I needed today. Wishing you peace and comfort.
Dear Betsy, I missed the devastating news about the loss of your brother. What a blow. I’m sorry you will not grow old together, sharing books and memories.
"the tug one feels between the place that nurtures and forms you and the places you find elsewhere and make your own"
I feel like my writing and life are in this same tension of the in-between
PS: I loved the VIEW from your mother's house; it's quite stunning.
I'm a big fan of Brooke Barker and I'm so glad her latest newsletter was helpful too. I found it thought-provoking. Sending love and kindness to you. May you be filled with love and light.
the utility of writing comes full force when an outlet, an understanding, and a way back to one's self is needed in the flailing, wailing journey through grief... May you feel peace in his passage eventually.
All the love to you and your family, Betsy.
As always Betsy you offer much to reflect on and I love you for that. Never overbearing and I love you for that. I wish you, your husband and family, well as you adjust to a life in which you will see the world a little differently.🐰
I have been thinking of you, and hoping you were well—it’s what brought me back to Substack this week after some time away. In case it helps, one of my comfort books is a collection of gardening essays (“Green Thoughts,” by Eleanor Perenyi). The unrelenting cycles of nature are always good for grounding, and Perenyi’s tone has an unsentimental practicality that I find bracing and comforting at the same time. Maybe this is my inner New Englander responding, but the book may speak to you too. Take care of yourself right now.
Ultimate go-to-for-comfort book: "Thidwick, the Big-Hearted Moose," by Dr. Seuss. I read it first when I was six or seven. It's about keeping things in proportion, rejecting unreasonable demands, being yourself. I read it to my own kids, and now have the pleasure of reading it to my grandson, 5. They think I'm doing it for THEM.
I'm aching for you still but also grateful for your baby steps back to "normal life" and for always sharing something I need each time I read Spark. Today it was sharing Tom Cox's Substack because what I needed was to laugh until I wept. Thank you.
When family is involved, and they go crazy, or stupid, or act out, I reach for David Sedaris, & re-read something like "Me Talk Pretty One Day," or others in his stockpile. After reading, my emotional burden is lighter, and as I wipe away the tears, I'm better prepared for the next day (what doesn't kill you makes you stronger).
Oh Elizabeth, I am so very sorry for this immeasurable loss. I may have to take the long flight home to Manila to see my mother, whose health is failing. Did you know airlines have something called “bereavement flights?” Who knew even corporations had hearts.
Your tip toeing back shows so much wisdom and so much loving care for yourself!
Thank you for tip-toeing back & for sharing these things - especially this Wendell Berry poem, something I needed today. Wishing you peace and comfort.
Love Ozeki. Sorry you’re going throw it. I’d be devastated too if my brother died. Do you believe in reincarnation? That gives me optimism.
baby steps, indeed, betsy....sending love, as ever....
Dear Betsy, I missed the devastating news about the loss of your brother. What a blow. I’m sorry you will not grow old together, sharing books and memories.