Accepting help

A Mom’s Love, unlimited

May 11, 2025

Three decades ago, pregnant and new to Wisconsin, I injured my back. My spouse away, I was grateful for the friends who broke into our house to take care of our toddler and call for an ambulance.

The very next day, Mom flew in from Maine to take care of things while I got back on my feet (literally), and then break me out of the hospital, driving me home in the way back of the minivan to a first floor hospital bed she had procured.

That was Mom’s love: she showed up at the drop of a hat, wherever, whenever, and got the job done.

A year ago, record-breaking weather hit the home in Maine where we’d cared for Mom during her last stretch, in a first floor hospital bed we had procured. I wrote about that journey in Living Is for Living — Mom’s words when I asked for her two cents when Alzheimer’s disease made her health care tricky.

The historic storms and hefty clean-up were a wake-up call. Until then, my spouse and I had assigned what’s next? to the future. Suddenly, it was crystal clear it was time for us to consider our next steps.

In the midst of this, I flew to Wisconsin to be a good grandma and dog sit, a welcome distraction from wild weather stress. Waiting for the plane to de-ice on my homeward trek, I reflected on my attachment to the house we’d so lovingly renovated, which had brought me back to Maine after twenty-five years away. I loved our last chapter living there, with Mom, my husband, our adult kids, friends and pets. It was hard to fathom leaving it, even though Mom and several of the pets had passed on, and the kids had since fanned out far away.

With a heavy heart, I googled “how to let go of a house when you are emotionally attached.” There were lots of good ideas I’d try in the coming year, and I realized it was possible to love a home and its story the way I did and still move on. I just needed to trust that the next chapter could be awesome too.

Just then I looked up to spot, two seats ahead, a baseball cap that read October 15, 1997.

While 1997 didn’t strike a chord, October 15 did. That’s the day Mom had died, in our beloved seaside home, me and the animals at her side.

All of a sudden, I knew without doubt, that Mom was with me, and that she’d continue to be with me, wherever I am and wherever I go.

I don’t need a certain house to keep her close.

That is Mom’s love: it isn’t limited to time or place, it’s with me wherever I am, wherever I go.

Mom’s “Living Is for Living” is all I need to keep her near. This reminder’s helped me through challenges I’ve encountered since, wrapping up the last chapter and turning toward the next, this one yet to be written.

Here’s to a Mom’s love, unlimited — Happy Mother’s Day!

Newest Release…

January 11, 2024

Sharing this book reminds me of opening Sunshine’s crate.

Rather than dashing to the sea, Sunshine peered out, cautiously. When her crate was gently disassembled and she was eased onto the sand, she made her way slowly down the beach, guided by her Marine Mammals of Maine (MMoME) caregivers who shielded her view of the spectators gathered to cheer for her and poolmate Dexxy. When Sunshine made it to the bay, she paused in the shallows while she acclimated to the chilly water, lapping waves, glistening sun. Then she submerged, and off she went.

I can relate to Sunshine’s apparent reluctance, as I release this book I wrote and illustrated about her recovery, from collection to rehabilitation to release. I also received great care along the way and down the homestretch – from my childhood friends Nancy (who illustrated the front cover), Biz (who took photos of the release) and Margie (who cheered my every step), to my editor, Genie Dailey (Fine Points Editorial Services), and my creative coach, Lindy Gifford (www.manifestidentity.com), to the folks at MMoME (who gave the book their thumbs up).

Wanting to get the story and its details right, I too have taken my sweet time before taking the plunge. And just like the time came for Sunshine to swim free, the time has come to set her story free. So here it is, available online and by request at your local book shop. I hope you enjoy!

The Wrap: Douglas the Rabbit’s Winter Holiday Surprise

October 2, 2023

“Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.”—Victor Hugo (1802-1885), author of The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Les Miserables

Across traditions, winter holidays are observed with decorations, foods, gifts, lights, rituals, and visits with family and friends. They celebrate hope and joy, even amidst hardship. In that spirit, I’m excited to offer:

In this last book of the series, Douglas invites the other animals to a gathering that captures the friendships they share. It’s a reminder of the importance of making time for what matters most: Connection to others and the world we share.

This one’s a shout-out to my spouse, Doug, and our children—Siena, Matt, and Garrett—with whom we witness the humor and beauty around us, with special thanks to the sightings that inspired the illustrations: Canadian geese skidding to a stop across fresh ice, paper snowflakes created by the kids from coffee filters, shooting stars streaking across the night sky.

I share this story today, on what would have been Dad’s 90^th birthday, in gratitude for all the ways he made us laugh, including his story-telling, and for encouraging me to tell stories, too.

“Peace and quiet,” he’d say, a twinkle in his eye, when I’d ask him what he wanted for his birthday.

When I ask myself that question, as I approach my sixtieth, what I want is the gift of kindness.

So, in wrapping the Douglas the Rabbit Adventure Series, it makes sense that, even without doing so intentionally, this final story celebrates these three gifts: peace, quiet, and kindness.

I hope you enjoy!

Up next, just in time for Mom’s birthday: Douglas the Rabbit Makes Some Friends

July 19, 2023

Douglas the Rabbit is a character that my dad created when I was a girl. The first book, The Original Douglas the Rabbit Story, introduced Douglas and his adventurous spirit. The second book, Douglas the Rabbit Makes Some Friends, goes back to the previous spring to describe how Douglas befriends a bird, a skunk, a chipmunk, and a fox… a diverse group of animals, for sure.

While the first story stayed true to the story my dad told, this one reflects my own everyday adventures with my family and pets, especially our hamster Mischief who showed us how she could store treats in her cheeks.

And too, it reflects Mom’s GO FOR IT approach to new challenges – which I celebrate today, her 91st birthday.

Click on the book photo to find it on Amazon, or go to your local bookstore and ask for it there. Enjoy!

Introducing my next adventure: The Original Douglas the Rabbit Story

June 6, 2023

When I was young, I loved my dad’s Douglas the Rabbit stories. It’s probably no coincidence that I married a Douglas of my own. When our kids were little, I tucked them into bed at night with Douglas stories too. After my dad died, I decided to write his story down, illustrating it with colored pencils which were easy to use in the midst of our busy family life. I enjoyed this process so much I created three more.

When efforts to publish these stories proved unsuccessful–apparently, he’s not the only rabbit out there!–I tucked that goal away, along with the books, content to share them where I could: with my friend Pam who invited me to read to her second-grade class, with my niece Holly who took Douglas to Tanzania to share with kids there, and with my mom, Laures, who loved to peruse the unpublished books.

Little did my dad know when he made up those stories for us kids, that someday I’d share them with my kids. Little did I know that the stories I wrote to remember my dad after he died, and to save for our kids, would someday entertain my mom (see https://thejoyofcaring.com/2020/04/23/laughter-in-grief-showing-up-the-best-we-can-and-finding-hope-amidst-loss/).

We don’t always anticipate how our dots will connect, only that they somehow do. It’s just plain fun when things turn out all right, after all. In that spirit, I’m excited to offer The Original Douglas the Rabbit Story which celebrates the good things in life: adventure, nature, friendship, homecoming, and more.

You can find The Original Douglas the Rabbit Story at your local book store (just ask) and online at Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, Sherman’s Maine Coast Book Shops, and Bookshop (just click).

And there are three more on the way – Enjoy!

Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story is launched!

November 28, 2022

What I am letting go in publishing this book isn’t Mom; it isn’t my caregiving journey; it isn’t even all the reflection I’ve done along the way. What I am letting go is fear, the what ifs, the wish for one more do-over, choosing, instead, to let love fill our sails:

If you or someone you know is interested in reading Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story, it is available to order at your local book store (just ask) and also online at Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, Sherman’s Maine Coast Book Shops, IndieBound, and Bookshop (just click).

Thank you for your interest and I wish you and your loved ones many blessings this holiday season.

Letting Go, for real

November 6, 2022

As Lindy and I volley last looks at Living Is for Living: a Caregiver’s Story, I wrestle the same old same old: what if my words upset someone, what if there’s a glaring mistake, what if I’m oversharing, what if Mom wouldn’t like what I wrote?

“In the full realization of our repetitiveness, the best thing is to stop saying anything for a while, and in that saying nothing, something begins to break down and opens us up.”—David Whyte, September 2022 Series: Crossing the Unknown Sea, Life and Work as a Pilgrimage of Identity, Session 2

Heeding Whyte’s words, I quiet my anxious mind and observe:

a dear friend, in reference to caring for her father, texts: “I remember you asking me, ‘how do I know when [Mom] is ready to let go’, and I told you ‘you will know because it will just happen naturally'”;

another dear friend, in the midst of caring for her brother, asks about the book and when I share my concerns, offers the warmest of hugs;

searching Mom’s things for the key to her safety deposit box, I discover Henry Van Dyke’s I Am Standing Upon the Seashore, describing a sailboat reaching the horizon: “Gone from my sight. That is all“; and

I meet my brother Dave for breakfast and, still keyless, we make up fun stories about what we might find inside Mom’s box before he asks me about the book and advises me to let it go.

I do realize, all this writing has been a way I’ve continued to care for Mom, even after her death. This book has given me space to visit and revisit our lifetime together; it has helped me to grieve, process, and heal. It’s reminded me to laugh.

What if this next stage, publishing, is less about setting myself off for new horizons, and more about sending off the lessons I’ve learned? What if letting go is really more about handing over, and in so doing, setting free? What if I choose love, not fear? What if it’s all going to be okay?

As Van Dyke concludes: “Her diminished size is in me—not in her. And, just at the moment when someone says, “There, she is gone,” there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”

Book Lay Out: “and” not “or”

September 28, 2022

This last bit, the back and forth with Lindy as she carefully lays out Living Is for Living, word by word, reminds me of childbirth: it requires willingness, focus, patience and humility, in the midst of discomfort and anticipation. There’s the familiar cognitive back and forth: do I hold on or do I let go or am I kidding myself to think I have any control over what happens next, once this book is published.

So what do I do? I nest: I sort trinkets, rehang pictures, rearrange books. I even gladly pause to take my many morning herbs (intended to tame Lyme and other things). And, big surprise, I write : )

Then I remember the notion of AND that I learned in my interfaith chaplaincy studies. What if I swap and for or: I hold on and I let go and I kid myself. This balance of good intention and good humor do seem to come in handy at this moment of delivery.

I’m grateful

that the animals

are right here at my side

and that Lindy is

one heck of a writing midwife,

respecting my perspective and pace,

while attending to every single detail.

We’ll get there—I just gotta trust, breathe, do what I can, and let the process unfold. Speaking of which, back to checking the latest version!

Grief and Guilt, a year later, and the Magic of Fruit Loops, Pivoting, Barking Dogs, Yellow Leaves and Blue Jays

October 12, 2020

As we returned home from an afternoon hike, Siena spotted another Blue Jay, this one perched in a tree at the top of our street. We looked at each other and smiled, understanding that Mom is still right here, with us. We just need to be available to the moment, the best we can.

—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story

Labor of Love, another take on “caregiver burden”

September 10, 2020

Labor Day, after everyone left, leaving me and the dogs, I spent several hours doing the laundry, covering the boat, taking down the flag, moving things around, packing things up. Mom was with me every step of the way I realized as I stored the paddles behind the bathroom door, like she used to do. Sometimes what looks like a burden is actually an opportunity to heal.