Hey Mom; we did it. I want to believe that some part of you felt the energy too. I did dream about you last night, but without reference to our book. I’ll keep waiting. If you had been with us in person, I’m certain you too would deem the events to be complete and heartfelt.

At the moment I was writing this (okay, my closest friends know I was dictating into my i-phone, as much I love the aesthetics of imagining I was writing in a special notebook while sitting on a rock) I was climbing Missoula’s Waterworks Hill. Oh, the Balsamroots! Trilling warbles of Western Meadowlark. And as I climbed a bit higher, although the lower elevation yellow balsa faded, white phlox poked out as a welcome to early spring. I peered at snow-topped Trapper’s Peak across the valley into the Bitteroot Range, and north toward Rattlesnake Wilderness. Ahh.

During my five days in Missoula, I did all those things you too would have liked to have joined in on. Sauntered along the Kim Williams Trail as it borders the Clark Fork, meandered through Greenough Park and Rattlesnake Creek, and another day trekking further up along Spring Gulch. Yes, those things that you too loved to do when you visited this special place.

As I’ve said since you died, I carry you in my heart pocket. I miss you. And, nearly always above all, I feel grateful. As I repeat my newly adopted motto “Enough is Enough” regarding writing and expectations of self, I confirm that it is the processing of story and sharing that most matters. Is most important to me, and fulfilling. I sometimes think I should’ve put your name on the cover; but people will figure it out. And we know it’s not fame or ego that matters most. It’s about creating something, sitting with it, holding it, and sharing it from your heart, sometimes in a way that touches others.

Through your work, and our writing, we have shared part of our story. I’ve had a few people tell me how they now feel ready to write their story, for whatever purpose it may serve them. Oh, what a gift! In the end, it’s not merely about publishing a book and getting it out there. It’s about opening our hearts and souls to contemplate our stories: all of them – sadness, loss, joys, lessons, regrets, acceptances. And perhaps to set the stage for what may (or may not) be ahead of us. Your friend Joan reminded me awhile back how you and she unsuccessfully pitched a book about midlife to publishers. Although this book is different than what you would’ve written then, it’s still something that comes from you, your words, and your spirit. I love you Mom and congratulations. Congratulations. To us. To our circle of family and friends. Love is circling our planet. In its own way.

Hawks circle above me now, reminding me of a short story I wrote, all those years ago, while based at Mt. Rainier’s Shriner Peak. That fire tower you visited me at, where we talked about nature and change. We looked in wonder and awe at the steam and scattering of ash plumes drifting from nearly newly erupted Mt. St. Helens. And we continued to share our hearts.

Have you read From First Breath to Last? If not, catch up by ordering it from your favorite bookstore, pick up a copy at White Rabbit Books and Gifts (Oregon City), Annie Bloom’s Books (Portland) and Fact & Fiction (Missoula). Or from Bookstore.org or Amazon.

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And…thanks in advance for sharing a blurb on Amazon, GoodReads or somewhere else.