Peace - striving for it. Longing for it. Searching for it. Needing it. Our days are filled with caregivers, therapists, nurses, doctors, and occasionally visitors. So many people. So many conversations. So little quiet. All of these encounters are incredibly important - critical, essential. But they come with a cost. Quiet, peace, solace - are often sorely lacking. The House of Quiet Light has provided countless hours of just that - peace. But is the house truly the source?

Many years ago, I watched a dear friend struggle - to find handicapped parking for a wheelchair van, to find accessible restaurants, theatres, events. Passable sidewalks. Just the other day - Chaz, Aswan and I traveled to the beach. The 1st beach - no available accessible parking. The 2nd beach - parking lot was too sandy for the chair. The 3rd beach - success. I found a wheelchair van parking spot - smile. We traveled the boardwalk towards one end - the quieter end. Then I

I miss us... Roles - reversed. Who am I now? Who is he? What really creates identity? Circumstances? Family? Environs? All of the above? Perhaps - so many possible contributing factors. But who are we - really? What identity is at our center? Why does it seem to change when we face large life challenges? Should it? When we are willing to peel away the layers - true self is often revealed. We may not like Who we see. We may love Who we see. Transparency - Veritas - will

Changes They're not always noticeable - but they always happen. Fighting change is like tilting at windmills. You'll never win. You'll just grow weary and weak. One afternoon at the gallery, another artist asked me, " May I ask you a question about your work?" 'Of course,' I replied. "These three pieces ", she said as she pointed them out. "Tell me about these." "Interesting that you pointed those out. Those are much earlier pieces. " "I could tell." she answered. "They'r

The children gathered round. "I have something very special to share. This house gives gifts - nearly every day. You just need to pay attention." I proceeded to tell them about the fiddler crabs and the petunia. And there were many more... Sitting on the deck, enjoying a visit with a friend, we both marveled as a turtle appeared. She, or he, walked confidently across the yard, between us and the water. Then as quickly as she had appeared, she disappeared. We walked down off

Gardening - it's always been a passion of mine. The cool feel and smell of the loam crumbling in your fingers, digging in the dirt, bringing life and color to a neglected spot. I love creating with nature's palette. House of Quiet Light came with several established gardens, which I'm caring for and adding to. But there was a corner of the property, along a split rail fence that marked the edge of the marsh, that needed attention. I went to a favorite garden center that spe

It was a Friday. Chaz's caregiver was with him. I was having an incredibly difficult day. I had to get away - take a break - find quiet. I kissed Chaz on the forehead, grabbed my phone and told Aswan, I'm heading out. I have my phone if you need anything. Where was I going? Not sure. Just driving. Thoughts began to assail - questions I had been asked - from family, from friends. Where will you go? What will you do? After? After. The spectre that loomed, over every moment. Whe