My hubby and I are going away for the weekend, returning home later Sunday. It’s been a while since we were able to get away, even for a few nights. So we’ll celebrate our 36th, his 65th, my 64th, and our 13 years with Copper Boy! January, February, and March brought a whirlwind of emotions. I’ll be offline while away, and confession time: I am so behind in reading blogs, but I look forward to visiting your blogs next week.
About March 27th…
Today marks the day when Copper came into our lives in 2012 – his adoption day, his gotcha day! Today marks 3 1/2 weeks since he left our earthly world. And though our hearts still ache from missing him (look at this face), we celebrate his life and the 13 years we all had together. 🤎
Photo credit to my daughter – a younger Copper
“You will always be in our hearts, Copper, you handsome boy.” ❤️
Thank you for staying with me during this time of grief from when our 14 1/2 year old puppycrossed over the rainbow bridge on March 3rd. We will see him in the next life. 🌈
I want to leave you with another poem for Spring, another oldie, from my memoir: More than Coffee: memories in verse and prose:
Her Offerings
Harmony lives in each flow of a breeze In each gentle embrace of evergreens The clear blue enchantingly shields Let nothing stay concealed.
Blooms tender their affable smile Leaves listen in for awhile Birdsong soothes the whirling mind A landscape perfectly designed.
Nature’s lessons are plentiful Shall our choices be flexible? We are not ignorant to her offerings Receive them for relief of suffering.
A painting of beauty and brilliance Mesmerizing even in distance Can you deny the splendid view? Allow serenity to fall into you.
I hope my poem gives you a spring in your step and helps you to appreciate Nature’s offerings, and I’m turning off comments for the sake of time. Yours and mine! 🙂 I will miss our connection and interaction, but I will see you next week. Until then, enjoy the upcoming weekend and each day, for each day is a gift. I appreciate you all so much! ❤️
Thank you for the comforting comments on my prior post about Copper’s passing. It’s been an emotional week. He was our family for 13 years, so his absence and everything triggers tears and sobs. But the wonderful memories are coming too. Right now, I feel wiped out. Wild emotions for four days can do that (today is day five). Not sure how long this will last, but we’re taking it one day at a time. Anyway, I’m sharing more photos of our beloved Copper Boy from over the years. We have a billion. I think this is therapy for me while living in a deep pit of grief, but someday, the pain will transform into those sweet, precious memories. Copper will always be in our hearts. I’m also turning off comments because I just don’t have the energy. I’m sorry for missing your posts, and I hope you understand, but I hope to be back on board soon. ❤️
The conversation turned heavy discussing God’s existence, then noticing the time, my husband opened the door to retrieve our dinner, Grub Hub, don’t judge, a Friday convenience! Then a moth slipped in quietly, adroitly, wearing lime green and milky white. It landed on a nearby chair, and my husband spoke, “Is it you, Mom? It’s been 33 years, and we still miss you so much.” The moth lifted from the cloth rising up into the air, gliding out the door from which it came. It was Diane. We believe. Her entrance was timely, so perhaps, a reminder. We gave tears freedom. We know they’ll revisit because the many used up calendars over the years are irrelevant. His world was shattered too soon, but the events of that day are as vivid as yesterday’s sunset. Funny, how a little moth on its own special journey lifted our spirits that evening.
When I opened my email this morning, I was surprised to find this exciting note from Dagmara at Spillwords Press (photo above courtesy of Spillwords):
Dear Writers,
We hope this message finds you well. We’re reaching out to share some exciting news—your outstanding pieces have garnered nominations in one or more categories for the 2025 Spillwords Press Awards.
Congratulations to all on this well-deserved recognition, and we eagerly anticipate celebrating the winners throughout February.
Voting is officially scheduled from January 26th to January 31st on our voting page: https://spillwords.com/vote/.
We encourage you to share this link with your family, friends, and supporters, as their votes can make all the difference.
Please note, that registration and/or login are prerequisites for casting your votes.
The Author of the Year award winner will be prominently featured on the sidebar of Spillwords.com for the entire following month. Additionally, all winners will be showcased in a special publication on Spillwords.com.
Below, you’ll find the complete list of nominations:
SPILLWORDS PRESS AWARDS NOMINATIONS:
AUTHOR OF THE YEAR
Dawn Pisturino Ash Douglas Antonia Wang Lisa H. Owens Melissa Lemay Teodora Vamvu Ernie Stricsek Lou Storey Sanu Sharma Gabriella Balcom Joseph L.M. Sturm Michael McCarthy James Nelli
PUBLICATION OF THE YEAR (POETIC)
This World is Yours by Michael L. Utley Tapestry of Dreams by Ginny M. Jones Haunt by Emma Wells Empty Lines by Smitha V In Your Face by Ximena Escobar Black Flies by David Estringel Song of Soul by Suman Pokhrel Isn’t It a Pity? by Daedalus Chaos Worn Slap Out by Joni Caggiano Sentimental Ebb by Aurora Kastanias Birth Dance by SR Inciardi Treats Only, Please! by Lauren Scott Ethereal Encounter in the Night’s Embrace by Yasmin Hemmat A Squirrel’s Front Teeth Never Stop Growing by Barbara Harris Leonhard
PUBLICATION OF THE YEAR (NON-POETIC)
Miriam and Her 13,149 Days by Janete Cabral The Grand Adventure by Jim Bartlett The Seagull by Patricia Furstenberg Precious Moments by Valli Henry-Boldini A Christmas Heckler by John Christopher Moccona With Two Sugars by Sarah Kelleher Dunker Church by Robert Walton One Life to Live by Lise Rowlandson Kaivopuisto by S. Anand Adrift by Julie London Tasseography by Dominic Rivron Murmurs by June Hunter New Beginnings by Lisa Rivers Kiesling The Night My Daughter Never Came Home by Diana Burns PUBLICATION OF THE YEAR (INTERNATIONAL)
Willow! In an Ocean of Green! by Thaddeus Hutyra Namalowałeś… by Danuta Czerwińska Murawska No te Olvides de Mi by Francisco Bravo Cabrera The Apple Tree of Paradise by Marian Dziwisz El Primero by José A Gómez Rzeka by Mirosława Stojak Summer Haiku by Maurizio Brancaleoni Ay! Pobre Corazon by Nancy E. Campos Boquiblando by Alexis Soto Ramírez Gli Alberi di Gaza by Francesco Abate Soli by Natalia Castelluccio Coś do Powiedzenia by Katarzyna Koziorowska Significar Ninguna Vez by Romulaizer Pardo Złoty Ryngraf Nieba by Katarzyna Dominik
Best of luck to all nominees! We express our heartfelt gratitude for your exceptional collaboration and participation.
I’m not only thrilled that my poem from Halloween last year, “Treats Only, Please!” is nominated for Publication of the Year for 2025 (after winning Publication of the Month for October 2024), but I’m honored to stand beside so many talented authors. There are several categories to vote in, so I hope you take the time to sign in and vote! Voting begins today, January 26th, and will end on January 31st.A Huge Thanks to Dagmara and her amazing team at Spillwords for continuing to share my work. It’s a privilege to be a part of her wonderful literary community. ❤️🙏
Now as promised from my previous post, I’m sharing my first group of book reviews that I gave 5 stars. Please note that the length of my reviews is irrelevant. All of these books are different but highly recommended, so my thoughts vary on each…
The one thing Pete Springer knew post high school graduation was that he wasn’t going to college. He worked several odd jobs, but then through his dad’s friend, Springer found himself working in a position that developed into a rewarding experience. He was doing something that mattered, which motivated him to consider college again, only this time with a goal in mind.
After reading the first few pages, it didn’t take me long to learn that Springer was a caring and dedicated elementary school teacher. The kind that all parents wish for their children. They Call Me Mom reads like a memoir of how becoming an educator impacted his life in a positive way, as well as the positive difference he made in his students’ lives. Readers are guided on a journey spanning over three decades of his career. Springer offers sage advice to new teachers beginning from setting up the classroom to the importance of getting to know the students. “The obvious question is, how does one go about connecting with students? Well, it starts on the first day of school.” Working with parents and creating teamwork among staff and administrators is also paramount in obtaining trust.
Springer’s memories made me laugh, and some tugged at my heart. His personal goal was to be the best he could be for each classroom ranging from second grade to sixth grade. Some of Springer’s former students stay in contact with him too, which is telling in itself. And it wasn’t all about the curriculum – so much more goes into teaching than simply following a textbook. Through his anecdotes, he talks about the joys, challenges, and rewards of a profession that should be valued to the highest degree. Springer’s compassionate character evokes memories of my high school choir teacher, Mr. Perry, who encouraged me to step out of my singing comfort zone. Because of his support, I was able to realize my dream at the time.
I highly recommend They Call Me Mom as a tool for new teachers, and for current teachers to be reminded of the valuable reason they chose their career in the first place. Parents will also gain more insight, finding this book extremely useful. For those of us who don’t work in education, Springer’s book speaks to creating healthy relationships which is inspiring and can be applied to everyday life. I have a much deeper appreciation for teachers after reading this account of a fulfilling teaching career.
Vicki Atkinson’s book is an honest and emotional memoir about living with her mom, Sue, who was plagued with mental health and addiction issues. Sue’s moods would shift from joyful to rage in no time, causing confusion and pain to anyone nearby. Vicki disclosed only the truth, no sugarcoating any situation, and even inserted humor at times. In the midst of chaos and after she moved out from her mother’s house, she remained concerned about her disabled sister, Lisa, who landed on the receiving end of their mother’s manipulation and abuse.
How Vicki met each challenging moment with resilience, compassion, and strength was absolutely amazing to discover. She uncovered the means for coping while also providing us a glimpse of the good side of Sue…her fun, entertaining qualities, and empathetic heart that advocated for others. I found this perspective to be heartwarming and inspirational. Vicki became a licensed counselor, so I’m sure living with her mom’s unstable personality offered insight for her future to counsel others. This book truly demonstrates what it means to love and forgive, and to stay strong in turbulent times. Highly recommended!
When Balroop Singh’s husband unexpectedly passed away, she turned to writing poetry to provide a place for her grief to exist. Just One Goodbye is Singh’s invitation to join her on a journey that will make your heart ache. I can’t pretend to know how she feels because I haven’t experienced the loss of my husband. However, I can understand a love so strong, and a husband who became my best friend that even imagining a world without him is unimaginable.
Singh begins the collection with “A Journey through Grief” in which she speaks of how the tears flowed when she wrote these poems, and how they flowed again when she re-read them to edit. After reading the first poem “Just One Goodbye” I knew her collection was going to be heart-tugging and emotional…
…I look at the door wishing it could open one more time I yearn for one more smile One more hug I promise I’ll let you go Just let me say goodbye
The love and bond shared between Singh and her husband was profound, so Singh’s grief is intense. When a loved one passes suddenly, especially a spouse, how does one make sense of such a heartbreaking moment? Sorrow takes the spotlight in the beginning, but as I turned the pages, I began to see a slight ray of hope. Singh begins to write about a future without her husband, expressing that such a feat is possible, though the grieving will never end. The shift in Singh’s writing from sorrow to hope is encouraging for all of us who will have to say ‘good-bye’ to a loved one at some time in our lives.
I have always admired Singh’s beautiful poetry, and this collection was a continuation of her brilliant writing talent. I’m only saddened that the subject matter was painful for her, but I hope that as time passes, grief will loosen its grip, and writing will continue to provide comfort. I highly recommend this powerful poetry collection.
Celebrating Poetry by Cindy Georgakas is a companion guide to her successful debut book, Re-Create and Celebrate, but this collection of conversational poems can easily be read alone. While immersing myself into her beautiful writing, I felt as though she and I were chatting over a cup of coffee in my home about the ups and downs life has delivered. In a world where tragedy appears to be never-ending, the inspiration and motivation found in each poem is warmly welcomed. On the other hand, Georgakas dips into vulnerability and authenticity that we all can relate to; no words are minced, a fine detail of her writing that I love. I suggest you keep this book nearby for easy access on your coffee table or nightstand. Many poems also speak to the healing magic of nature which resonates with me because of my love for hiking, camping, and backpacking.
Even though we’ve heard it before, Georgakas reiterates: “Be who you are. Everyone else is taken.” And in “Be the Tree: We are pods in the tree of life: our stories will not go untold. From ashes we are to ashes we must go, as we take root, trusting with all our might.”
Celebrating Poetry inspires and touches souls, whether they feel whole or broken. Many poems resonate, remind, and enlighten, but I’m spotlighting one that really stands out:
The Insidious Mind
The mind is so insidious. We thrash our inner world to pieces, judging, critiquing, berating ourselves to a bloody pulp.
It’s no wonder the world is full of hatred and ugliness when we can’t even treat ourselves kindly.
Self-doubt reflected becomes too painful to feel, so, we wear a mask of false bravado, hoping no one will see our fractured parts.
This inner war invading our world is the culprit of hiding our greatness, turning us inside out, free for the taking.
Bring it to light, remember this is the job of the mind and not who you are. Release these demons so you can be free.
Don’t let these words live rent free in your head, you deserve better than these lies and deception they’ll have you believe. Be your own best friend, evict them with no further notice, so you can get the show on the road and take your power back.
As a matter of fact, this poem should be read and processed by everyone. Then maybe the never-ending tragedy would finally reach its expiration date. An empowering and lovely poetry collection highly recommended.
Sesi Says Goodbye to Granny is a beautiful mother-son collaboration by Robbie and Michael Cheadle. Together they have written a delightful story about Sesi, an elephant calf, who is worried about the matriarch leaving the herd. Young Sesi questions that if her treasured Granny leaves, who will guide and take care of her family? In this charming tale, we learn about African Bush Elephants and are pleasantly entertained with exquisite images and artwork by Robbie Cheadle. I bought the paperback and was captivated by the vivid colors and stunning visuals with each turn of a page. My fascination with elephants began years ago, so it was interesting to learn more about the magnificent animals. Sesi’s adventure is a real treat for children; I can only imagine the curiosity and excitement a child would feel, but honestly, her story is for all ages because of the educational element. If you wonder about Granny and the future of the herd like Sesi does, then you’ll need to purchase your copy, and I highly recommend that you do!
I know I’ve packed a lot into this one post, but with my family and work, time won’t allow me to post or blog every day. So, your takeaways today are to VOTE at Spillwords Press by simply clicking on the link above and signing in. If I am honored to receive your vote then I thank you in advance. Most of all, I encourage you to support the wonderful authors whose writing enriches all of our lives.
And now you have more books to read! You can click on the titles that will gently carry you over to Amazon to purchase your copy. I wouldn’t be a normal author if I didn’t include a plug for my book too, so here it is. 🙂 Click on the image below to purchase your copy of Cora’s Quest (a children’s book that will be enjoyed by kids from 2-92!) And remember that reviews are like hugs, so if you enjoy any books here or in general, please consider sharing a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. No rules apply: short or long, it doesn’t matter. Your time and support are appreciated by all Indie Authors. ❤️
Lastly, I am so grateful that you chose to visit me in your busy blogging schedule. I know it’s hard to keep up, so thank you! And I wish you a great day and week ahead!
I look at the frail man lying in the hospice bed whose body is slowly giving up. My eyes close.
Is he my father? The pillar in my life?
It’s tough to accept because my father stands next to me in the 8×10 frame on the peak of San Gorgonio mountain, highest in Southern California.
At 65, he hiked up and down that mountain, 18 miles round trip. Sun hat, t-shirt, long pants, smile, heart full of adventure, this man, so full of life.
The end of his trail draws near. Grief will find its way, no doubt. and I will surrender, then I will shout to the universe in celebration of the incredible man he used to be.
Until that time, I look at his face, I bend down to kiss him on the forehead. I focus on his good eye, and I see my wonderful father who stood beside me on that mountain top.
Laura folds into the patio rocker, breathing in summer’s fragrance. The sun boldly hangs in the bright sky, but today marks the tenth anniversary of that day. Her heart feels heavy.
“I miss you, Mom, and the kids miss their grandma. I just long for another chat, a hug, even one more piece of unsolicited advice.”
She watches a hummingbird soar to the pink geranium hanging from the gazebo. Her mother loved these delightful creatures.
“Is that you, Mom?”
The little bird glides to Laura, hovering at eye level.
Rocking gently, Laura feels the comfort of her mom’s presence.
It was close to 7:30 am when she walked into his room, sitting down in front of him. She looked into his eyes with a combination of love and resolution, as if to say, “Don’t you know, too?” He looked at his adorable black lab and shook his head, thinking, this is a little odd. But the obligation of school called, so he patted her soft head, saying, “Love you, Girl, see you later!” And he finished tying his shoes before walking out the door, heading for the high school.
The rest of us also left for the day’s routine: work and school. Just the ordinary; it was to be an ordinary kind of day. She was curled up and content on her soft bed in the backyard where she liked to keep an eye on any trespassing critters.
But shortly after we all left, she cried out. Our good neighbor next door heard her high-pitched cries, so he called us on our cell phones, then he stayed with her. One significant glitch was that all our cell phones were turned off, which had never happened before, and which proved to be the conundrum on this tearful day. So, over an hour passed before I even listened to the urgent message; during this time, our neighbor waited patiently with Lucky Girl breathing her last breaths. The guilt from this unintentional blunder stayed with us for a very long time; we felt sick inside imagining that she was lying there waiting for one of us to come home to tell her that everything was going to be okay.
He got down to her level, parking himself on the cool November concrete, her head resting on his leg. He was not a dog person, but he was a dog person on this day, petting her with compassion. It was ironic that she had had an aversion to him for some unknown reason. But that morning, any dislike she had for this man faded into the uncertainty of what was happening.
I pulled into the driveway, eyes wet and puffy from the phone message, and this was only the beginning. Walking through the side gate, I spotted our neighbor sitting on the walkway, his back up against the house, legs stretched out with Lucky Girl lying beside him. She was barely there, though – her eyes revealing acceptance and sadness. I think she knew more than we did at that moment.
He helped me lift her, gently laying her in the back of the car so she could lie on her side with plenty of room. As much as I wanted her in the front seat where I could see her, I knew she wouldn’t be comfortable. It wasn’t until I pulled out of the driveway that I realized the inevitable was drawing closer. She was eleven years old, but until today, she still seemed so full of life.
With tearful eyes, I drove, feeling grateful the freeway wasn’t a necessary route. Half-way to the vet, I knew. My heart felt the crossing. I pulled over to the side, got out of the car, and walked to the back, lifting the car door. I saw that my Lucky Girl had crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. I sobbed again, knowing more tears would follow.
I kissed her on her nose then managed to get back into the driver’s seat, continuing for another ten minutes to the vet. When I arrived, frantically entering the building, I shared my devastating news with the girl at the counter who acted amazingly aloof for my untamed emotions. But two vet techs wearing light blue medical jackets carried Lucky Girl from the car into a private room. I asked for a few moments alone with my girl. There she was lying on the silver table, where I’m sure many furry family members have done the same. I bent over, laying my head on her soft black fur, gently petting her, and whispering on behalf of her family, “We love you, Lucky Girl.” More tears slid down my face as I was unable to comprehend that this was it…
No more walks together, no more cuddles on the bed, no more tossing of the ball, watching her chase that silly round toy with the excitement of a toddler. No more playing tug-o-war with her favorite rope toy, entertained by her incredible strength and admirable effort. No more watching TV with her lying at our feet as though she’s enjoying the show as much as we are.
When we were all home later that day – the news weighing heavy on our hearts and minds – we huddled in a strong embrace, emotions running wild. This unforgettable chapter was part of life, part of owning a pet, allowing their unconditional love to wrap around our hearts. But this chapter was also about learning how to say good-bye.
The strange thing was Lucky Girl had never indicated that something was off kilter…except, perhaps, when she walked into his room that morning. She looked at him with knowledge we couldn’t possibly have been privy to. Even though her behavior was unusual, she was quiet, not crying or whining, so it didn’t propel us into worrying.
Hindsight is twenty-twenty. If we only would have known. It just happened so fast.
Remembering Lucky Girl who received her angel wings on November 11, 2011. ❤️
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author 