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The Spiral Staircase

The fall out of a fractured divorce:

The Motherless Muse

I was surprised to find myself referenced in the lines of the obituary. Somebody was mindful, maybe the parent of the other 3 step-grandchildren though I’m not sure who they are.

When the deceased and I first met, I was already a young adult so I don’t know that I ever considered her a step-grandmother, though perhaps some if not all of my younger sisters did. I find myself touched to be included all these years later, to be considered family, even while the ground beneath that sentiment shifts, inviting closer inspection…

My “step-grandmother” was an elegant woman or maybe graceful better captures her, but a grace born of self-composure, more than wealth or finery. Despite her graciousness, however, she stung me once, irrevocably, and all these years later, it comes back to me, when I am the age she would have been then…

My father, the surgeon, began sleeping…

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Lifelong educator, writer, retreat & journey leader, yoga & yogadance instructor.

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