My weekend was filled with that special kind of lovely.

Time with my amazing mom. The company of the most amazing man a woman could ask for. The love of two crazy pups, who “told” Grandma that Mommy really needed flowers for Mother’s Day, and Grandma delivered.

In our family there is no distinction between the kids who come on four legs and the ones who come on two.

Calla lilies. Elegant trumpets of purple, pink and ivory perfection now grace my kitchen table.

Yellow orchids tilt joyfully toward the sun, their new home next to my family room window.

And outside, the greatest gift I could ask for. My father’s little apple tree, now ours, its tiny trunk just shy of four feet tall, delicate branches reaching for the sky with all their might, bearing fruit for the very first time. I have counted five little apples in all, scattered about, but there is one special twosome. Joined in harmony, robust and thriving. My heart sings and swells with this progress.

As a woman living with compromised health, I spend a lot of time at home. For that reason and for many others, I want to walk into every room, turn every corner, step outside into my backyard sanctuary and always see a reason to smile.

Beautiful flowers and a happy little fruit tree make for a beautiful start. The flowers representing so many things, like simple beauty, and my father’s thriving little apple tree representing so much more. It means, to me, that his happiness and passion have found a way to live on, nearly three years after he left us.

There is no greater gift he can give me.

It is simply without question. Despite loss, despite illness, despite every pain and challenge, mine is a life filled with infinite love and blessings.

May you always find the good and light in your life, and feel the same.

Have an amazing week.

On this glorious Mother’s Day weekend, I want to spend every moment I can with the beautiful woman who gave me life.

She is my teacher, my hope, the keeper of my every wish and secret. I want to slow down and linger over her gorgeous smile. I want to hold the hands that have nurtured and comforted me over these many years. I want her to know how much I, how much we as her children, cherish and appreciate her.

Because this woman’s devotion and generosity know no end.

This weekend, I want to set aside all that hurts and just bask in the love of family. There is no greater gift.

Have a beautiful weekend, everyone.

And Happy Mother’s Day to all of the amazing moms out there.

And Happy Mother’s Day to you, Mom.

Thank you for everything.

Most of all, thank you for showing me, and everyone who has the blessing of you, what it means to love.

I haven’t been in a good place. I have wanted to give up, disappear, simply forget who I am.

I feel in my heart that my soul is meant for something different; like it is meant for so much more than me being sick. I accept my illness as part of my journey, but lately it has completely defined it.

Completely defined me.

And I just can’t figure out how to break away from that.

I want things to look up. If I can’t be well, I can at least take the small but integral step toward choosing happiness. And maybe, just maybe, that small step will help me break free.

This morning I sat outside in my backyard and closed my eyes. It continues to amaze me how healing the simplest things can be. Like sunshine. And birds. Flowers. Colors. Warmth.

Light.

Life.

Make it a beautiful day everyone.

Let’s always remember to slow down and notice the simple and unassuming.

With love always to you and yours.

~Allyson

~Buddha

At my last doctor’s appointment, I sat quietly as she, in her signature diligence, took notes and organized my ever growing file. It was much of the same ~ lab and biopsy results, seemingly endless chat about my worsening symptoms. I don’t know what possessed me to look down and see what she was writing, but my eyes fell to several lines at the top of a crisp white page.

Expected duration of condition:

Lifetime.

Life expectancy:

Abbreviated.

She looked up at me, catching my defeated gaze and quivering lip. The pain seared through my hips and back, a steady burn trickling down to my knees. I shifted in the hard plastic chair and looked away from her empathetic smile.

“Don’t lose hope,” she said as she grasped my aching hand. “This doesn’t mean it will be this way. We can find a way to manage this. We just need to keep trying.”

I managed to smile back, nod and thank her as tears silently threatened. I prayed for the strength to make it to my car before I lost all control. Ten minutes later, with shaking hands and tears flowing freely, I was home. I went straight to my bedroom, drew the curtains closed, buried myself under the covers and, literally, shut out the world.  No phone calls. No emails or texts. Nothing.  No matter how urgent.

My dear husband arrived hours later, scared to find me in my cocoon, my shell, makeshift armor made of bedclothes.

“What can I do for you?” he whispered, leaning down to gently pull the covers away, stroking my hair with his calloused hand.

Words failed me. All I could do was shake my head and cry. I felt his lips against my forehead, and the sheet against my shoulders as he gently pulled it up around me. I felt his weight shift from the bed. I heard footsteps. The door closing.

Finally alone.

I prayed for sleep. Anything to escape the pain, the shadow of illness, the uncertainty of all of it. Prayers were answered. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but when I awakened I turned to the bedside table and found something that wasn’t there before. A white envelope, with his handwriting on the outside.

For You My Love.

With shaking hands I reached over and grasped it, tearing the envelope carefully. I sobbed as I read the treasure that was tucked inside. I traced my fingertips over every loving word. And just like that, a wave of devotion and gratitude and every wonderful emotion imaginable washed over me.

Everything I felt before slipped away.

Then I realized it.  I need to let go of this fear that I constantly carry around ~ the fear of disappointing the people I love.

I need to always remember that this journey isn’t mine alone. I am walking this path with an unbelievably compassionate and loving man, who, in the face of everything, loves me.

I need to stop wishing for something different. This is God’s plan for me. I need to keep the faith and trust it.

Whatever it is that challenges us, we simply can’t lose hope. I know I say it a lot, but it’s true. Love wins. Our love for others, their love for us, and our love for ourselves.

Our love for the world and our love for life.

It wins.

Always.

Have a beautiful month everyone, and a beautiful week.

Normally my Sundays are spent resting and in the comfort of my home. My health prevents me from venturing out the way I used to.  A thirty minute trip to the grocery store can feel monumental. Some days I’m alright, but on most days I’m not. And most days lately have been bad days.

So on Saturday evening, I was a bit surprised, pleasantly surprised, when my husband asked if I would like to go to the zoo the following morning.

It may sound silly and a little pathetic, but when I’m out with my husband he has a way of making me feel secure. If I get sick or tired wherever we are, I know he will handle the situation beautifully, and get me home quickly if need be. But being sensitive to how I feel, he is often reluctant to suggest we go out and have fun. I in turn am reluctant to make the same suggestions, because I never want to be a burden on him.

The thought of going to the zoo had me smiling. We love animals. And it had been a while since quality time together involved more than being stuck at home, holding hands on the couch and finding something mutually appealing to watch on TV. So I answered his question with a happily enthusiastic “yes.”

We arrived before noon. The zoo’s residents seemed to prefer late morning naps to playing and being busy. We are experiencing our first real heat of spring here in Northern California, and we guessed that the unseasonable warmth had something to do with their behavior. It made it impossible for me to get any good photos, with everyone sleeping under trees or shelters, hiding from view. My husband sensed my disappointment.

“Let’s see what the giraffes are doing. Maybe they are out and about,” he said as he grasped my hand and led me in that direction.

It is always interesting with our giraffe friends. They were standing outside, looking curiously as everyone passed or looked back at them with equal curiosity. But it was some of the same. As a burgeoning photographer, I felt disappointed when my super tall friends preferred the shade to the sunshine. I took my camera out and tried anyway, hoping for something special to come out of it.

And then I got this one.

I think it captures the mysterious and peaceful beauty they possess.

Sometimes I find myself in moments like this, looking at this majesty, this miracle of life, and I am literally moved to tears. I deliberately contemplate my place in this world, and the most incredible thoughts flood my mind and the most amazing emotions fill my heart. I walk and share this earth with animals who are six feet tall when they are born. Creatures with hearts that weigh 25 pounds. Beings that have necks over two meters long, yet they have the exact same number of cervical vertebrae as me.

Little human me.

We continued to watch them.  Our smiles grew as we stood there, still holding hands, watching a parent and small child approach our tall friends with a young blonde woman, her black polo shirt identifying her as zoo personnel. It was feeding time.  My thoughts returned to the magic of it.  An animal eighteen feet tall, yet so gentle that it can lovingly take food from a three-year-old’s chubby hand, make her smile and laugh, and give her the experience of a lifetime.

It was a perfect moment. A perfect day. And it reminded me how I never want to lose my love for life and knowledge, and everything that is good. That despite how hard things feel, some things in this world are just amazing, and I always want to know that sense of wonder.

May you always know it, too.

Have a gorgeous week, everyone.

Today is a particularly bad pain day. It is a particularly bad energy day, too.

The sensations meander around my body. At best, it feels like my limbs are on fire. At worst, it feels like I have one of those brain freeze headaches, pounding in my head and over every inch of me.  Instead of a merciful few seconds, the feeling lasts for a relentless hour or two. I won’t lie. It makes me have thoughts I am not proud of. I think about how I don’t want to live like this. I contemplate how much I have lost, and how much I stand to lose as this continues. I battle with how pointless my life feels sometimes.

In moments of extreme weakness I flirt with the idea of risky behaviors, like taking addictive painkillers or drinking alcohol, anything to make it stop.

But I won’t.

Because ultimately I love life, and I love myself too much to do those things.

Today I had every intention of writing something really inspiring and meaningful, to start what should be a beautiful week. Instead I have to embrace short, sweet, brutal honesty. My spirit is willing, but my mind and body are weak.  My fingers can barely move as I type this. I am struggling to find my words.

Just as I love myself enough to not indulge in dangerous things, I also love myself enough to know when to stop and be kind. To me.

Today I choose self care, and I will choose this as long as I need. I also choose to know the beauty that is all around me. When I got out of the shower this morning, this is what I saw.

And when I was resting on the couch this afternoon, my little guy got right up next to me. His warm little body gave my heavy heart so much comfort.

My angels.

Who think I’m the best mommy ever, no matter what.

Life really is beautiful after all.

Have a blessed week.

It has been that kind of week.

Something I like to call “sock monkey slipper time.”

Three precious souls lost their lives, and hundreds of people will never be the same again, after the bombing in Boston earlier this week. A fertilizer plant blew up in Texas, and dozens of people are unaccounted for. Mail laced with lethal poison was sent to our lawmakers here in the U.S.

And then there are the constant worries closer to home. Like how no matter what I do, I’m not getting better. No matter what I and my doctor throw at them, lupus and chronic pain are winning.  It’s crazy. I can’t get out of bed in the mornings. I pour pineapple juice into my coffee. My skin actually hurts. My hair hurts.

Yes, that is actually a thing.

So, it’s sock monkey slipper time when it feels like the world is fifty shades of crazy.

It’s also sock monkey slipper time when I want a reason to look down at my feet and smile.

We can all use more smiles.

Yesterday I spied my cuddle bug son, snuggled up in his blanket. I smiled some more. Not long ago he was abandoned and unloved at our local shelter. But something, some greater power, told us to go and find him and bring him home.

I know that as long as there is love in my world, and I hold on to a belief in something so much greater than any of this, everything will be alright.

Because no matter what personally challenges us, or what tragedy and evil throw our way, people are good.

Faith his powerful.

The world is a beautiful place.

And love wins.

I wish you a weekend filled with the kind of things you dream of.

Be safe, have fun and surround yourself with the things that make you smile.

 There they were. Thousands of people gathered together for a purpose; in the name of tradition and sport, family and human excellence. In a flash, pain and death. Suffering so deep that words cannot capture it.

For those who come here regularly, you know I have spoken of my faith, and how I don’t identify with any one particular sect or religion. It isn’t due to any level of skepticism.  It comes from my belief in omnipresent truth. Truth is everywhere. Where there is love, it thrives.  Where there is peace, it grows.  And where there is hope, it wins. Be it in nature, church, my home, or right in my very own heart.

But madness and hatred continue to trample upon our lives and barrel into our collective consciousness. Why do some choose to be an instrument of darkness? Why must evil exist at all? Why must life be a constant test?

Why, oh why, do things like this have to happen?

Why must faith be challenged this way?

In times like this, I lean on these words:

As above, so below.

On earth as it is in heaven.

The longer I live the more I realize what our greatest purpose is.

We are here to love ourselves and each other, and have faith in all that is good when we are challenged the most.

Today and always I pray for the peace and strength of everyone affected by yesterday’s events.

Boston, you are loved.

A gorgeous blossom on my backyard apple tree

It has been a thoughtful week, friends.

Yesterday morning I felt crazy and weepy and I really didn’t know why, until I realized it was my father’s birthday.

He would have been 67 years old.

Sometimes I am at peace with him leaving us. And sometimes not.

I have a ritual when I struggle to feel that peace, when it begins to hurt too much. I go out in my yard and spend time with Dad’s beloved little apple tree. My husband and I lovingly planted it in the ground a few months ago, liberating it from the huge pot that had housed it for nearly two years. This little baby has thrived in its new spot in our backyard, with an overabundance of leaves and blossoms and branches, so happy in the sunshine. It may sound weird or stupid, but I really do feel comforted and connected to my dad when I go out and spend time with this beautiful little tree. I guess it is my way of coping, knowing that the things he cared about still find a way to live on here, in this place. I like to think that he looks down from where he is, loves what he sees, and connects with it in some way.

I just want him to always know that his time here mattered. I think he doubted that sometimes, when he was here. That is what breaks my heart the most.

Dad, you mattered. I think the lessons of your soul life are showing you that, and you know it to be true now. But just in case you needed to hear it from me, yes, you mattered.

More than words can ever express.

With family, love and loss on my mind yesterday, I really wanted the rest of my day to be about the things that count. I spent some time with my awesome mom, having a few laughs and talking about the pups and fashion and other things that make us smile. I looked forward to a beautiful night with my husband, enjoying his company and feeling gratitude for all I have been blessed with in this life. He then arrived home with a beautiful bouquet of roses for me.

Sometimes he just knows what I need.

I swear, life and love are the most amazing things imaginable.

Friends, have a beautiful weekend.

May it be filled with all the things, and people, who bring you joy.

And love.

Friends, I am a few days late with this post.

Last week wasn’t an ordinary week. I felt more ill than usual. I got about twelve measly hours of sleep over five days, compliments of some off-the-charts crazy pain my meds couldn’t even put a dent in.   I was nauseous; so nauseous that I spent a lot of time in the bathroom (no, I’m not pregnant). However, I did have an epiphany. Saltine crackers are pretty much the greatest invention known to woman.

I threw my wedding ring in the trash. Twice. Not because I’m mad at my husband or anything like that, but because I seriously didn’t know what I was doing.

Oh well. Moving on. I’m feeling somewhat better, and now that April is here and I find myself one week into the month, it brings me to what I need emotionally, and what my role is in achieving it.

In his Palm Sunday homily last month, Pope Francis shared some words with the faithful, words that his grandmother would say to him and his siblings when they were children:

Burial shrouds don’t have pockets.

These words really aren’t anything new, but I sometimes need to be reminded of their wise, obvious truth.  Consumerism, and material things, can’t feed my soul the way that simplicity and charity can. Gratification isn’t necessarily found in the “having”, but instead in the “giving”-be it the giving of possessions, or the giving of myself.

While this practice is getting remarkably easier the older (and sadly, the sicker) I get, that doesn’t mean it isn’t without its challenges. Anyone can look at my fashion boards on Pinterest and see where my tastes lie. I often joke with family and friends about becoming rich and famous, waxing poetic about the future $1,000,000 book deal, and how everyone can find me at the Neiman Marcus shoe department before the ink on my publishing contract is even dry.

But truthfully, an overabundance of pretty, expensive things isn’t going to magically make me well. I do have a chance at better energy, balance, and being well if there is space and harmony in my home. I can perhaps make life easier for others, and myself, by giving. For me, at this stage in my life, that can come from having less.

So this is what I am striving for. I want to actively cultivate a life that feels meaningful on the inside, and not trouble myself with how things look on the outside. How will I do this? I plan to take a careful look at what I have, and decide if it stays or goes. How does it serve me?  Does it bring peace, beauty, function, comfort or joy into my life?  Is there a happy memory associated with it?  If not, I will gift it, donate it to those in need, or sell it online.  A piece of jewelry that a relative admired long ago, but I no longer wear. A soft blanket that can comfort a child or furry little angel. Still stylish business attire that served its purpose in my life, and can now get another woman back on her feet and in a workforce that is just waiting for her to shine.

The material will always have a place in my world. The beautifully embellished clothes, and the special jewelry that have happy memories attached to them? I loved them then, love them now, and always will. The high-end designer bags and shoes my husband and mom have showered me with over the years? I will keep them forever.  I won’t get rid of anything I truly love, no matter how simple or grand the story may be behind it, just for the sake of living up to a certain ideal. But I know I can realistically look at all I have, and let some of it go for the sake of a greater good.

How will I do? It is impossible to say, but the thought of having less is freeing, and comforting.

Friends, whatever your goals may be this month, I wish you all the world’s success in achieving them.

Let’s continue to support and love each other.

Have a beautiful week.