Reflections on Autumn, Writing, & Motorcycles

Autumn has arrived.

Denali is aflame in fall colors, and termination dust blankets the mountaintops.

NPS Photo / Tim Rains

I am unable to ignore the shortening days, the silence that greets me as I leave for work before the birds wake, nor the squirrels that chastise me relentlessly while golden aspen leaves, freshly fallen, carpet the trail I walk each morning. Yesterday, I watched a family of ptarmigan scurry along the roadside, their feathers transitioning from brown to white.

This past summer, I allowed myself a respite from my writerly self and instead embraced the Park Ranger persona. I count myself fortunate to be immersed in nature daily while connecting vast numbers of visitors with the peace and recharge only wilderness can provide.

Of late, I’m fluctuating between immense thankfulness and a nagging sense of uncertainty. I try to remind myself that nothing is permanent, and what matters is this moment, and, fittingly, as I write this, I hear an unmistakable thunking sound accompanied by the pungent smell of onions, celery, garlic, and carrots as Tom preps a hearty fall bean soup. The smell of frying bacon sets my mouth watering, and I can’t help but smile.

This past season has presented a variety of new challenges and opportunities. Read on to find out more.

The Latest – Writing

I’d mentioned in a private writer’s group around the time of the ten-year anniversary of Michael’s passing in July that I’d been struggling to find balance. How do I honor the grief, embrace the growth I’ve achieved, and recognize there is still so much further to go? I labeled what I was experiencing as a “Grief-Growth Cycle,” one of many I’d experienced since losing Michael in 2013.  Megan Aronson, writer extraordinaire and friend, recently published an essay in BrevityBlog inspired by that online conversation, and I’m honored to share it here.

My friends Sara Easterly (adoptee), Kelsey Vander Vliet Ranyard (birth parent), and Lori Holden (adoptive parent) interviewed dozens of adoptees, birth parents (me included), adoptive parents, social workers, therapists, and other allies who share candidly about the challenges in adoption. While finding common ground in the sometimes-contentious space of adoption may seem like a lofty goal, it reveals the authors’ optimistic aim: working together with truth and transparency to move toward healing. The result of their efforts is the book ADOPTION UNFILTERED, available for preorder now.

I also have a piece in the forthcoming anthology LETTERS I’LL NEVER SEND. Editor Jackie Bluu compiled 40 first-person narratives, such as letters, poems, personal essays, and diary entries, showcasing our individual journeys and circumstances to reveal how similar our lives are, no matter the difference in age, location, gender, race, or identity. This anthology captures us in our most fragile state and spotlights the emotional ties and human experiences that we all share. Now available for pre-order.

The Latest – Health

I am officially one year out from TLIF Spinal Fusion. I no longer hunch over when I get out of bed in the morning, no longer snap, crackle, and pop when I stretch, and no longer take daily pain medication. But, although the nerve pain associated with my spine has mostly dissipated, my doctor ordered an MRI at my one-year surgical follow-up last week.

Over the course of this spring & summer, my one-and-only (yes, Tom) has been dealing with a myriad of health issues. We’ve shared many scary moments, exasperation at bodies that don’t match our mental age (27 for me, 28 for Tom), and laughed a lot. Then, on the heels of Tom’s procedures, I was diagnosed with skin cancer. I’ve undergone two surgeries and await a message that includes the words “clear margins.”

The Latest – Fun

For those of you who read the acknowledgments at the end of Goodbye Again, you are familiar with the incentive to write my memoir – Tom’s words, “Why wait.” I have expanded this into a code to live by, titled the “Why Wait Protocol.” In keeping with the implementation of this code, I decided to do something I’ve wanted to do for quite some time: learn to ride a motorcycle. And in keeping with Tom’s practice of supporting and encouraging me, he bought me my first bike.

Meet Raven.

She’s a 2002 Harley Davidson Sportster, 883.

I love her.

I hope you enjoy the autumn season, and let me know in the comments how your summer has been.

~Peace and joy~