A journal entry – Written in Château Lé, July 10, 2026
Yesterday was the second anniversary of my father’s passing. He rests in my heart.
Today I had my last infusion. Nineteen months of rigid therapy.
The last few years have been humbling, painful, vibrant….Painfully and beautifully vibrant. Raw and cooked in the most lived way. Life… I’ve been in it. Present in a way that was never contrived. (LOL, at least most of the time.)
A winter season. A chemo season. Travels from Connecticut to the top of the Sierras, Nevada to my east and California to my west. From Honesdale, PA to Tomar, Portugal and every place in between, scattering my parents’ ashes along the way.
Napping and day dreaming in the parks of medieval Le Marais. Celebrating my 57th birthday by strolling into Notre Dame as casually as a local, then sitting through Mass, unexpectedly, yet thrilled to be among the pilgrims of the Camino de Santiago. Taking the Eucharist from a French priest, in the familiar rhythm of my childhood.
Lying naked on my bathroom floor, talking to myself, every word a whisper of encouragement to be right where I was. Rocking back and forth in chemo discomfort. Breathing through the trembles and the nausea. Gathering strength to keep going.
Moments deep in shadow work. The side effects returned me to my mother’s own cancer journey, to watching her master the final weeks of her life. The intense neuropathy in my hands and feet, especially my feet, brought me back to my father’s bedside in his brief dying days. I witnessed again their mystified expressions of wonder that their lives were coming to an end. Every moment I was keenly aware of the time left, of its sacredness, of the understanding that not only did my behavior matter, but my awareness was the guide. There were dark moments of regret, too. Witnessing a humanness in myself I least desire.
Then a solo trip to Giverny, to Monet’s garden. After a morning wandering the painter’s home and gardens, leaving some of my parents’ ashes in a corner of the famous Jardins, among July blooms of lipstick red cosmos and rich burgundy dahlias.I found a meadow in the middle of town. The day was glorious. Cool and foggy in the morning, then big billows of clouds against a blue Normandy sky, the sun drifting in and out and casting long shadows across the grass.
I lay on a linen wrap I’d had the good sense to tuck into my pack, with a small bottle of white wine and half a sandwich from a little Giverny café, popular for its ice cream. Still bald from chemo, I wore a light cream crochet summer beanie and had no qualms about taking it off. Comfortable in my skin and my bald head, yet very self-conscious that I had no eyelashes and no eyebrows. I lay back under an old, majestic pine and watched the clouds go by, drifting in and out of a lazy afternoon nap with no worries or desires in the world. I was exactly where I was meant to be.
And before that: sitting at my west side kitchen table, sick as hell the day after an infusion, but grateful for my apartment, my beloved home and the warmth of it. A sanctuary. A haven of healing, rich with the energy of practice and crystal bowls. The snow is falling and I’m crying because I’m starving for flavor, for food. I had lost my appetite and my taste. Everything, even water, tasted dull and metallic. My mother stopped eating near the end and made faces when we tried to feed her. Sitting there in the dark early afternoon of a northeastern winter, I remembered her pushing food away, her withering body walking to the bathroom in a blue Rolling Stones t-shirt that hung far too big, wearing Depends, her once long, beautiful, toned legs now hung with skin as baggy as her shirt. I loved her even more that day. She never lost her hair, but just in case, I arranged a private haircut for her after hours at an Aveda salon in the Galleria mall. Memory after memory flooded my days, some as vivid as the discomfort and agitation of my shell of a body.
Not long after my return to food and movement in Paris, I found myself lying topless on a Portuguese beach, sunning myself barely 3 weeks after a lumpectomy, without a care in the world, tattered tit and all. Bruised, scarred, lopsided and discolored. I didn’t give a fuck. The sun and wind felt like two lovers kissing my breast, healing me with every caress.
As my 58th birthday approaches… I want to honor the past year, and those before that with a bow and smile to a life well lived. Cheers to an extraordinary year!
Gifts of My 57th Year
Love
A California return
Dreams
Humility
Brave
Courage
Connecticut
Mystic
The most expensive hotel room I’ve ever slept in ~ Dreams
A Jacuzzi bath to remember
A 2 hour soak
Candles
Billie Holiday
Many beautiful and hard goodbyes ~ Life at its most difficult ~ Friends, I’ll miss you all
Fear
Love
Winter days
Gloriously lazy days
Painting
Strategy
Jackson, Wyoming, Fall 2025 ~ THE most beautiful place I have ever been… God’s Yellow
The poplar tree and THE Grand Tetons kissing the sky
Washington DC ~ Ghosts, African history and…
Coming to terms
Decisions
Writing
Friends ~ The lifers and the new ones. I love you
You
know
who
you
are
!
Deep, deep, fucking deep LOVE
Purple
Magical
Birthday balloons and
extraordinary women
That I call friends
My Aunti D in Sonora
New Orleans ~ A Christmas Thanksgiving ~ Family
A road trip ~ Stocking up at Costco and Target with grandkids in tow
JOY
Regrets
and losses
New beginnings
My brown skin family ~ Beauty in each and every one ~ Family
Camping in Ohio and in Illinois ~ “What the fuck was that?” said with a big grin
Road trip ~ Across the USA ~ Dream
Singing all the way ~ Ozzy… No words
David Whyte, New York City
Moments in time
Not always kind
Paris… July 25th, 2025 ~ Forever in my heart ~ Medicine
Beef bourguignon
ahhh
Crème brûlée and champagne
Mexican food
in France
Dinner with strangers
Cheers to Paris
and my 57th year!
Notre Dame
Mass in French
Pilgrims and prayers
Lit candles and whispers of love, and sorrow
Grief
and happiness
A walk
Scattered ashes ~ Family
Sunbathing in Portugal
Hammocks
A special friend
Ruins and
castles
Travel ~ Healing ~ Medicine
Giverny
Monet
Flowers and
naps in meadows
A transistor radio
French music
Oh that blue
and rosé too
A painter’s
sky
The Colorado River
and scattered ashes ~ Family
Red Rocks
Hot
Stunning
Going beyond
myself
Many teachers
External and internal ~ Lessons
A reacquaintance
Music
Pain
in all 3 realms
Physical
Mental
Spiritual
Trustful surrender
Do no harm
Failed miserably
Ojai
and taffy skies
Trixie
Midnight walks
Jasmine
and great pot
Hip Vegan ~ Best dal ever! Hands down 🙂
I worked in a boutique! And loved it!
Ojai Vineyards
Libraries 🙂
First class flights
Annoying flights
A return
Bittersweet goodbyes
Many rivers
crossed
Oatmeal
Bananas
Blueberries
Cardamom
Cinnamon
and maple syrup
Never gets old
A a playful swim
Chai and laughter with Ganesha…Humming birds and
Singing bowls
More LOVE
and more Pain
and more LOVE
Houston
Kali
Breath and breath
LIFE
My kids
Amelia ~ A beautiful name ~ Family ~ Love
Longing
A job
Ibuprofen
Heating pads
Chicken noodle soup from the Chestnut Hill Co-op ~ Medicine
And then there’s Chestnut Hill and la special love
Coco Blue
Sparkle blue
Hibiscus tea
And time with my son ~ LOVE ~ Family
Spirit animals
and
sacred times
Pocono snow
and
California sun
$5.79 gas ~ What the fuck
Vista del Mar
and
Chateau Lé
Astonishing rent prices
Solo time
Swans and
owls
Dreamscapes and full moons
Mood waves
Emotions
Stillness
and endless thoughts
Quiet mind
Restless heart
Compassion, deeply
Steady
in my own chaos
Fleeting
Stoic
An alluring aversion and a quiet Peace
Brown skin girl
Brown eyes
Grey hair
Laugh lines
Age
Eternally grateful
and
mad as hell
Quiet
Talking out loud
more often
than not
to myself
Often laughing
Tears in place
of orgasm
Tired
No… exhausted in every sense of the word
Strength
Forward moving
A California King bed
Star fishing
Late night movies
Baldness
and feeling my age
History
Wisdom
California wines
California pot
The Pacific
and then there’s Big Sur
and more
LIFE to live.
