Where There's Smoke

Some days She speaks to me more than others. Just this evening, a man came in wearing black-and-white-checked Vans, then I saw a children's book authored by Lauren Child. I see You, gurlie. I see You loud.

It's OK to ask me about Her. Don't be concerned that mentioning Her will bring Her to mind and make me sad. She's never not on my mind. And I'll always be sad that She's gone. But I'll also always be happy that I had Her in my life. Not just happy...blessed. I will always think of Her. Every day. Some days, all day. Those days can be really heavy. But when you ask me about Her, it tells me you cared about Her, me, or both of us. That makes the heavy just a little bit lighter. On the less heavy days, asking me about Her makes me smile. I think of some silly thing She did that made me laugh. Or some crazy thing She did that made me shake my head. But it always reminds me how fortunate I was to have Her in my life for 27 years. I don't talk about Her nearly as much as I think about Her. I don't want you to have to feel the heavy. So even though I talk about Her sometimes, I keep most of it to myself. And that can be a little bit lonely. But that's OK.

Welcome to your life There’s no turning back On May 6, 2023, at 1:46 am Eastern Daylight Time, Lauren Renee Higginbotham died of multiple organ failure due to cirrhosis, resulting from alcohol dependence. She died of what is commonly called alcoholism. Lauren was 30 years old. And she was my daughter. It’s my own design It’s my own remorse Help me to decide Lauren knew she was an alcoholic. She entered her first alcohol treatment program at age 21. Over the next nine years, Lauren was treated multiple times for alcohol abuse and dependence, as well as other issues related to (and not related to) alcoholism. At one point, she had remained sober for more than one year before once again drinking, which she knew would not turn out well. And it didn’t. Help me make the Most of freedom and of pleasure Lauren loved the beach. She lived most of her life in Florida, so it’s what she knew and where she found peace. Lauren also loved her friends. She was what I like to call a “friend collector.

 Your dog has no idea where their fresh water comes from. They just know that when their throat is feeling a little parched, or if they need a drink to wash down some kibble, or if they’re just bored, they saunter to the water dish and it’s filled with fresh, clean, cool water with which to slake their thirst. (Or water with ice, if your dog is particularly spoiled/loved). The expression of joy bordering on ecstasy on the face of your favorite pup after they drink illuminates the room. They went to their dish, lapped up some refreshment, and they turn to you with such an expression of bliss as to say, “I cannot believe how amazing the world is and how fortunate I am that I am blessed to have been able to partake in such a magical life moment!” Or words to that effect. Their response is not to run over to hug your leg and say, “Thank you, dear friend, for having done such a kind and wonderful thing for me!” It is simple joy and gratitude that the water (with ice) was there. Yum! They us

Charles Edward “Chuck” Mayes was born on January 18, 1934, at the Presidio of Monterey, California. His mother, married often, was at the time married to a man named George Mayes, a soldier stationed in California. Chuck Mayes is my Father. My Dad never talked about knowing George Mayes. In fact, throughout his life, he never was quite certain if George was his Father. He never talked much about his childhood at all and most of what I know about it came from my Uncle George, my Dad’s younger brother. Dad was one of nine children -- two girls and 7 boys. From what I understand about his childhood, it was largely focused on surviving challenging circumstances. I’m not really clear about where he lived during most of his youth but I do know he spent time with a grandfather in Webster, Massachusetts. Aside from that, when Dad talked about where he grew up, it was more about the living circumstances -- foster homes and living with family members -- than a particular geographic location. At

I recently had a discussion on social media with someone about the effects of slavery on the overall economy of the early United States. The discussion (predictably) included inputs from some whose comments seemed more intended to divide than unite. On social media ! I know...right?!? I was presented with the following question: "So it sounds as if cotton and slavery are very intertwined. What shall we do?!" While it might have been intended to be dismissive and/or snarky, I chose to accept it as an honest inquiry worthy of a thoughtful response: What shall we do? My reply: I certainly don't claim to have all the answers but here are some thoughts about what we could do: -        Acknowledge the fact that at the time of our great Nation's declaration of independence from England -- a declaration that included the phrase, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that the