Heartbroken

I had a dream a while back, it was a few weeks or a few months, I can’t recall. What I do remember, in the dream one of my pups died. I don’t remember which dog, Danny or Lily. I don’t remember how they died. But what I do remember it was an emotionally charged dream—or more aptly nightmare. And I do remember the relief I felt when I woke up and discovered it had all been a horrible dream, and both my sweet pups were still with us.

This morning, I woke up and was not so lucky. What happened yesterday had not been a dream. Our, loving, exuberant, goofy, sweet Danny boy is gone. He died yesterday in a tragic, stupid, senseless accident, and unlike the nightmare, this one is too real.  To say Don and I are devastated and heartbroken would be a gross understatement.

We have loved, lost, and grieved for other dogs before. But somehow this is profoundly different, both Don and I feel it.

Part of it I suspect, the cause of death was so senseless. Our other beloved dogs passed from old age or illness, while Danny’s was a fluke accident. While jumping up on the sofa to bark at someone who had come to our front door, he somehow managed to fall off the sofa, and when doing so fell on his back and died minutes later. I was by his side, and I don’t know if I will ever get the sight and the sound of his final howl out of my head. It haunts me.

I believe dogs come to us during different seasons of our lives. Dogs who come to us before we have children—or instead of having children. With us, Danny came to us in a season of our life that made his loss more impactful than our other pups. And it’s not because we didn’t love them as much.

Don and I have raised our children. Don’s retired, and I work at home, making up stories in my head that I share with the world.  We don’t have the same social life as we did when we lived in Arizona.

Our daily life consisted primarily of Don, me, Danny and Lily. And we loved it. The simple pleasure of sitting outside and watching Lily playfully chasing Danny around the yard and seeing how he would intentionally slow down so she could catch up to him, gave us immeasurable smiles. Or how they would wrestle in the house on rainy days.

We were living in Arizona when Danny came to us. A tiny pup, we picked him up and I held him all the way home on my lap, some four or five hours. After that first ride, Danny bonded with me. He loved Don, but we all knew I was Danny’s person. 

Lily came into our home several months later. She was a little over two months younger than Danny. They bonded immediately. Best of friends and play pals. While they are not siblings, we had no intentions of breeding them. In our hearts they were siblings. Those two loved each other. And my heart also breaks for Lily. 

Lily could sometimes be snarky with Danny, but being so good-natured, he always took it.  Yet if Lily thought another dog was picking on Danny, she would immediately jump in and be his defender. While I was Danny’s person, it we took Lily to the vet without him, when we returned, it was Lily he wanted to see first, not me.

Danny was my shadow. If I went out to the family barn without taking him, he would sit by the window in the house waiting for me.  At night he slept by my feet, at the foot of the bed. If I walked by the mattress before going to bed, he would roll over and show me his belly, wanting tummy rubs.

Danny was a barker, but he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He loved to annoy our son, who lives next door, by barking at Scott every time he would see him yet would then immediately beg for Scott to give him belly rubs when Scott got closer.

Danny loved playing ball and the only time Lily chased the ball was if Danny was playing. But if she got the ball, she refused to let it go.  This was the reason we had more than one ball. Because if Lily grabbed the ball first, Danny would find another, bring it to me, and then I would throw it again. Lily, of course, would race Danny to the new ball…and the game would continue, with Danny bringing me a ball and setting it on my lap. If I failed to throw it, he would nudge the ball at me. Damn, I will miss that.

I will miss how Danny would run along the end of the back yard, as if on patrol. I will miss how if he was in the back of the yard and I was on the patio, if he saw I was about to go into the house without him, he would race up to the house, reaching the door before me.

There is so much I will miss. I know dogs only come into our lives for a relatively short time, but I thought I had more time with Danny. He would have been seven on July 1 of this year. Yet the truth is, no one ever knows what will happen tomorrow, an hour from now, or the next minute.

I love you so much, Danny. I imagine Mom met you when you passed over. I know she will take good care of you. You are profoundly missed.

Who is Mother’s Day for?

I joined TikTok about four years ago, intending to promote my books. But with the uncertainty of TikTok staying around, I stopped making regular videos, not wanting to put too much time in a social media platform that might vanish at any moment. Yet, that didn’t mean I stopped watching TikTok videos.

As a writer I see TikTok as a wealth of story fodder. I’m not talking about plot ideas for stories—I am referring to character profiles. Especially interesting to me is to hear what members of the younger generations have to say.

A topic that seems to come up around Mother’s Day each year, is an idea expressed by some millennial mothers, the notion that Mother’s Day is for mothers in the trenches, AKA mothers with young children still at home.  By the comments on the videos, there are many young mothers out there in agreement with this sentiment.

This viewpoint stems from the resentment they harbor at being expected to participate—or help facilitate—celebrations at their mother or mother-in-law’s homes or locations of choice, when it is them—the mothers currently “in the trenches” who should be able to decide how they want to spent “their day,” which might be nothing more than staying home alone, binging on Netflix while someone takes the littles off their hands for the day.

And while I get the desire to have an entire day to do just what you want and not worry about someone else’s needs, I wonder if claiming Mother’s Day as that day, is sort of missing the point of Mother’s Day.

Now I can’t speak for all mothers out there; we all have our own personal experiences. Some women aren’t close to their mother’s or their partner’s mothers. But for many of us, the other mothers in our lives helped us to be better mothers—and often helped us to navigate those trenches.

Looking back over the years, I can’t imagine excluding my grandmothers or my mother from Mother’s Day and wanting to keep it to myself. It’s not like they suddenly stopped being mothers when their kids became adults. 

If I wanted a day designated to me, the more appropriate day would be my birthday. My mother—who I lost just seven months ago—never for a moment stopped being a mother. She helped me during those more trying times of young motherhood.

Speaking of which—I remember what my mother told me about the “trenches.”  When I first became a mother, Mom told me that the constant demands of early motherhood—caring for an infant and then a toddler will seem overwhelming, but to remember it is not forever—in fact, that brief moment of motherhood is over fairly quickly.  She was right. Although, if you are a mother of twelve children, I will understand if you disagree.  

The first year I was in the “trenches” I was lucky, because Mom was around a lot, helping me with my newborn son. I wish I could have been as helpful for my daughter, when my grandkids were little, but during those years we lived states apart. However, we were able to go to California and help for a time, when our granddaughter was born, and when my grandson was born, I flew to Alaska to help take care of my granddaughter.

Motherhood is for a lifetime.  We don’t stop worrying about our kids when they leave home, or when they get married, or when they move across the country away from us. I know mothers who are helping to raise their grandkids, who have helped their kids get an education, start a business, or buy a home. 

Of course, not all mothers, just like some mothers never step foot into the trenches. Take my paternal grandmother, for example. She and my grandfather divorced not long after my father’s older brother was hit by a car and killed. Neither Grandma nor my grandfather stuck around to raise their remaining son, my dad. Instead, they left Dad to be raised by his maternal grandparents, while my grandfather married another woman, and raised her daughter as his, and Grandma took off with a traveling salesman, who she later married.  Dad was just 3 years old when his only sibling was killed.

So, was my paternal grandmother unworthy of a Mother’s Day? No. My Grandma Madeline proved to be a far better grandmother than mother. I lived with her for a few months when I was in college, right before I got married. And when I was first “in the trenches” after the birth of my first child, I remember visiting her in the nursing home. I had brought along her first great-grandchild to meet. I remember how she looked at my son with longing, and the comments she made about my apparent love and devotion to this tiny human. Her wistful comments were not reflecting on how she had failed as a parent—but that she could not remember anyone loving her that way. She was thinking of what her childhood lacked—not what her son’s childhood lacked.

While some might see that as profound selfishness, I disagree. Humans are complicated. The last Christmas Grandma was well enough to cook, she prepared a recipe from Dad’s childhood, one he had mentioned weeks earlier. Dad hadn’t asked her to make it—in fact Grandma, who had been an amazing cook, had lost her touch at the stove. But it was her way of showing her love. It took a lot of her energy to make that dish for Christmas dinner, and while it didn’t taste as Dad remembered, I think he could taste the love. Some women excel during all phases of motherhood, while others stumble and fall short.  

Since Ai is the newest rage, I decided to ask it to estimate, using current data, what percentage of mothers don’t fall short, and who were loving and nurturing. Ai estimated 80%. With that being said, I can’t agree with the notion that Mother’s Day belongs primarily to those moms in the trenches, AKA with children at home.

Motherhood does not come with an expiration date.  And there is something else to consider. The most effective way a parent can teach a child is by setting an example—not lectures or nagging. 

So, remember, how young mothers treat their mothers on Mother’s Days, will ultimately teach their children how to treat them.

As for me, I’ll be spending a quiet Mother’s Day at home.  I was lucky enough to spend almost two weeks with my daughter and grandkids at the end of April, and since they live in California, and we are in Oregon, we won’t be spending today together. My son is working all day, and just sent me a happy Mother’s Day text. But my husband and I had a great dinner out with our son and his wife last night, so all is good.

To be honest, this Mother’s Day I am not pouting about not being surrounded by my kids and grandkids. The first thing I thought about this morning, when drinking my coffee, was how if Mom was here, I’d be making her chili rellenos for breakfast, and using the fancy dishes. Mom loved that.  I would love to be making Mom a special breakfast today. 

Happy heavenly Mother’s Day to Mom! Thanks for being my mom and one of my best friends.  And happy heavenly Mother’s Day to my MIL Doris, who was a great Mother-in-law. And happy heavenly Mother’s Day to Grandma Hilda and Grandma Madeline. Happy heavenly Mother’s Day to Auntie Margaret. I love you all!

Happy Mother’s Day to my daughter, Elizabeth. You are an amazing mother. Your kids are very lucky to have you!

And happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there!

The Ghost and Wednesday’s Child here!

It’s the official release day of The Ghost and Wednesday’s Child, the 36th book in my paranormal cozy mystery series, Haunting Danielle. The last time I checked, it was ranked as the number one new release under Ghost Mysteries over on Amazon. 

You can find it in eBook and paperback format at my online bookstore. You can find links here to purchase the books at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, Google, and Smashwords.

The large print paperback should be available any day now at Amazon. The audiobook will be out June 24, 2025.

The next book in the series—The Ghost and Christmas Magic—comes out the end of November and is available for preorder at my online bookstore, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Apple.

A heads up on something—when you preorder at Amazon, you won’t pay for the book until it is delivered while it’s necessary to pay when you preorder on some other sites, including my online bookstore. However, when you preorder from my online bookstore, you will receive the eBook a few days earlier than the official release date.

Why is that?  The prepay thing is more a technical thing I can’t change—I don’t have the same options as a large site as Amazon to offer that option.  As for the early delivery from my online bookstore, that is because Amazon and the other sites require book files be uploaded days before the official release date. 

When uploading the finished files, they are typically loaded to all the websites on the same day. Unlike sites like Amazon, once the finished file is uploaded, I have the option to release it on the same day.

So, if you want to preorder, you have several options to consider when selecting your vendor of choice.

If you are looking for the audiobook version of The Ghost Who Sought Redemption, it is slated for release May 27, 2025. 

Hope you enjoy the new book!