What's with the weather?

I know, I know. Weather is about the most boring (and neutral) topic I could pick. Only...just maybe...not. At least, not this year. My husband and I just made a long drive across the deserts of northern Nevada to visit friends and family along the Wasatch Front (the Rocky Mountains in Utah). The scenery surprised us. Greatly!

I've visited these locations in the months between November and March and have found the high mountains covered in snow. That's not surprising during ski season in one of the more active ski locations in the world. I did not expect the same sight in June. June! Some of the ski runs were still open and welcoming skiers. (If you don't believe me, I won't blame you. I wouldn't have believed it either if I hadn't been there to see the deep snows myself.)

Perhaps even more shocking, the drive across northern Nevada was ... wait for it ... beautiful! I'm shocked even to see myself write that, but it was true. We passed fields where cattle grazed knee-deep in green grass while snow-covered mountains hovered in the background. Some animals drank from streams created by seasonal run-off. In one field, two antelope joined them.

Other places boasted wildflowers I have seldom seen in this dry high desert, celebrations in purple, white, and yellow. The scenes were pastoral, paint-worthy, and yes, beautiful. Unfortunately, we didn't stop long enough to get pictures there.

Meteorology is not my thing. I listen to what the broadcast weather reporters have to say and wonder what it will really mean for carrying an umbrella or wearing a jacket and I stay glued to the Weather Channel when tornadic storms threaten my kids in Oklahoma. That's about the best I do with weather.


Given that, I don't begin to understand the processes that gave us snow in June and a beautiful trip across Nevada. I don't understand them, but I can certainly appreciate them. I did and I do!

Mixed Mother's Day Emotions

Mother's Day brings mixed reactions in women. Those who are fighting infertility, who want desperately to be mothers and haven't been able to bear or adopt them, often hate the day, hide from it, and hope for it to pass quickly. Reactions to the day also vary among mothers, one mom to another.

As a daughter, I've always appreciated Mother's Day. I've given thought to gifts, to the proper way to honor my mother. Last year, I was living in the Navajo Nation, so I visited a local jewelry artist and shopped through her creations, looking for something special.

At age 93, Mom was struggling with macular degeneration and was nearly completely blind, but she had always loved jewelry. A native Arizonan with jet-black hair, she looked smashing in turquoise and silver. I chose a turquoise pendant that had a tiny, raised teardrop of lapis lazuli on the front side. Just by touch, Mom could tell the front from the back. I hung the pendant on a lovely silver chain that fastened with magnets, easy to put on or take off. I mailed the gift to my sister some days before the big Sunday and Sis delivered it to Mom on time.

Mom never wore it. By then, she was already in a downward slump. I sat by her side as she left us in early July. After she passed, I found the pendant, still in the box I sent, on the top of her dresser, waiting among her favorite jewelry pieces, the ones she loved to wear. I wear that pendant now.

As a mother, I have seriously mixed feelings about celebrating. I am deeply grateful for every one of my offspring. I miss the babies and children they were and I'm pleased and proud of the adults they've become. Their children are equally wonderful. I love being a mother and grandmother.

Still, I struggle with Mother's Day. Everyone talks as if the day is for perfect mothers who've never made a mistake, never given their children reason to be disappointed in their mothering, never caused their young to feel anything but joy about Mom. I don't qualify. I don't know any moms who do, but my personal sins and regrets have injured the people I love most in the world. How do I reconcile that with the honors and congratulations that are supposed to be part of Mother's Day?

Each year, I approach the day with both joy and regret. This year, I am choosing to put the emphasis on joy and deep gratitude for the children and grandchildren who are mine.

Mother's Day without Mom

My mother passed quietly on July 3 last year. I sat beside her, wiping her brow and checking her pulse, while she drew her last breath. She was 93, blind, and, due to a badly broken arm that could not be immobilized, in severe pain any time she moved. Given that, it was not difficult to let her go.

That hasn't kept me from missing her. Something awful. And as we approach Mother's Day, that missing starts to feel like a large hole in my life, one with very raw edges.

Moms and daughters often have complicated relationships, so it isn't surprising that ours was ... well, complicated. As the eldest child, I was supposed to be perfect. She intended me to be not only the perfect daughter, but also the fulfillment of whatever she had hoped for her own childhood, youth, and young adulthood that had not materialized in her life.

I was willing to cooperate and be all that ... to a point. But let's face it: Moms do not bear daughters with cloned personalities, desires, dreams, talents, or pretty much anything. Mom and I were different people. What worked for her was not necessarily what I wanted in my own life, and what I wanted for myself often made little sense to her.

I've tried to remember those lessons as I've raised a daughter of my own. Although we're close, our relationship is ... well, complicated.

One thing that went cosmically, wonderfully right was the last meeting between my daughter and her Grammie. From the time Rebecca was a little girl, she had wanted a sister. I didn't explain all the medical reasons that wasn't going to happen. I simply told her someone had to be youngest and she was it. Once she began to believe me, she longed for a daughter of her own. At the same time, she began planning for the four-generation pictures we would take when that little girl was born.

She had boys first, but then her daughter came to us a year ago. She telephoned her Grammie and reminded her of the plans she had for a portrait, but because they lived hundreds of miles apart, it didn't seem likely that portrait would happen soon. Then Mom's injury, and her decision to go on hospice, forced everyone's hand.

Circumstances cooperated and Rebecca arrived at Mom's little senior apartment on Sunday, July 1, with her sons and baby girl in tow. I stayed in the exercise space next door while the boys went in individually to visit with, and say goodbye to, their great-grandmother. Then my mother, daughter, and I sat down together with Macy, my baby girl's baby girl.

"Life isn't fair, Macy," my mom began. "If it were fair, I could see you." Not being able to see didn't keep Mom from holding the baby, touching her arms and legs, letting Macy clutch her finger, running her own fingers over Macy's face. She loved "seeing" our little one through her sense of touch and Macy patiently cooed through it all.

And we got the pictures Becca had longed for over decades. They aren't perfect. My mother is in a hospital gown and a sling--what she wore for the last two weeks of her life. None of us had the time to primp and I know I could have looked better, but it didn't matter. We have the pictures to remind us always of that four-generation meeting and the continuity it signals. That is especially meaningful since Mom passed two days later.

Then too, I have the pictures and a host of positive memories to remind me on this Mother's Day that, no matter how much differences sometimes come between us, we are family and we love each other.

Susan Aylworth is the author of 17 novels, all available as e-books. Her 18th is due in May. She loves her northern California home which she shares with her husband of 49 years and the spoiled cat they serve. When she can't be with her seven children, seven great kids-in-law, and 25 grandbabies, she loves hanging with her fictional offspring, the children of her mind. She also loves hearing from readers. Visit her website at www.susanaylworth.com or find her @SusanAylworth, at .facebook.com/Susan.Aylworth.Author, or on Pinterest.

Introducing Heather B. Moore

Today I want to introduce one of my most prolific (and kind and helpful!) writing friends. Have you read the work of Heather B. Moore? If you haven’t, you should. You’d probably enjoy her work as much as I do. If you have, you already know what I’m talking about.

Heather writes as both Heather B. Moore and H.B. Moore. She has an interesting background, which shows up frequently in her novels. Her dad, now retired, was a university professor with expertise in middle eastern records, history, and culture. Heather grew up in some interesting locations in the middle east. She was baptized at age eight in the Red Sea.


Because of that background, Heather has produced some wonderful thrillers set in those exotic locations. I love her Omar Zagouri novels. If you like a good mystery/thriller, you will too. LOST KING and SLAVE QUEEN are two excellent examples.

One of my favorite of her books, BREAKING JESS, is just now coming out in Audible, as have many of her other books.

Because she is prolific, she has written some excellent novels about iconic scriptural figures. One of my favorites is ESTHER THE QUEEN. She also has a series of stories about Moses and the exodus. 

As I said, she’s prolific. She also writes some lovely, sweet romances. One of her recent books that I thoroughly enjoyed is FINDING US, part of a series set in a fictional Pine Valley. I have just downloaded the eighth book in that series, ALL FOR US. Much of her work is available in both e-book and paperback and she almost always has something available free or for sale. Just now, several such books are available. 

Did I mention she’s prolific? She has a number of other books available as well. Find her at any bookseller or at www.hbmoore.com, also at www.facebook.com/heather.b.more. I believe you'll be glad you did. 

Goals

After years of setting New Year's resolutions which I largely ignored, I reached a point where I no longer set them. This year, my ambition was up and I promised myself I would publish at least five books in 2019.





So far, I'm on track. A MONUMENTAL LOVE, a novella in the Timeless Romance series, was released February 7. It is set largely in the Navajo Nation, in and around Monument Valley. Since my husband and I lived there recently, this was a fun book to write and something of a homage to our time working in and near Monument Valley among the Dineh.

Yesterday, March 20, the e-book appeared on Amazon for PARIS IN THE SPRINGTIME, the first book in my new Seasons of Destiny series. Lest the title confuse, my heroine's name is Paris. The story is set in a fictional town in the Sierras, called Destiny by the Gold Rush miners who first struck ore in this spot, now struggling to stay relevant in the twenty-first century. The paperback should be available by early April.

Now I'm at work on the second book in the series. SUNNY'S SUMMER picks up one of the people in Book 1 and tells her story. Unlike most of my stories, this one is definitely time-tied. We live in Butte County where the Camp Fire, which burned through most of last November, devastated Paradise and laid waste to much of the ridge above our town. More than 14,000 homes were lost, 50,000 people displaced, and at least 85 people died.

Here in the valley, we didn't suffer the same losses, but we had evacuation warnings, saw the fire burn without a few miles of our home, and lived under dark clouds of smoke for most of three weeks, wearing heavy masks to protect our lungs whenever we left home. We also saw the suffering of our friends and neighbors. For me, SUNNY'S SUMMER is an attempt to work through my own emotion about this catastrophe. I hope it brings healing to others.

As the year moves along, I hope to introduce AMBER IN AUTUMN and WINTER SKYE. I'm also considering a fifth book for this series.

So far, so good! If you wish, you can follow me along, checking up on me to see if I'll achieve this year's goals. As always, thanks to my readers. You keep me going.


Susan Aylworth is a wife, mother, former university professor, and author of 17 published novels with more to come. She loves to hear from readers. Contact her at www.susanaylworth.com or susan.aylworth.author@gmail.com, or on Facebook: https://facebook.com/SusanAylworthAuthor.