The Unclad Soul

When I was a boy, I was loved by the sweetest women in the world. My Mom, of course, beautiful in every way was one. Smart, devoted, lovingly and fiercely protective of her family. But then also, on my Dad’s side, there was my grandmother, Maude, whom I called Nana. Quiet and reserved, small and lovely, she was a tender presence. By my Aunt Laura, who was fun and beautiful with a contagious laugh, generous and open-hearted. By my Aunt Mary, tiny and petite, poised and gracious. By Aunt Florida, snow white hair and the most winsome smile, a deeply self-confident woman. On my mother’s side, there was my grandmother, Ruby, whom I called Momo. Quite simply, a saint. I adored her. My great-grandmother, Joanna, whom I called Gammy. A gifted pianist, the first female American Indian graduate in the school of music at Bacone College. Her embrace was arms of love. And there were my Aunt Emerald and my Aunt Jackie, wonderful women of grace and affection. These women taught me never to b...

“When your mother asks, ‘Do you want a piece of advice?’ it's a mere formality. It doesn't matter if you answer yes or no. You're going to get it anyway.”  ~ Erma Bombeck This is an early Happy Mother’s Day wish to all of the moms I know and love. You are amazing women and loving mothers and I admire all of you. And I hope on Mother’s Day your family showers you with generous love and thoughtful gifts and warm embraces. My mom was a lot like Erma Bombeck’s quote. Ferris Bueller would never have gotten away with any of that stuff he pulled. Mom would have looked around the room, seen the pulley strings, and pulled back the covers. No. Ferris would have been toast. Mom wasn’t one to talk into staying home from school. You had to display signs of the Ebola virus or worse to get out of going to school. “Hop up, now,” she’d say. “You’ll feel better once you get dressed.” She was always right. She was as loving as she was tough. I never doubted that she was always and fo...

Guest Post By Heather Von St. James Courageous mother, wife, writer and cancer survivor My First Year of Motherhood and My Battle with Mesothelioma My first year of motherhood was an amazing prospect.  My friends and family reminded me that it would take a village to raise my child, but I had no idea just how true this was.  Neither did I realize just how important my village would become.   I gave birth to Lily on August 4, 2005.  The emergency C-section was the only complication of the entire pregnancy, but holding my daughter was worth it.  My own village quickly surrounded me, and things were wonderful.  I expected that my recovery from the C-section would be a little challenging, but when I returned to work two months later, I was still very fatigued.  I was also breathless and this really disturbed me.   I made an appointment with my doctor.  After a battery of tests, he found the problem.  A diagnosis of malignant pleu...