Larisa – In the Woods

remember how he loved you

5.14.26 ~ Elm Grove Cemetery, Mystic, Connecticut
photo by Larisa

It rained all day on May 14th. I didn’t take a single picture for the entire day. But I’m glad Larisa captured this last moment Finn had with his Grandpa, checking to see how heavy his ashes were. The two of them shared a birthday and were two peas in a pod. I will never forget how much fun it was to watch them playing together.

I chose to bury Tim’s ashes in Elm Grove Cemetery because it is located in the county where we lived for 47 years of our marriage, and because the plot was purchased by my 2nd-great-grandfather, who lies buried there with his own parents and great-grandparents and other relations. They all also lived in southeastern Connecticut, and there is still room there to bury ashes, so it seemed like a good choice. Tim & I took many walks in this beautiful cemetery, which sits on the banks of the Mystic River, just north of Mystic Seaport.

We may fear change or we may embrace it, but the planets turn, life goes on, the Great Cycles continue. These cycles move Nature and our lives through death and rebirth, through containment and release, through holding and letting go. The seed pod tightens and hardens around its precious cargo, then it breaks and releases the new life into the waiting earth.
~ Philip Carr-Gomm
(Inspiration for Life, May 25, 2026)

image credit: Wolf Rock Nature Preserve website

Later in the day we all drove up to Wolf Rock in Mansfield, our northeastern Connecticut hometown, to scatter some of Tim’s ashes along with the remaining ashes he had kept of his brother, Toby. Still raining, it was a quarter-mile hike up very rocky and very muddy terrain through the woods to the glacial erratic where Tim and his brothers used to hang out as teens. Tim and Josh scattered some of Toby’s ashes here in December 2013, but now Dan, Matt and Jed had a chance to be here to scatter the rest of them.

The next day, on May 15th, we held an afternoon celebration of life at the Zbierski House at “our” little city beach. Besides the family, we were now joined by old friends and neighbors and lots of Tim’s buddies from the ham radio clubs he belonged to. It was wonderful. I had spent weeks working on a slide show of Tim’s life which was playing on a TV continuously and started many pleasant conversations and quite a few trips down memory lane…

Below is one of my favorite pictures, taken before the first heart attack and the battle with heart disease began. The fun, empty nest, middle-aged period of our lives. He was 51 and only just beginning to go gray…

Zbierski House at Eastern Point Beach ~ photo by Jenn

I feel more settled now that Tim’s ashes have been returned to the earth and that his family got to be together to say good-bye. The trip was grueling for me physically but somehow I made it and the emotional healing was worth the effort. I’m still incredibly sad and lonely for him but am learning how to carry the grief. How to take walks without him pointing things out to me…

I think my last hurdle will be resuming family history research. It’s going to be hard not having him in the next room, doing ham radio stuff, but always ready to drop everything when I came in to share new discoveries with him. I still have those last three boxes to go through… And several other projects waiting in line…

sunset from the Zbierski House ~ photo by Jenn

whenever we’re not looking

5.11.26 ~ Race Point Beach, Provincetown, Massachusetts
photo by Jon

In May I took a whirlwind trip to Cape Cod and Connecticut to scatter and bury Tim’s ashes. Five intense days of sharing memories and enjoying the family and friends and activities that Tim used to love. It’s taking me a while to recover but I’ve decided to share a few pictures here to help me remember.

On May 11th, 27 of us headed out to Race Point Beach in Provincetown where I scattered some of Tim’s ashes on the beach where he spent many of the happiest days of his life. Tim’s brother Dan shared stories of their childhood adventures in P’town. And many in the gathering took turns spontaneously sharing their favorite memories. Moments after I scattered Tim’s ashes, we heard the particular call of a laughing gull flying overhead, gently reminding me of Tim’s wonderful sense of humor.

While we were there we took advantage of the opportunity, with all of Tim’s remaining brothers gathered, Dan, Matt, Jed, and Josh, to scatter some of their father’s ashes. Erik had died back in 2008 and also had close ties to Provincetown. And Tim’s cousin Allegra scattered some of her mother’s ashes there on the sand, too. Her mother was Tim’s beloved Aunt Delorma, who died in January, only three months after him.

We all have such happy memories of vacationing at the family home in Provincetown. The current owner of 180 Bradford St. was very gracious to allow us to leave two memorial blown glass hearts in the garden. Allegra sculpted them, with some of their ashes inside, the red one is Tim’s.

The next day, Fran, Allegra and I had an amazing family history adventure, locating 72B Commercial St., where Tim and Dan’s 2nd-great-grandparents, Elijah & Zipporah Rodgers had lived. When Tim and Dan were kids they were taken to the house and met the widow of his great-granduncle, Capt. Neadom Oscar Rodgers (1876-1953), Aunt Lil, and Neadom’s son Oscar. (Oscar was Aunt Lil’s stepson.) Allegra was also taken there, as a very small child, on a separate occasion. Tim showed me the place on our honeymoon but my memory of its location got very fuzzy.

As we were checking it out a man came down the grass-covered lane it was located on and, after explaining who I was, I asked him a few questions. One thing led to another and the next thing we knew we were sitting in the dining room of an elderly neighbor who has lived there his whole life and remembered Aunt Lil Rodgers and playing in the lane. Aunt Lil died in 1979. The information we got from him led me to find more information about the house and its occupants online.

That afternoon I took a walk on Beech Forest Trail with my sons and nieces and nephew and some of their spouses. (No one in my generation was up for the hike!) I told them the story of Tim & me taking this walk on our honeymoon, and how we took it again after getting our first digital camera in 2009. The picture of the squirrel on the sidebar of this blog came from that walk, and was my first taste of enjoying nature photography. Sadly, this time, I, and some of the others, came back with a tick.

I’m thinking the universe may be trying to tell me that fewer nature walks and more genealogy research will be my new direction in life…

At the end of this mile-long loop walk my sons discovered a poem by one of my favorite poets under glass on the top of a picnic table. They brought me back to see it and it seemed like a beautiful reflection of my mood about the changes in focus I’m going through in my life.

For example, what the trees do
not only in lightning storms
or the watery dark of a summer’s night
or under the white nets of winter
but now, and now, and now – whenever
we’re not looking. Surely you can’t imagine
they don’t dance, from the root up, wishing
to travel a little, not cramped so much as wanting
a better view, or more sun, or just as avidly
more shade – surely you can’t imagine they just
stand there loving every
minute of it, the birds or the emptiness, the dark rings
of the years slowly and without a sound
thickening, and nothing different unless the wind,
and then only in its own mood, comes
to visit, surely you can’t imagine
patience, and happiness, like that.
~ Mary Oliver
(Can You Imagine?)

…to be continued

winter walk to elephant rock

Dima called out from behind me as we walked along Elephant Rock Trail. “Look up! Directly above you!” A beautiful red-shouldered hawk was observing us from a fallen tree suspended above the trail. We noticed it had one talon curled up close to its belly. It was a pretty cold day in spite of abundant sunshine so it was probably trying to keep warm.

It had been over two years since Tim & I took this long, hilly, walk out to Elephant Rock by Morgan Creek. This time Dima, Larisa and Katie joined me. (Finn was at camp.) It looked a little different out there without leaves on all the trees.

looking down to Elephant Rock, Morgan Creek, and my family from the trail

father and daughter decide the climb up to the elephant’s head

After conquering the rock they couldn’t resist the challenge of crossing the creek on a fallen tree trunk. They kept testing their balances while standing, but finally decided to sit and scooch over bit by bit.

Larisa and I started heading back down the trail while Dima and Katie came back over the creek and then caught up with us. Watching them cross the creek the one time was more than enough excitement for me!

the harvest of a troubled year

Hard, hard it is, this anxious autumn,
To lift the heavy mind from its dark forebodings;
To sit at the bright feast, and with ruddy cheer,
Give thanks for the harvest of a troubled year.

From the apprehensive present, from a future packed
With unknown dangers, monstrous, terrible and new—
Let us turn for comfort to this simple fact:
We have been in trouble before . . . and we came through.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay
(Thanksgiving…1950)

to drift into a brown study

On Saturday my son-in-law came to my rescue and figured out how to get pictures from my camera onto my laptop, and then patiently taught me how to do it myself. My daughter spent most of her weekend organizing and updating my important papers, accounts and digital information, for which I am grateful because I am so brain-numb and overwhelmed these days.

On Sunday my friends came over for another long walk and this time I brought my camera along. Naturally I forgot to bring an extra battery but I did get a few pictures before the battery in the camera ran out. It’s a start. I’ll get the hang of things again eventually.

The change of the landscape’s prevailing tint from green to brown is not a cheerful one. Look wheresoever one may, he is pretty sure, in November, to drift into a brown study, and this is seldom exhilarating.
~ Charles Conrad Abbott
(Days Out of Doors)

I never noticed before this old abandoned car a little way off the trail. (above) It’s been completely filled with rocks. We wondered how long it’s been there.

beech leaves turning from green to yellow to brown

Also on Saturday my granddaughter and I took a walk and she found three broken-off beech twigs with yellow leaves intact. She brought them home and put them in a vase for me.

blood type and cancer risk

5.20.25 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden
‘peve minaret’ bald cypress

I can’t stop thinking about something a naturopathic oncologist told my sister, who was recently diagnosed with endometrial cancer, the same kind of cancer I had. Apparently having blood group A is associated with an increased risk of cancer, and blood group O is associated with a decreased risk of cancer. Both my sister and I have type A blood.

Coincidentally, a few days after learning this, while going through another one of my family history boxes — I’m now on box #6 of the 14 — I found my mother’s blood type A identification card from the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, where she was receiving treatment for metastasized breast cancer in 1990. She died when she was 59, in spite of four years of surgery, radiation and multiple chemotherapies.

As I was pondering the significance of now knowing her blood type, it hit me that her father, my grandfather, had prostate cancer. (I have no way of discovering what his blood type was.) With some aggressive treatments he survived his cancer and lived to the age of 95.

And then I started wondering about my grandfather’s parents. Locating his father’s death certificate I discovered that he died at age 75 of adenocarcinoma of the transverse colon, metastasis to liver. He had surgery in August of 1948 and died in July of 1949.

Finding these connections for four generations in a row is unsettling, as looking closely at genograms can often be. If I could trace it I wonder how far back the cancer line would go. All my children have type O blood so likely they will be spared from this specific cancer risk factor.

The gene for type A blood is dominant, and the gene for type O is recessive. Which means I have a recessive O gene that I passed on to my children. (They got their other O gene from Tim. One needs two O genes to have type O blood. Tim also has type O blood so that’s the only kind of gene he could give them.) It surprises me that none of them got the dominant A gene from me because the law of averages suggests that half of my children could have received it and had type A blood!

Until my sister consulted one, I never knew that naturopathic oncologists existed. After witnessing the nightmare I’m living through due to radiotherapy aftereffects she is not interested in submitting to the same recommended treatment for her cancer. We both are of the mind that sometimes, for some people, quality of life is more valuable than a prolonged quantity of life. It will be interesting to see what things we will learn about other treatments from this alternative, integrative physician.

Meanwhile, the current administration continues its efforts to cut funding for health care and cancer research. And now this:

If you’re under 65 and don’t have a chronic condition, there’s a very real chance you won’t have access to a Covid-19 vaccine this fall. Much depends on what happens next month. ACIP could defy the FDA and recommend vaccines for broader use, but that would be risky. We’ve never been in this situation before. ….. This isn’t about whether everyone needs a yearly Covid-19 vaccine—that’s a legitimate, ongoing scientific debate, and one ACIP was already tackling in June. This is about how decisions are made—and who gets to make them. FDA political appointees are sidelining expert panels, bypassing transparency, and turning public health into a performance. That might fly in other arenas, but shouldn’t when it comes to people’s health and daily lives. ….. Vaccine decisions must be rooted in evidence, debate, and transparency. ….. If this is the new model, we should all be alarmed.
~ Katelyn Jetelina
(Your Local Epidemiologist, May 21, 2025)

Closer to home, last summer I endured three episodes of seed tick bites on my legs following walks in the botanical garden. I thought I had solved the problem by using recommended permethrin as a repellent but when I took a walk there on Tuesday I was attacked again and now have 9 bites. I’m done! The pictures in this post are not worth the price I’m paying to have gotten them!

an everywhere of silver

It looked like I might not get to see the ocean before we left Carolina Beach. (The kids got to go while I was sick.) Sunday morning was our last chance and we had quite a downpour as we were packing to go, with wind so strong it created waves on the lake. But after we checked out of the vacation rental the rain had calmed down to a drizzle so Larisa took Tim & me to the beach for a quick visit before lunch and heading home.

my first view of the Atlantic from North Carolina

An Everywhere of Silver
With Ropes of Sand
To keep it from effacing
The Track called Land —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #931)

In a way it was nice to be on the beach in moody weather because we had the place to ourselves. Larisa took some pictures of us to mark the occasion.

On the way back to the car I spotted this little round leaf in the dune, standing vertically as if it was a little traffic sign. For some reason I was captivated. I took lots of pictures and even found a flower on one nearby.

Turns out largeleaf pennywort is a common native perennial that loves growing on the sandy dunes of the southeastern states. It was fun to learn about another plant found in this part of the world.

I had so much to think about on our way home. What a wonderful experience our anniversary was, and nothing at all like we might have imagined it was going to be 50 long years ago! 💙

the adventure continues

5.10.25 ~ anniversary card from Nate & Shea

Our vacation rental overlooked Carolina Beach Lake, once listed in Guinness World Records as the freshwater lake closest to salt water. It’s an 11-acre lake surrounded by a walking path, located only two blocks from the ocean. There is a great playground for the kids at one end of it. And plenty of ducks and geese to see, plus a couple of shorebirds for me. In spite of the gray skies, a few showers, and a huge downpour on Sunday morning, many walks were taken around this beautiful lake.

5.10.25 ~ Carolina Beach Lake
great blue heron

flowers from Larisa to brighten things up

While stuck inside we talked and played board games. I got a chance to do some quiet reading with Kat, and read part of one of her graphic novels. Recently I had taught her how to play mancala and so we played again and then taught it to Finn, and then to Nate & Shea, and then to Larisa. It’s very addictive!

5.11.25 ~ Carolina Beach Lake
Canada geese after a windy downpour

Dima went out to a fish market and picked up some fresh flounder for our anniversary dinner. He’s a great cook and I so appreciated the delicious fish, and not having to go out to a restaurant where it would have been terribly awkward for me, needing to bring my own special food. Larisa & Dima put together a delicious meal for everyone! I’m grateful for all the hard work they did making it a special day for us and am also grateful to Nate & Shea for making the long trip up to spend some precious quality time with us. 💙

strawberries and two more trolls

4.29.25 ~ Eno River Farm
(inside the giant troll’s mouth)

A month after we went tulip picking at this farm we came back with our grandchildren and their parents for some strawberry picking. This was their first visit, in spite of having lived in the area for many years. Of course, Kat and Finn noticed the half-buried giant troll right off the bat and wasted no time running up the hill and climbing up and down his legs and getting into his head.

look at those nostrils!
(good thing the troll didn’t sneeze)

While the kids played Dima waited in a very long line to get a bucket for strawberry picking. Then he led the gang way out into the field, at the direction of a staffer, who assigned them a row, and gave them detailed instructions. We came along with Larisa at a much slower pace and finally spotted them when Kat waved to us, and I got this picture with a zoom lens. This was larger than any strawberry field I’d ever been to in Connecticut!

I still can’t get over how early strawberry picking season comes here! On our way back to the store to pay for our haul we passed by some blueberry bushes. Maybe we’ll be back some day to pick blueberries — I wonder what month that will be in…

The plan was to play on the troll again while Dima waited in line again to pay for the full bucket. As Kat and I went on ahead of the others, and she a bit ahead of me, she circled back to me and exclaimed, “Grammy, there’s another troll in the woods!” So I followed her as quickly as I could. Up another path we found two more giant trolls, not quite as big as the half-buried one, but these were completely above ground.

Our best guess is that the troll catches children in the cage and then keeps them in the “guest” house he stands guard over.

Eventually the others caught up and Kat was very proud to show them what she had discovered. I never would have noticed these extra trolls.

The line for ice cream was too long to wait in so we decided to go into Hillsborough and find a small ice cream shop. Good choice! Had to get those strawberries home sooner than later. 😉