Just Under The Wire…

Dear Hunter –

I posted in July. It looks like I will barely get a post written in August. Barely still counts. So I am patting myself on the back.

I returned from Alaska a month ago and worried about leaving you for a month and a few days. You are getting some grit with your dad but I still worried about how you would manage if he went off the rails, so to speak.

But from what I surmise so far is that the time together has gone well enough. That and you fished your heart out. Seeing pictures of you doing something you love makes my heart sing and my eyes leak.

I have spent the month:
Being sick for 10 days
Recovering from skin cancer surgery on my face for a week
and soaking in the peacefulness of home.

You know how people say ‘homesick’? Well, I have been son-sick.
Your time with us is growing short. Yeah, I know. Your Senior Year is 5 years away. For you it will seem like an eternity.
For me, it will be the blink of an eye.

You are taller than me. And… in so many ways you are also physically stronger than me. As an older parent – one whose friends are now grandmothers – I KNEW this was an eventuality. But I didn’t know how it would feel when the day came. I feel nostalgic for that little boy. I feel unmeasurable pride for this young man blossoming before my eyes.

My heart overflows, sweet boy. Overflows.

My sweet boy at the Anchorage Museum

Love,
Mom

Chasing Birds

At a Juneau laundry-mat

Folding hot clothes

I looked around

But you weren’t there.

I looked out the window

The sky threatening rain

And I saw you again

As you were

At one

At three

At seven

At eleven

And all the years in between

Chasing birds in a crusty parking lot

Pure joy on your face

Run, my strong boy, run.

I hope you always chase the birds

I hope I always get to see you do it.

~Annie Ricci~

Love,
Mom

Negative Thoughts?

What’s the best way to deal with negative thoughts?

After working on myself for … I don’t know?… at least 4 decades…
And after years of education, hundreds of hours counseling people in the therapy room, and thousands of hours as a certified coach …

I don’t think there is only ONE BEST way and there isn’t a one-size-fits-all practice.

I think that noticing it, naming it, and the getting curious about it can be a way to deal with negative thoughts.

Recognizing this is the voice of the safety instinct or the worried part of us or the voice of a critical person in our lives, or the voice of social rules helps us to get a sliver of distance.

Noticing and naming it: Oh, that’s the ‘meanie’ that lives in my head doing its thing again.

Curiosity: What’s this negative voice telling me? What is it afraid of? What is it protecting me from? What is another, more realistic thought?

That little bit of distance can help us see that just because the negative thought was the first on the scene and the loudest, it does not have to be the ONLY one.

More curios question to ask ourselves: What’s more likely true? If I didn’t listen to this first thought, what is possible? If my best friend or someone who loved me just as I am were talking to me, what would they say?

——————
Neuroscience research shows that if we start speaking kindly to ourselves – like we would to someone we care about – ex: You got this. –
more often, then we start to feel better and negative thoughts begin to loosen their grip on us.

It’s hard to tie this all up in a neat little package. And like I said, there is no one-size-fits all solution. But, from my own experience and that of my clients, I see these practices (and it IS a continual practice) be effective in quieting that negative voice so it doesn’t keep holding us back or making us feel crappy.

Just my 2 cents.

Healing Takes Time

Dear Hunter,
Man, spring break 2026 was harsh and cold and ended with a bang.

Like a door slamming closed on life before that storage unit moment
and all that came after.

The deconstruction of what we thought was safe and secure
only to find out that the human parts of us
can get really scary.

If I could have been with you and dad in that moment,
I might have been able to prevent it.

Instead, the best I could do was damage control afterward.
And daddy and I struggled with the whole thing — for weeks.

I was scared.
You were scared.
And it brought us closer.

But pushed dad into the cold Montana spring.
Left out.
Unsupported.
I found it so hard to understand it all.

I fought my way back to myself,
my true self,
my mother-self,
my peace and your dad.

When I saw your dad trying,
when I listened to him with my heart — finally —
I was able to release my fear and anger.

And all that while, I held you close.
I kept talking to you.
Reminding you that you did nothing wrong.
And that everything was going to be ok.

And Hunter —
it is.
We are.
You are.
All my love,
Mom

Baseball field

Ugh…

Yep – sometimes life feels like a dumpster fire.

Just when a person thinks that they are over one particularly challenging hump on life’s road and ready to run on all cylinders once again, –

WHAMO – life says, “Not so fast, sweetheart.” And it hands whacks you in the back of the head with a freshly milled two by four (2×4).

I find myself at a lost for words that encompass what my heart and soul feel right now. My mom often used the saying, “I feel like I’ve been drug through a knothole backwards.” Yeah, mom, I feel it now, too.

Without the elaborating on the details, I am struggling to deal with strife in our family. I thought my partner was open to trying new ways of relating to our kiddo along with the world around him. I thought I had developed the ability be in a conflict and speak up when it was most needed.

Looking back at the past two and a half weeks, maybe not.

And as the stress hormones start to subside, I just feel tired. Tired and ineffective. And like I am failing at my most important job:
Motherhood.

Oak at Thirteen

Tall now. Strong.

You are oak—
bark-rough at the edges,
but still tender
where the heartwood holds.

I watch you branch out,
reach for sky
you’re not sure
you’re ready for yet.

Always adventurous—
fearless in forests
awed beneath mountains.

When you retreat—
a door closes soft,
and I feel your pull
away from me
toward solitude.

You experiment.
Try on voices
stances
jokes
ones that land
and ones that fall.

School feels hard.
The struggle real
heavy on your shoulders,
carries questions
you cannot answer yet.

But here is what I know:

You are oak.
Strong in ways
you won’t understand for years.

Rooted in your family,
in Montana soil
and Alaska skies
and in my love.

Branch out, sweet boy.
Reach. Stumble. Get Up.
Always
Get
Up.

~love, mom~

Oak in Spring (image purchased @ Shutterstock)

May You…

To the world beyond Broken Leg Mountain….

May your loved ones come home tonight
May your days have less dark and more light.

May you be held when you feel weak
May you feel strong if you turn the other cheek

May you feel the sun and breath fresh air
May you trust love when you feel despair

May fear melt away like snow in spring
May your heart soar on butterfly wings

May health be with you all your days
May friends come in unexpected ways

May joy find you when you least expect it
May you feel your worth and self-respect

May you live each day like you’ll be here a short while
And may your last breath leave you with a smile

~annie ricci~

Despair

How did we get here
in a moment so callous
unrelenting indecency?

How did we get here
in this place where
moms and nurses are shot?

How did we get here
where government rips
families apart?

How did we get here
in this moment where
billionaires call the shots?

How do we get out of here?

~annie ricci~

**written on a day where despair over what is happening with our government and political climate is looms big in the moment.**

Not Just Another Day….

Dear Hunter,

Today isn’t just another day. It’s a hard day. I came down with a doozy of a cold and cough. And I spent the day on the couch when dad took you to school. And, of course, I scrolled reels a little too much.

I get more emotional when I am under the weather. When the mom/son reels rolled through my screen, I found myself tearing up. I have told you this; but, I’ll say it again: I wish I could turn back the clock and do it all over again with you but do it better. Be more patient. Be more relaxed. Be a better Me for you.

I try not to regret or live in the past or beat myself up for things I think I did wrong. I try to forgive myself my shortcomings.

It’s a hard day for me today because I have sat with my younger-mom self and cried. I told her she did the best she could with what she had at the time. And that she’s an amazing mom today…just like she was in all the days up to today.

Even being ill, I feel like the work I have done on me bolsters me. I am more patient as I go through a box of Kleenex. You will bring your boisterous 13-year old self through the door any minute. And I can’t wait.

A day will come to pass when I no longer walk the earth and day you’ll read this blog and you’ll come to today. So hear me now…

Hunter – you are everything. You are blood and bone. Air and laughter. Intelligent and generous. Keep growing into the best version of yourself, son. You are worth the work that takes.

And I know that because you are my son. If I can do it, so can you.
I love you.
Love,
mom

From One Mother To Another

For R.G. ~rest in peace~

Sis –
How do I hold this?

You lit up your corner
of the world
And in a flash
on a hard street
he extinguished your light

Sis –
How do any of us hold this?
You died
while your sweet son waited
while your wife’s heart shattered
like the shot-out window

Sis –
Montana mom to Minneapolis mom
my heart aches for
all the things
that you won’t do…
make breakfast
kiss a forehead
bounce a grand baby

Sis-
You brave soul
living your values of love
and compassion
setting the example for all
paying the highest price
That is a true follower of Christ

Sis-
I whisper your name
to stars
I hold your children
in my prayers at 4 am
from one mother to another—
I am so sorry.
I am so, so sorry.

~annie ricci~

Northern Lights over the mountains