Dawn Wink: Dewdrops

Landscape, Language, Teaching, Wildness, Beauty, Imagination


When a Woman You Love Has Breast Cancer

I had several of these cards. They lived on our fridge, lined my pockets, were bookmarks in my books and journal.

Back from our run, Luke noticed that with his lilac-colored chew toy in his mouth, Angus and I matched. It’s important to choose one’s running attire to match your dog and his chew toy!

This piece has been a while in the making. I take a deep breath and offer these thoughts, as during my own journey with breast cancer I came to realize how very many lives breast cancer touches, whether it’s you or a woman you love, mother, sister, friend, cousin, and on and on. If a woman you love has breast cancer, I hope this piece might provide insight and ideas.

If you are the woman with breast cancer and this reflects your experience, but you may not have the words or energy to express, you can text or email this piece—”This is how I feel,” or “This is how I felt”—so people will know how to support you, without you needing to tell them.

I offer this reflection on my own experience, as I realized that when the words “breast cancer” enter a conversation, often people don’t know what to say. I can only speak from my own experience and what my mom and other dear friends have shared with me about their breast cancer journeys.

While this piece cannot encompass the infinite experiences of all women, I hope it might include common threads and make the ground firmer under your feet.

Some possible language and things to think about when a woman you love has breast cancer:

“I’m so sorry you’re going through this.” When in doubt, go with this. That was really all I needed or wanted to hear. An acknowledgement of the journey, no explaining, no joking, no trying to make me feel better, just an acknowledgment. I knew I could take the rest from there.

Listen. When this journey begins, you are bombarded with different procedures, tests, and possible treatments. Some are optional, others not so much. I learned that the decisions made are intensely personal for each woman. Listen to her and support her in her decisions. I know that I made decisions that those who love me did not initially agree with. It meant the world to me that they listened, supported me, and did not try to change my mind, even though I knew how they truly felt. It’s her body, her decisions. Listen, trust that she knows what’s best for her, and support.

Follow her lead. For some women, this is an external journey and others an internal one. Some women seek comfort outwardly, and others turn deep within. “It seems like the women I know with breast cancer go either all one way or the other,” a dear friend said to me. “Either it’s intensely public or intensely private, not too much in-between.” Whatever her natural inclination, follow that. Some women find great comfort and strength in sharing with their friend and family communities via email, social media, talking about it, sharing the journey. Whatever path the woman you love walks, follow her. It is such an internal and intuitive urge, it’s really not even a choice.

For me, the journey was extraordinarily private. It’s always been like this for me. When I go through tough times, I put my head down, go deep within to get through it, and emerge into the world after. Another reason I kept this journey private is that I did not want to see that look in peoples’ eyes. That look of sympathy. I wanted to feel and be as strong as possible.

If she is someone that goes within, often those who love her feel helpless at not being able to help or feel left out, not included. This is not personal. For that woman who needs to go within, providing her with both presence and space is an enormous support. She feels your love and presence. It’s just taking every ounce of her energy to get through this right now and when she emerges on the other side, she will connect. There are many reasons why the woman you love may go deep within for this journey. Presence and space.

Until she jokes about it, it’s too soon. I believe this comes from the very human response to make someone you love feel better through levity and humor and with the best of intentions. Until she jokes about it, it’s too soon. And, if you want to make her feel better and initially joke too soon, she understands where that comes from and the love it expresses. When my mom was going through chemo, we finally laughed when she described putting on her make-up foundation the day after shaving her head, “I went to put on my make-up today and where do you stop?” she said as she moved her hand up her forward and just kept going up and over her bare head. “Your neckline in the back?”

Grief and mourning. Her grief and mourning are real and deep. I learned later that after visiting dear friends during the depths of this journey, after I left the husband said, “That wasn’t Dawn. She just seems so sad.” I was so very, very sad. Doing my best to cover for that, but clearly there were cracks. Grief for my body. Grief about the journey. Just soul-deep grief, and I couldn’t figure out how to come out of it. I did my best to put a smile on, so as not to spread that grief. I read something Brad Pitt said about going through tough times that resonated with me, “I clean up okay on the outside, but it’s still pretty rough underneath.” That was me—with lipstick. Because my journey was private, most people did not find out until after all my surgeries, when I was on the other side of healing. Eventually, slowly and on it’s own time, the light began to shine in my soul again.

Pink. Not all women with breast cancer embrace the color pink immediately. Remember my own near Great Pink Balloon Rampage? It would be an understatement to say that I immediately embraced pink. I remember Mom expressing this, as well. Philosophically, I whole-heartedly embrace pink and the research and at last naming and holding space for a woman’s cancer marginalized in the medical community until recently that it represents. I just didn’t want to wear or see it during the most intense times. I embrace it now. It has taken quite a bit of time and I’m out of the deep throes of the journey. Other women find tremendous comfort, community, and support with pink. Whatever she feels, it is deep, visceral. Go with it.

Don’t even try to explain her experience to her. Please, please, please do not explain how she’s feeling or what she’s going through to her. That’s a great way to get throat-punched.

Just do it. If you want to provide support or show love, just do it. Do not say, “Let me know if you need anything.” That sentence hands another responsibility to the woman you love who is already doing all she can to keep one nostril barely above the water. Just send flowers or a card. Just send luxurious face creams or have take-out delivered. Put together a care package with an impossibly soft blanket that she’ll curl up under and feel your love. Send tea and candles. Bake homemade bread and send. Whatever feels right. Just do it.

If you’re the woman going through this. I’ve been on the other side of this for a few months now, some things that I would say to myself or any woman going through this. Be gentle with yourself, you’re doing the very best you can. Trust yourself and your intuition. Sleep when you can. Create a soft nest with an impossibly soft blanket, candles, tea, flowers, meds. Stay there as much as possible. Your body will be different, not worse. Embrace the stories of your scars. This one will may take a lot of time. I’m just starting to maybe get there. There’s no right or wrong way to do this. Trust what feels right for you.

While these ideas cannot encompass the infinite ways that a woman experiences breast cancer, I hope they might provide light in what can feel an opaque and unfamiliar landscape.

Follow her lead.

Trust that she knows the right decisions for her.

Presence and space.




Joan & Dawn: The Personal and the Professional

First bouquet of Summer 2020.

First bouquet of Summer 2020.

Dawn & Joan, Tucson 2019

Dawn & Joan, Tucson

In between Zoom meetings, report writing, and email today, I received a text of a piece she wrote from Joan Wink. Some know her as an internationally renowned scholar, professor, and writer. I know her as Mom. During this time of the lockdown, this piece on the intertwining of our personal and professional lives feels especially resonant. For all of us, the compartmentalization of the personal and the professional has dissolved in these past months, whether we wanted it to or not.

For Mom and I, the intentional braiding together of the personal and professional creates a primary pillar in of our personal and professional lives—each strengthening the other. Mom began writing of this piece for WinkWorld and discovered later that day that I was making a video on just this topic this for one of my PhD courses focusing on Women in Leadership.

Mom shares her wisdom and my video here: Dawn & Joan: The Personal and the Professional.

As I watched the video for the first time in several months, taken after a month spent on my parents’ ranch while my dad received treatment for prostate cancer in AZ, I flashed on Daddy, Mom, Noé, and I this past Christmas, smack-dab in the midst of my own cancer treatment. Daddy said, “I’ve heard that it’s 1 in 8 people in the US who develop cancer. In our Wink family, it’s 3 out of 4.”

“Well,” we said, “at least we’re in it together!”

As we all navigate this global journey of the lockdown, doing our extraordinarily imperfect human best to meld our personal and professional lives into the best whole we can compose, perhaps we might find ways to fuse these often separate lives together for a mutual strengthening and inspiration of each. No matter how messy and exhausting the journey (and it is), bits of beauty are sure to shine through.

At least we’re in it together!

Work day.




Wild Waters, Langscape, and Stories About the Collective Human Experience

Birthday beauty.

Thank you, thank you, and thank you to all who reached out to connect on what’s been happening in my life. Each beautiful email, post, text, card lands in my heart in deep, profound ways. If I have not yet responded, please know how much you and your connecting means to me. I will respond. I am so grateful for our shared life paths. Writing that piece after months of holding, and your loving response, created slivers of peace absent before.

Wildly, just as I re-emerge into the world, our world is now self-isolating and retreating into itself. I hope this finds you and yours safe. In our family, kids are home, we are self-isolating, and working remotely.

I was delighted to receive an email from the editors of Terralingua‘s Langscape Magazine that they are now publishing pieces online with goal is to make their “digital repository of important stories about biocultural diversity freely available at this critical time in our collective human experience.” My article, “Wild Waters: Landscapes of Language” is now a part of those available collective human experiences.

Truth be told, I just love this piece. One of my favorites ever. Please find “Wild Waters”, and many more, here.

I am running again, which is a spirit saver. It is also when I compose many Dewdrops pieces. I am working on different pieces around cancer, COVID, teaching virtually, and Harry Potter. Will keep running and hopefully get those to you sooner, rather than later!

Much love,


                                        Making videos for faculty and students.


Breast Cancer – A Chapter in the Story

“Breast cancer is no more than a chapter in my life story.

It will never be my life story.”

~Robin Roberts

Saltines and Ginger Ale. Who knew?

When I first heard that breast cancer was a possibility, these were the only things that tasted okay for months. Here’s for small miracles!

Breast cancer has been the chapter of many women’s life story in my family. Many of you know that Moms life story includes this chapter, as did my aunt’s on Dad’s side. My maternal grandmother’s life story ended in that chapter. This chapter is now a more intimate experience in my own life. This past fall I was diagnosed with breast cancer. For personal and professional reasons, I chose to keep the journey private. For all those same reasons, it now feels right to share.

During this time, I tried to focus on beauty where it could be found.

There was beauty and blessings in early detection.

There was beauty in a gorgeous AZ scene on the doors of pre-op room, very helpful to see and imagine.

There was beauty in the love and laughter in the shared prayer with our former pastor and forever friend who called before my surgery and led us in an energy-filled prayer, closing with, “Wow! I pray like a Baptist when I pray for Dawn Wink!”

There was beauty in learning that all the cancer was removed and I would not need chemotherapy or radiation.

There was beauty in the daily early morning coffee and candles during recovery.

When there were unexpected complications and I went back into surgery on December 23, there was beauty my family gathering with me at the hospital.

There was beauty in my surgeon who after complications arose took infinitely exquisite care of me through the initial emergency visit to her office on a Sunday, to the surgery the next day, then the daily, then every other day, then twice a week, then weekly care until the next surgery two months later.

Beauty in the phenomenal support and presence of my family. Every moment. Every Time. Throughout all.

The beauty of bulky sweaters! When things went awry after the first surgery, Mom, Wynn, and I went to a local consignment shop and loaded up on bulky sweaters that got me through these months. I have no idea what women do in the summer. Mumus? God bless bulky sweaters!

A gorgeous lamp store in downtown Santa Fe.

Window of my writing room.

There was beauty that in the month of October, Breast Cancer Awareness Month, before my diagnosis was final and when I walked into a breast cancer center for yet another diagnostic test and was greeted by a wall of pink balloons draping all in the two-story foyer that The Great Pink Balloon Rampage of 2019 remains only in my mind and did not actually occur. It was very, very close.

There was beauty in those whose intention is to comfort during invasive procedures. Unless you’re a person like me who during difficult times wants to be left alone to do what I need to do. So when people intending to be helpful during these procedures do not listen to me asking to please leave me alone and let me focus, there is great beauty that the visceral growl of, “If you get in my face one. more. time, I will throat-punch you,” remained unspoken.

Gratitude for small miracles.

There was beauty in the bouquet of flowers that Mom and Dad sent me after a confluence of events came as a 1-2 punch one week.

Beauty in the prayers received. I felt them deeply. Prayers made a world of difference for me. Thank you with all of my heart. Mil gracias con todo el corazón. 

Patricia De Dios

Beauty in the discovery of a cupboard beneath the stairs – a delight to my Harry Potter-loving heart.

Beauty that my recent surgery went well and my healing journey is on the upswing.

Beauty and courage in the pin given to me by a forever friend. I carry this pin with me, take it out to look at when I need inspiration, and rub my fingers across the edges when in my pocket.

I feel strong and have been working throughout.

I look forward to hitting the running trails again! The dogs look at me expectantly in the mornings, disappointed when I only refill my coffee. We will all be thrilled to get back into our daily rhythm.

I look forward to climbing back into the dissertation saddle to complete that journey.

Breast cancer is no more than a chapter in the whole of the book of my life story. This chapter definitely shapes me in new ways that continue to unfold and emerge. I don’t yet know all of the ways this will influence me. There is definitely a “Before” and “After” the diagnosis. The rest of the life story yet to be lived.




Weaving Beauty into 2018

                                      The Plaza, Santa Fe, NM

Festive holiday and New Year wishes to you and yours! 

I wanted to take a moment to wish you and yours a lovely holiday season and New Year! 

We spent ours with my parents here in Santa Fe, including a Christmas Eve walk around the Plaza.

                                  Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi, Santa Fe, NM

                        Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha, by Estella Loretto

                                                                        Christmas Eve 2017

                                                                  Gingerbread La Fonda Hotel

I found this nest with three eggs on the Christmas tree at the La Fonda. I love nests with three eggs…

                                              Eggs in nest on Christmas tree at La Fonda. 

                      Susan’s Christmas Shop

                   Gazebo, the Plaza of Santa Fe

We lucked out with the best table overlooking the Plaza for Christmas Eve treats. Wyatt was home sick. 

Writing in my journal.

I wrote in my journal by the light of the Christmas tree on December 31st, putting blessings of 2017 and dreams for 2018 to paper. Several years ago on a run during a difficult time, the phrase, “Create beauty” came to me. The next day while running, the phrase came to me again. I was very aware that the phrase was not “Find beauty” or “Discover beauty,” but “Create beauty” with an active verb. Since that time, this has informed all aspects of my life, whether it is professional, personal, or family. I try to create beauty in the world. I often fail, as I am wildly imperfect, but this mantra has grounded and inspired me for many years. 

This year as I wrote in my journal, thinking of what I hope to bring into 2018, with “Create beauty in the world,” firmly in my mind, another thought nudged its way onto the page. As I look at all to come in 2018, I thought, “How can I weave beauty into every day?”

I want to play with this idea, how to weave beauty into every day, no matter how busy or long. “Create beauty in the world” has been a sound foundation for me for so many years. I look forward to playing with this other aspect of beauty. 

Wishing you a year of of creating beauty and weaving beauty into your every day life.

                                             Santa Fe sunrise taken on an early morning run.






A Walk on the Prairies

“I think Josie’s tear is because she misses Dawn.”

For a walk on the prairies, join Mom on the ranch. Mom wrote of the photo above, “I think Josie’s tear is because she misses Dawn.” I miss Josie and all she symbolizes.

In the midst of all of the demands and pressures of life, take a moment to walk the prairie with Mom and enjoy the beauty: http://www.joanwink.com/latest/a-morning-walk-on-the-prairies/

Enjoy and with love!



A Feast for the Senses—LISTO Oaxaca 2017

LISTO Oaxaca Class of 2017, Monte Albán, Oaxaca, Mexico

Every once in a great while, forces come together to bring to life what lived first as a dream. Such is the LISTO (Language Institute for Sustainability & Transformative Education) Oaxaca program that just took place for the second year. Through the initial vision and extraordinary spirit of Cara Esquivel, a class of teachers, artists, and explorers of the world came together to live, study, and experience Oaxaca, México. LISTO Coordinator, Randy Grillo, made all possible.

LISTO Oaxaca Class 2017

Dancers on my way to my apartment. © Dawn Wink

Students enrolled in the TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) Endorsement program at Santa Fe Community College took Spanish and TESOL courses at the Ollin Tlahtaolli Centro de Lenguas y Culture Mexicana.

Students LISTO Oaxaca 2017

Centro Ollin Tlahtoalli with founder, Omar Nuñez

When students were not studying themselves, they worked with children at CANICA (Centro de Apoyo de Niños de la Calle de Oaxaca, Support Center for Street Children of Oaxaca).

Niña de CANICA @ Lia Rosen

CANICA kids © Diana Clauvan-Clements

Randy Grillo includes handprint on tree of hands of CANICA.

I include here photos of our time together. I am indebted to our students in the program and Randy for sharing the beauty of our experience. For full details of our time in Oaxaca and more photos: LISTO Oaxaca.

White dresses on blue wall © Dawn Wink

Culiapan—John Przyborowski

Frutas en el mercado ©Sylvia Chavez

Oaxaca landscape © Angelia Moore

Oaxaca beauty © John Przyborowski

Dresses of Oaxaca © Sylvia Chavez

Amazing how life life come together across time and borders. Berenice and I met in Costa Rica several years ago, came together again in Mexico for a class, and again for the past two years in Oaxaca. She and her mom, Juanita, embroidered this piece and gave to me. “Women of the market. I thought you’d like it since it’s all about the power of women, Dawn.”  No words…

Berenice and Dawn

Dancers fro Zaachila © Randy Grillo

Meat corridor in market @ Jennifer Salinas

Monos de Calenda © Joelle Meniktos-Nolting

Maize and lime, how tortillas begin © John Przyborowski

Monte Albán, Jennifer Salinas

Papel Picado © John Przyborowski

Museo Textil © Alia Benammar

© Tekla Johnson

©Angelia Moore

© Barshia Cohee

© Angelia Moore

Macrina Mateo, Mujer del Barro Rojo (Woman of the Red Clay © Dawn Wink

Flowers in market © Dawn Wink

For more thoughts, experiences, and photos of our time in Oaxaca, please treat yourself a feast for the senses: LISTO Oaxaca.

Thank you, Jennifer Salinas, for this photo.


La Casa Azul—Frida Kahlo’s House


Frida Kahlo’s studio, paints, wheelchair.

Frida Kahlo

“Pies, ¿pa’ que los necesito, si tengo alas para volar?” ~Frida Kahlo

“Why do I need feet, when I have wings to fly.

If I were to talk about my first time to visit Frida Kahlo’s house, la Casa Azul (The Blue House), in Coyoacán, Mexico, I would start with the first time I heard of the Mexican artist, Frida Kahlo (1907- 54) nearly 30 years ago and how the more I learned of her life, art, and spirit the more I fell in love.

I’d speak of her incredible life, filled with pain, passion, heartbreak, art, and joy. I’d talk of how she contracted polio as a child that left her bedridden for one year, one leg shriveled and shorter than the other, and permanently infected her spinal column. I’d speak of the trolley car accident when she was 18 that shattered her pelvis, fractured her spine, ribs, collarbone, right leg, and shoulder that caused her to live the rest of her life in braces, traction, and intense pain.

Frida had more than thirty operations and spent most of her life in pain and flat on her back. I’d speak of the self-revelatory art the years trapped in bed birthed, and how she created a life of passion, politics, travel, art, and love.

Yet, people who knew her remember for her alegria, happiness. Her biographers describe her:

Frida had huge lust for life. She had a seductive effect on many people and charmed everyone. People loved her beauty, personality, and talent. She was also known for her dark sense of humour and sharp wit. Frida loved dancing, drinking and parties. She took great pride in keeping a home for Diego and loved looking after him. She lavished attention on her pets – mischievous spider monkeys, dogs, cats and birds and adored children. She loved nonsense, gossip and dirty jokes and abhorred pretension. She treated servants like family and students like esteemed colleagues.

If I were to talk about my first time to visit her house, I might talk about how I bought the tickets first and arranged our plane tickets to Oaxaca, México around these tickets and arranged to stay in Mexico City just to see her home.

I might then talk about how after waiting in line, we discovered the tickets were not valid, since they hadn’t been bought directly from the museum. I might then talk about the lines of people wrapped around the block. I’d mention how we weren’t to be allowed in, how the people working there were quite sorry, but it was simply not possible. I’d then talk of the many conversations, my pleas (that I was wrapped in a vice-like grip around around both of their legs, begging for entrance, eyeing the security gatnd plotting the speed and height necessary for me to jump it), and the eventual gentleness of the eyes of two young people who said if we bought new tickets, we could enter.

I’d then talk of how as we moved through Frida’s home, I kept spontaneously bursting into tears with emotion.

Better not to talk and, instead, let Frida’s home, art, words, and life speak for themselves.

“Nothing is worth more than laughter. It is strength to laugh and to abandon oneself, to be light.”

Frida and Diego lived in this house 1929-1954

Frida married artist Diego Rivera, a wedding her mother described as, “an elephant marrying a dove.” Frida herself said later, “There have been two great accidents in my life. One was the trolley, and the other was Diego. Diego was by far the worst.”

Diego described her work: “I recommend her to you, not as a husband but as an enthusiastic admirer of her work, acid and tender, hard as steel and delicate and fine as a butterfly’s wing, lovable as a beautiful smile, and as profound and cruel as the bitterness of life.”

“I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best.”

Self portrait with necklace of thorns.

Frida’s kitchen:

“Nothing is absolute. Everything changes, everything moves, everything revolves, everything flies and moves away.”

Dining room:

Frida’s studio, paints, and brushes: 

“Painting completed my life.” 

“They thought I was a Surrealist, but I wasn’t. I never painted dreams. I painted my reality.”

“I am not sick. I am broken. I am happy to be alive as long as I can paint.”

Frida’s bedrooms:

Day bedroom, with mirror above for painting.

“I think that little by little I’ll be able to solve my problems and survive.”

The Two Fridas

Night bedroom, with butterflies above.

Frida’s dresses and braces:

“Enagua: a long skirt with a waistband that has a ruffle sewn to it. 

The adornment of the Tehuana dress is centered around the upper part of the body. Chain stitch blouses, flowers, highly decorated jewelry, earrings, necklaces and rings will always be concentrated from the torso up, obliging the viewer to focus on Frida’s upper body and providing her with the opportunity to edit and fragment herself, distracting the viewer from her legs and lower part of her body.”

Frida’s courtyard and gardens:

La Casa Azul courtyard.

Noé in the courtyard.

“I wish I could do whatever I liked behind the curtain of ‘madness’. Then: I’d arrange flowers, all day long, I’d paint; pain, love and tenderness, I would laugh as much as I feel like at the stupidity of others, and they would all say: Poor thing, she’s crazy! (Above all I would laugh at my own stupidity.) I would build my world which while I lived, would be in agreement with all the worlds. The day, or the hour, or the minute that I lived would be mine and everyone else’s – my madness would not be an escape from ‘reality’.” 

Frida’s gardens.


In Celebration of Heroines—Moms and Daughters

Wynn, Dawn, Joan, 2001

But behind all your stories is your mother’s story, for hers is where yours begins.
— Mitch Albom

It is fitting that May brought both Mother’s Day and Wynn’s high school graduation. It is fitting to celebrate both of these women in the same month—both of these women are my heroines. A heroine, as defined by Dictionary.com:

          1. a woman noted for courageous acts or nobility of character:
          2. a woman who, in the opinion of others, has special achievements, abilities, or personal qualities and is regarded as a role model ideal
Both of these descriptions express the exceptional character and spirit of Mom and Wynn. I dedicate this piece to the celebration of all of our moms and daughters in all of their unique strength and spirit. When I visualize the connections between mothers and daughters, an infinity sign appears. There is no beginning and no ending, but instead a forever connection, threading each new generation with the women whose lives created her own.

“I never knew how much my heart could hold until someone called me Grammie.” ~Joan Wink

Mom and me, 2017

Mom and Wynn share granite strength under their generous spirits, smiles, laughter, and kindness. Both of these women have chosen to shape their lives not defined by the challenges that life held, but instead by what they want to share with the world—generosity of spirit, kindness, and love. On the days when I feel weak under the pressures of life, I don’t look far for inspiration. On those days (weeks, months, years…) when the weight of life feels too much, I look to the experiences of Mom and Wynn and how they handle them. Whatever I may be experiencing soon pales in comparison.

I have been blessed to have a mom who lives how to create a life abundantly rich in passion for family, friendships, and career. She greets all aspects of life with as much—if not more!—energy now than ever before. She shows me how to live a life of love and positive energy with family, friendships, and passion for what we do at the core of all. “Bloom where you’re planted,” she tells me. In states and on ranches across the West—Wyoming, Arizona, California, Texas, and South Dakota—she has not only bloomed, but
tirelessly encouraged others to do so, as well.
Wynn composes the art of her life through each individual act. She chooses each word and thought expressed with deep intention. Again, again, and again, I have witnessed her choose kindness and love in all situations, including situations that tend not to inspire responses of kindness and love. Wynn lifts herself beyond the situation and into the greater context. Her generosity of spirit and graceful way of living humble and inspire me.
The strength of character, way of walking through this world, and essence of love of both of these women inspire me every single day.
 So to celebrate Mother’s Day and Wynn’s graduation seemed only fitting.
For Mother’s Day, we made our annual Mother’s Day pilgrimage to Restaurante Rancho de Chimayó, where we had the traditional prickly pear lemonade for kids and prickly pear margaritas for adults. Luke drove up from Tucson to join us. Wyatt was at 14,000 ft. on a mountain doing what he loves and guiding a trek.

Mother’s Day 2017, Wynn, me, Luke

Prickly pear lemonade for kids and margaritas for adults.

I saved my gift from Mom to open:
 From Mother’s Day we segued right into Wynn’s graduation from St. Michael’s High School. Mom and Dad arrived, just as they did for Wyatt’s graduation, and Luke’s. It’s not a Wink event unless you’re lifting something heavy and working, so for this graduation, our goal was to get a roof on the ramada! Dad immediately grabbed a hammer and dove in with Noé.
 When the great day arrived, we all piled into the pick-up. Mom’s face should be right with the boys.
Off to the Cathedral Basicilica of St. Francis of Assisi for the graduation ceremony.

Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi

Our graduate!

Grammie and Bop Bop love Wynn.

Wynn and Noé

After graduation festivities. Luke, me, Noé, Wyatt


May was a big month for my heroines, Wynn and Mom. Both begin a new chapter of life. Wynn with high school graduation and Mom with her appointment to the South Dakota Board of Regents. It is a blessing to be the generation between two women who never cease to amaze, inspire, and strengthen me. Congratulations and love from the bottom of my heart to you both.

In celebration of the magnificence and wonder of heroines.

Wynn and Grammie, 2017

Wynn and Grammie, 2001