Last week a 6-year-old Alabama boy is murdered in the backseat of his Mother’s stolen car. Yesterday a home-made bomb maims and kills over twenty people. From the cozy interior of my Utah home life hasn’t changed. But it has. It does. The weight of life’s seemingly endless cruelty and senselessness can be together all… Continue reading How We Cope
I had the pleasure of meeting Rachel Dawn, author of NowWhat?, over the summer. She was warm and incredibly transparent. The world needs more of this, pure honesty. This is me, this is what happened, this is how I’m using it. Her book Now What? shares the lessons she learned rebuilding her life after divorce, regaining her… Continue reading Now What? —Meeting Rachel
So thank you, Gene. Thank you for making this sometimes-too-serious girl giggle. Thank you for the roaring belly laughs. Thank you for a humor that is and always will be multigenerational. Thank you for bringing my family close through your absolute silliness. Just thank you.
I looked at the dish. My hands shaking as they held the pieces. I looked at my son. As calmly as I could, looked at my husband and said “I need some time.” In my room I closed my eyes and let the tears flow. It was true. Mommy was sad.
Because what my computer doesn’t know is that you’ve been gone now for two years. My computer doesn’t know how aggressive your skin cancer was. My computer doesn’t know that we stayed up late with you in your last days, that we stood over you hand in hand praying, that we whispered into your ear “it’s okay, now, let go.”
My Dad was far from perfect, my parents fought and struggled. But on July 2, 1995 none of that mattered. Perfect or imperfect, he sacrificed himself out of love. It wasn’t my fathers gear that held him to the bottom of the ocean that day, it was love.
February is one of my favorite months out of the year. At the beginning of the month we celebrate my son’s birth, at the end of the month we celebrate my daughters’, mid-month we celebrate my favorite made up holiday, which justifies eating lots of dark chocolate and heart-shaped cookies. But in the midst of all… Continue reading February Love, February Grief