It was the 90s. My Dad and brother had just died; my little community had been riddled with a string of suicides. The pastor of my tiny church was dying of cancer and I was sneaking Marlboro reds behind the oleanders with the neighbor girl. I was in the 6th grade and my world wasContinue reading “A Journal and a Jewel CD”
She doesn’t even cry. Not in front of us anyway. She’s like a rock. We’re in a hotel for days while looking for a new house. She keeps us sane, activity-filled, like the destruction of our home is somehow a fun vacation opportunity.
***from 3/15 I remember the deep and cold winter that followed the birth of my son. He was born during a snowy Colorado winter, and for reasons beyond my understanding that ice seemed to permeate more than just the exterior of my home. While I felt this incredible wonder and deep wild love for thisContinue reading “Prayers for Postpartum Moms”
I’ve always loved listening to my grandmother’s stories. After High School I made a promise to call her every Sunday. During those Sunday phone calls I learned a lot about her life. She was a career-woman, married to a career-man, balancing four children and a busy life. I remember her once telling me about theContinue reading “A Thought on Cereal”
Not too long ago I found this picture: In it I am holding my sweet newborn son, behind me, tucked into the corner was my newest fashion accessory. I think back. Just a few days’ home from the hospital with my first baby. His bright new eyes, my broken body. A baby, a walker, andContinue reading “Confessions of a Broken Body”