“Mom, I need to talk to you about something weird I’m doing. I can’t help it, and I really hate it, but I can’t stop.” Grayson’s voice on the other end of the line is flat and dejected. Borderline despairing. “Okay,” I respond, sitting down and forcing a slow inhale, “tell me what’s going on.” […]
Shamed Hearts, Soft Hands Read More »
It’s the night of October 25, 2024. I’m the only one home, and literally, alone on a mountain. The word “vanity” has been rolling around my mind the last few days, and I feel determined to understand why. The critic in me feels certain an ugly internal truth lies at the end of this curious
Civilized Vanity or Barbaric Beauty? Read More »
It’s a strange thing to read your own memoirs, even when you are the one who wrote them. Last Friday, I ironically finished my final round of proofreads in the very hotel we stayed when Caleb, our oldest, was in a coma after his rollover accident. Everything about Friday was surreal: wrapping up a very
Hotel Chicken Wings and Teary Thresholds Read More »
*This blog was written by a guest writer, who, despite my most earnest cajoling, has remained firm in their desire to remain anonymous. It’s the morning after the hailstorm. Tending to a garden full of broken plants, talking to them—broken and bedraggled—cleaning up all of the shredded stems, petals, and leaves, and saying, “You’ll be
I’ve always wondered whether it’s possible for someone to feel beautiful, but not pretty. The word occurs to me in a different way as I’m driving this morning. Beauty-full. Full of beauty. Beautiful is a state of being, whereas pretty is simply external. Perhaps this epiphany is old news to everyone except me, but as
Beautiful but Not Pretty Read More »
I sat in my car yesterday morning, mindlessly staring out my window at the elementary school playground and waiting for my daughter to emerge from our local coffee shop with two steaming morning lattes. Involuntarily, my eyes focused in on a mother walking her son into school—hand in hand. At once, my chest constricted, and
The Wild (but Glorious) Edge of Sorrow Read More »
Every day I pick up the kids from their new mountain school (it’s K-12 and maybe 300 students?), I pass a massive carcass decomposing along the side of the road. Maybe a cow or a bear? I’m not sure. But the thing I find fascinating—and oh-so- delightful—is that it’s remained on there long enough to
Guts and Poop and Gray Hair…Oh My! Read More »
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