There is a drawer on the far-right side of my entryway table that I do not touch. This is ironic because before Andrew died, I resorted to the drawer religiously. Every hour, I rushed to it in hopes of finding something, anything, that might put out whatever fire we were currently staring into. This drawer … More You Win
Skip the turkey—load up on mashed potatoes. That’s my plan this year. That’s my plan because I don’t actually like turkey that much. That’s my plan because I do really like mashed potatoes. That’s my plan because my late husband felt the same way, and he always wanted to skip on the turkey and load … More My Holiday Wills and Wont’s
Grief is dreaming. It is me watching, working, manufacturing the process of making all of your dreams come true, even if you’re not here to see it. Grief is the fear of the bittersweet ache sure to appear on the day that I start pursuing my own dreams again. Yours are easier. Yours keep you … More Grief
“And when the broken-hearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer: Let it be.” In a world of division, so many are seeking that “thing.” That thing that crosses over strong barriers. That thing that can sew together even the most divided of adversaries. That thing that all can relate to, … More Pain, The Beatles, and a Love Note to My Readers
I flung myself off of the mountain months ago. Maybe I didn’t fling, maybe I was pushed, maybe I tripped. I don’t exactly know how I ended up in a free fall, but I know that about a year ago, I ended up free falling, and not in the cute Tom Petty kind of way. … More Rocky Rocky Rock Bottom
I have lived a million people’s tragedies, and I always seem to live it way better than they do. I mean, we all have, right? We’ve read books and watched movies. We have heard, seen, read people’s stories. We hear stories about the many things that create a life, and unfortunately, much of that is … More Tragic Grace
Yellow yarn, pink hook. “It’s a snake,” eight-year-old me said holding up a long chain of crochet. I remember the warmth of my grandma’s living room. I remember the smell of roast in her kitchen. I remember the color of the yarn- yellow. The color of the crochet hook- pink. “It’s wonderful,” she said, examining … More Heaven, Grandmothers, and Little Old Crochet Hooks
My 65-year-old neighbor puts my trashcan out on the street for me every Friday morning. It’s the smallest gesture, but it means the absolute world to me. My next-door neighbors are originally from Nigeria. Earlier this year, they learned that my husband had stage four cancer, and the wife of the pair rushed out one … More First World Probs.
One of my favorite stories in the Bible is the one about Elijah giving the prophets of Baal hell. Doesn’t sound familiar? Probably because this isn’t really the take away that most people get out of this story, and it is certainly never the Sunday School lesson theme. You may know it better by the … More Sometimes Faith Shakes
I broke up with Stephen King about three years ago. We had a solid go of it for a while- I’d read his books, he’d scare me half to death, and then a few months later I’d forgive him and we’d pick up where we left off- the next book. We would then do the … More You Are What You Read
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