On the floor of my kitchen, back against my fridge. This is the place where my grief often meets me. It’s the place I found myself when my house was empty for the first time after my husband’s death. It’s the place where I found myself just about every morning for the weeks that followed. … More The Place Where Grief Meets Me
“I heard this Dolly song the other day…” I have this reoccurring dream where I see my dad. It’s a different setting each time. Once it was in my childhood kitchen, once it was at the grocery store, once it was in this wooded area which might have been my mind’s very lose interpretation of … More A Life of Many Colors
I didn’t want to celebrate this day. I honestly didn’t even want to participate in it. I wanted to distract myself enough to believe that somehow life now simply skips from October 11 to October 13, and then we could all just go another year without acknowledging that we are now living in year two … More We Always Celebrate
“Can you play, Raise a Hallelujah?” I sat up a from the hard pullout couch that I was attempting to make a bed out of, and I looked over at him. I didn’t know if I heard him correctly. I didn’t know if I heard him at all. He laid perfectly still in his bed … More Anger 6: Finishing the Race
My tulips sprouted this week. This shouldn’t be that significant… I mean, it’s March, most tulips sprout in March. But my heart sank a little when I pulled into my driveway, and I saw the little green stocks peeking out of the ground. Andrew’s dad and sister planted these tulip bulbs for us last fall. … More Anger 4: Tulips and Resolution
Just a moment. We are all just one moment—good or bad—away from our whole life shifting course—good or bad. I think about this a lot when people look at me with those sad eyes. I think about how close I was to being shattered at a time when I didn’t even know it. Just a … More Anger 3: The Moments in Our Story
Today, I placed a single white rose on Kurt Vonnegut’s grave. Well… kind of. Today I went on a wild goose chase for Kurt Vonnegut’s grave, ultimately learned that his final resting place is unknown to anyone, and instead left a rose on his father’s grave, but I mean, it was the same name, so … More Contradictions
It’s crowded, overwhelming. People are everywhere. Some look at me, some don’t. I look at both no one and everyone at the same time. This isn’t my thing. Crowds, heels, dresses, sobriety. Where’s the bar? How far can it be? How long does it take to get a drink? Just one drink? Or I guess … More Home
“What happened to seven-year-old me when I turned eight?” Yeah, try fielding that one from your child. I’m telling you, my parents were saints for the weird conversations they had to deal with. “What do you mean?” my mom asked, looking toward my dad. He just shrugged. “Where did she go?” I asked. “She’s right … More 2021 Me
My love language is car rides. Got an errand to run? Take me with you. Forgot one thing at the grocery store and need someone to be a warm body in the front seat so that you don’t have to actually park the car? I’m right there. Have some random Facebook Marketplace item to pick … More Car Rides
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