cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
Decades ago, I was at the home of an older woman. She said, “My husband will be 70 this year, and we’ve started thinking about how to finish well.” This stuck with me, even though, at the time, I was comfortably middle-aged. This couple was well known in Christian circles. They had authored books and…
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I take a good hard look in the mirror and suck in a huge gulp of air. I am getting ready to step into the shower and have just stepped off the scale. The chaos of bed hair and a NyQuil-induced sleep blink back at me underneath the glow of the unforgiving bathroom lights. My…
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I always thought I was going to die young. My death was probably going to be the result of something dramatic and tragic, like a major car accident or a freak plane crash. I simply could not (or would not) imagine myself getting old. I turn 40 this month. Four decades of living. How did…
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Getting older is not for the faint of heart. I am keenly aware of this today as I feel the pain from a chain of events that started with an old knee injury. I’d been concerned after experiencing pain and decreased range of motion twice in the past six months, but each time I chalked…
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“We women in our late 40s need a scapegoat,” my doctor, who is the same age, said, “and hormones are usually a viable option.” I wasn’t prepared to hear my doctor use the term “scapegoat.” That’s a term usually reserved for my psychology and religious circles, where abuse is often the topic. But she knows…
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Am I where I’m supposed to be? Do I have the inner strength, gentleness, and wisdom to venture out once again into the unknown?
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More grey splashes against dark curls. Cheeks sag and skin spots darken. Aging creeps in with Crow’s feet around my eyes.
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A few months into our relationship, my high school boyfriend started calling me, “Mallorina, my Queena.” As a 16-year-old, I’m not sure there was a nickname more flattering than this one. Actually, 38-year-old Mallory really wouldn’t mind answering to it, either. It was young love, but I knew my boyfriend adored me and went out…
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I turned 60 a few days ago. How about that? Sixty. 21,900 days. I am likely about 2/3 the way through my imagined years. I don’t often think about measuring time, but significant birthdays have a way of making more obvious the ways we keep our time. As friends and family called to celebrate with…
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I had never been more excited to schedule a pap smear. When my OB-GYN’s clinic called to tell me I could see my doctor before she retired, I yelled excitedly into the phone, “I’ll be there!” This is the woman who cared for me and delivered three live babies and two miscarriages with me. During…
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