cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I held death in my arms once. In February 2008 the tiny body of my nephew, born 20 weeks early, was brought to me wrapped in a blanket in sister-in-law Deanna’s hospital room. In my womb a 20-week-old baby kicked. It felt like the hardest thing I would ever have to do, continue growing life…
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Last month my 88-year-old mother moved into an assisted living facility located 4.5 miles from my house. This is four miles further than we’ve lived from each other for the past nine years. While it may sound like a negligible change, it feels much more significant, for this half-mile has been traversed far more often…
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Flying away on a wing and a prayer, who could it be? Believe it or not it’s just me! The Greatest American Hero, an early 1980’s sitcom, endeared us to a very unlikely superhero—an ordinary guy in possession of a special suit. Wearing the suit activated superpowers, including flight. Unfortunately, he lost the instruction book…
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