cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I lean against the wall of the standing-room-only church, immediately regretting my choice of heels. A funeral is always hard, and one honoring a mom in her 40s with young kids especially so. Fans twirl slowly from the ceiling of this small town church. I hold the program and fan myself as vigorously and quietly…
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Our dear sailing friend Len died several weeks ago. He was sixty years young. At his memorial service, my husband said Len was the most beautifully complex contradiction of a human he had ever known. More insecure, more bold, more obstinate, more open, more brilliant, more foolish, more connected to death, and more alive to the resurrection…
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