cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
“Auny” was part godmother and part adopted grandmother to me. She had a pet name all of her own, as she held a treasured and unique place in our family. She worked as a hostess in my grandparents’ midwestern Chinese restaurant. This was in a time before friendship between races was considered acceptable. For decades, she rubbed…
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I knocked on the door of my parent’s house, tears streaming down my face one dark February night.
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Our first year of marriage wasn’t what I’m assuming many newlyweds experience.
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“In ten years, she sees herself working as a physical therapist and married, with two children.”
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Always tuck me in at night To show me that you care
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There is never a moment where You don’t notice me
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For me the first thing that comes to mind when I hear “always” is a marriage vow: God’s blessing on the sanctity of that union, and the concept of forever united as one.
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Always be yourself unless you can be batman, a mermaid, a unicorn.
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God always comes through for me. Not always when I think I need Him. And certainly not always in the ways I ask or demand.
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There’s something about a wedding—something so hopeful as the wide-eyed bride and groom stand face to face, hand in hand, and declare, “Until death do us part.”
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