reframing femininity
It was a Saturday like any other in San Antonio, Texas — a beautiful, blustery October morning in 2007, the perfect day for our family outing at the zoo — until I discovered a secret so painful, I nearly collapsed. D-Day, I called it. Discovery Day. The day I discovered my husband was leading a…
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She peers over the edge of her handlebars, wondering at the hill ahead. Can she go down it with eyes closed? Can she hold her breath long enough to make it to the bottom? Wind in her hair as she unstraps the helmet, dangling it below the bars, she grips the rubber under her little…
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I exit an evening exercise class to daylight. Contrasted with the darkness of prior weeks, the streaks of pink in the sky invite me to hope. I feel a brightening in my spirit. The light always returns! This season, my soul mirrors the winter weather pattern of the valley where I live. One day all…
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Folsom Prison Blues “Well if they freed me from this prison If that railroad train was mine I bet I’d move it on a little farther down the line…” Johnny Cash Our daughter is back. After eighteen years of being away, of staying away, of hiding the truth of her messy life. We are…
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Until recently, I had no understanding of what forgiveness is and is not.
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Today, I ran the vacuum cleaner close to where my nephew Andrew was reading, in my own house, at mid-day. I had every right to clean, but what tumbled reflexively from my core was, “Oh, I am so sorry.”
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We live in a bipolar state on the 47th Latitude. It is a land of extremes.
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Sexiness is not something I am comfortable talking about. There, I said it.
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The first time Elly straddled a bike she hoisted herself onto the seat with Mark holding onto the bike and said, “I can do this Dad.”
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“London Bridges falling down, falling down, falling down. London Bridges falling down, My Fair Lady.”
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