cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I did it. My head spun in a disoriented fog. My limbs trembled with weakness. I felt sick to my stomach and my heart felt as though a boulder was sitting upon it. Everything within me screamed at the top of my I-can-barely-breathe lungs and I wondered if maybe curling up and actually dying would…
Read More
I was in the kitchen while my two daughters—ages 2 and 4—sat in front of me eating breakfast. Always curious about what happens in their little minds, I stayed quiet to give space for them to share their thoughts, knowing something conversation-worthy would arise. My oldest soon spoke up. “Mom, do you love your face?”
Read More
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…
Read More
As I awoke from surgery, I was keenly aware that I did not have the dreamy, light, euphoric feeling I had coming out of anesthesia ten years earlier. This was different. It felt more like a backhoe had gutted a hole in my core—gut and bowels included. Any movement at all would shift what felt…
Read More