cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
“We do the best we can with what we know at the time,” said my friend. We have known one another for a long time and were talking about shared memories of when our daughters were young. I reflected on how my own formative experiences showed up in the ways I parented my daughters, who…
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When I began writing about losing Mom last August, I knew July was waiting on the other side. I knew that at the end of this journey I would be practicing gratitude, thankful for the gift of this year. There was an inner knowing, a need to sort out the words and feelings surrounding my…
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Cold January rain pelted the windshield of my red Ford Expedition as I drove toward Barnes and Noble. I parked and swiftly exited the car, retrieving the stroller. I deftly popped it open with one hand, a finely honed skill. Unfastening Elly from her seat behind me, I securely strapped her into the stroller, tucking…
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“I left something for you in the fridge.” My daughter’s text was no surprise and made me smile as I scrolled. For the past several years, I’ve known what I’ll find when I open our carport refrigerator where snacks await our active grandchildren. This tradition comes with a story that left both of us forever…
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I take a tight sip of my Eagle Rare before setting it back on the bar to turn and face my mother. With her hand gently grasping her own pour, we share a knowing glance. I am allowing myself to feel the full range of emotions that marriage can carry, and I am breathing in the…
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Amanda, our second born, cut the thick rye bread on a cutting board across from the sink. The remnants of the bread scattered over the counter onto the floor. I bent down to sweep up the debris, and she said, “I have always felt the weight of your perfectionism.” Annie, our firstborn, and I were…
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In the 1960s charm bracelets were a trend, and teenage Mom had one full of charms. During a Thursday morning visit in December, she brought out a small silk pouch and handed it to me. She was in the dividing-up-her-jewelry stage of dying and wanted me to have her bracelet of stories, a reminder of…
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A few years ago, my kids and I stumbled upon the insane mystery of Devil’s Hole in Death Valley National Park, Nevada. This ultra-deep pool of water fed by underground aquifers lies in one of the most arid regions on earth. It is also habitat to one of the rarest subspecies of fish on the…
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I returned to the Red Tent this year with the intention of engaging its themes through the lens of losing Mom, feeling confident in my decision. Approaching this fifth post, my mind is filled with questions and doubts, threatening to derail the intention that began this process. Is this really a good idea? Am I…
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The beginning of Mom’s cancer journey turned my world upside down. The weekend after her abnormal scan brought all of the siblings together, several from out of town. Every weekend following felt like a holiday in those early days, when hopes were high that the right smoothie, sauna, or supplement would change the game and…
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