I missed my deadline. The deadline set for this very piece you are reading—I missed it. I don’t have much of an explanation except that, lately, life has kind of been like a hail storm in August.
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cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I missed my deadline. The deadline set for this very piece you are reading—I missed it. I don’t have much of an explanation except that, lately, life has kind of been like a hail storm in August.
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“I don’t need you, MOM! I don’t need you!” I hear this screamed by a large, fit, and well-dressed man. He is a study in contradiction. He has a large pack which suggests to me that he could be homeless. He is huge, more than six feet tall. He appears mentally ill. He is screaming…
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A Voxer notification appeared from my friend Mike: Hi Rachel, I’ve been thinking about you and wondering what you would think of spending a half a day or a whole day on a silent retreat away from social media and family and friends. We would be happy to help with your kids to make this…
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I’m familiar with waking up in the dark and walking through it. The concept illustrates my life both metaphorically and literally. The other morning, I arose in the dim light of 5 a.m. before the rest of my family. As I scurried to the coffee pot for medicine to aid in sleep deprivation, I heard…
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Above my desk hangs a framed black and white photo of two sets of feet. I took it on our first vacation as a family of three. My husband’s feet are covered in white sand and my one-year-old’s chubby toes sit atop. The vacation was paid for by parents and preceded our move overseas by…
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It’s been one month since he left. I stood in the airport taking in every detail of him that I would miss for the next seven months. We walked hand-in-hand from the check-in gate to security, marveling that once again we would be saying goodbye. Although we spent the year leading up to our wedding…
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My initial response to the question Where do I belong? was flippant. I’ve never really felt like I didn’t belong. My 20-year-old self wouldn’t have given this question another thought. But in the ten years since age twenty, I’ve started to recognize that when I give something a simple response, it’s usually because a more…
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“Can you believe he will be getting married in one week?”
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We’ll always share the same birthday, right?
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A celebration was necessary, or so I thought.
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