A conversation with my daughter about time management and priorities via big rocks, little rocks, and sand.Read more
The other morning I was struggling. Facing things felt hard. The small scared child inside of me said “I can’t.” She whispered “It’s impossible.” All I wanted to do was hide.Read more
This morning Etta asked me to walk her to school. So we met at the foot of the stairs and walked together up to her bedroom ….Read more
I wrenched my back last week, and nine-year old Etta has been very concerned, seeing me wince in pain as I hobble around the house. Last night as I was stiffly and carefully tucking her into bed, she said, “Your spine is being bad! It’s hurting you!”Read more
I was browsing through recent journal entries when I was suddenly stopped short by a simple description of walking Etta to school. Wow, that’s right, we used to go to school!
In that moment grief hit me hard — for all we’ve been through and all we’ve lost and how quickly everything changed. This is the poem I wrote about it.