Mom, I’ve always thought that the “f” in “twelfth” was unnecessary. We don’t use an “f” in any of the other spellings, like tenth, eleventh, thirteenth, or thirtieth. I remember when I was little, the way you would lament the complexities of the English language. “Shouldn’t we say you put your bewt on your fewt …
Dear Mama, Happy birthday. You would have been 63 today. You would have hated being in your 60s, I’m sure. Still, I think you would have aged well given the chance. I hadn’t realized how little I have written here because I have written here, I just haven’t published. This blog has 85 published posts, …
My last post was deliberately a deviation from all the reflection here. The past year has been seemingly one godawful thing after another. My sisters and I hoped that somehow the turn of the new year would bring with it less tragedy and trauma. We each held our breath, hoping, believing that maybe the universe …
Most of what I write has some deep life lesson embedded in it, which is rarely intentional. But in twenty-nine short years I have learned more about life, love, and loss than many people learn in a lifetime. Pondering and processing loss tends to lead one to think about life and love. The three are …
Yesterday marked two months since my mom’s death. The vastness that stretches between that day and this one is insurmountable and impossible to articulate. It is a space too large to be filled with my sadness, with the shattered bits of my broken heart and the broken hearts of my sisters. Going for two days …
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