I used to wake up singing. Now I sit at a barely-worn cherry piano, fingers finding notes but no words coming. Sometimes the deepest roots need the longest winters—and tomorrow, finally, will be warmer.
Loss & Grief
Grief Without a Manual: Finding God in the Juxtaposition of Life and Death
When my grandmother passed, I discovered that grief doesn't follow neat stages. Sometimes it's an existential cloud that makes you question everything—including how to keep writing when words feel inadequate.
Converting VHS Memories While Grammy Dies: How Time Moves in Circles, Not Lines
My Grammy lies dying while I digitize her life—ninety-four years compressed into tapes that spin clockwise, just like the restaurant where Charming took me to help me see past the swirling chaos. Sometimes the monuments in the distance are the only things that stay in focus.
Making Bracelets for Grams: When Dementia Steals Your Person
At Thanksgiving, I brought beads to make bracelets with Grams like we used to during my divorce. Charming met Nonna, but he'll never meet the fierce woman who saved me with colorful conversations.
When Love Isn’t About Timing: Four Days Without Prince Charming
I broke up with Charming over our timing conflict—I'm ready for marriage, he's not. But driving away in a storm, God ministered to me through worship music. Is he worth the wait?
Navigating Mother’s Day When Motherhood Feels Far Away
Mother's Day can be complicated when you're not a mother but desperately want to be. Here's how I learned to honor the day while honoring my own journey.
The Day My Therapist Died and I Lost My Captain: Another Sunset
Dr. Bogin saved my life during my darkest season, and I never got to say goodbye. Here's how a sunset became my way of honoring the man who taught me to think for myself.
The Birthday I Spent Crying About the Children I Don’t Have
At thirty-four, I'm officially off my timeline for motherhood. Here's what I learned about grief, biological clocks, and the difference between being broken and being a woman.
My Gift List Had Two Equal Columns—His World and Mine Still Haven’t Merged
Tangled in silver ribbon, I saw it: two columns of gifts, one for my people, one for Charming's. Thirty-five years of Bible study bonds at his parents' party made me sob for what I lost in Nashville. I wrap presents for new people, gambling they'll still be here next Christmas.
Half My Christmas Lights Keep Dying—Just Like My First Marriage Did
Charming hung and rehung icicle lights three times this weekend. I kept thinking of my ex-husband and how we got better at fixing Christmas lights than our marriage. Some relationships have too many broken strands. But this little house still glows like a beacon—reminding me I'm never alone.
Writer's Growth 