I'm starting a new series here where I'm sharing old posts from past blogs and giving them new life. I published this in July 2015, just a few months after my mother's cancer diagnosis. Rereading these words, almost three years later, is a surreal experience. And I wanted to share them. "The Faucet Is Leaking"… Continue reading Memory Lane: My Faucet Is Leaking
I didn't sleep great last night. I go through phases with this book where I'm great and I'm writing happy stuff and then a chapter later the shit has hit the fan again. Like life. Life is like that. A few days ago I wrote this scene where a few of the characters are together… Continue reading Writing About Death Is Hard
It wasn't what I was looking for. I'd been eyeing a used Chrysler Pacifica, but when we stopped by the dealership the Pacifica wasn't available. The salesman, an elderly gentleman with a slight lean on his right leg and a jaunty sort of walk, grunted that there was something similar on their back lot and… Continue reading A Goodbye To A Bad Car
In Alabama this week something unexpected happened. For the first time in 25 years a Democrat won a Senate seat. The odds were stacked against Senator Jones, but despite this, he won with a 1.5% lead over his opponent, accused sexual predator, Christian extremist, and twice removed from office, Judge Roy Moore. If you've read my… Continue reading Alabama Would Make Mama Proud
It changes your life in a moment and it changes your life permanently. Whether you've been diagnosed or someone you love has been diagnosed, everything in your life after that moment is built around or amongst your diagnosis and treatment. Cancer walks closely with my family. My grandfather had colon cancer that eventually took over… Continue reading My Mustache – No-Shave November & Movember
I never speed. I'm religiously faithful to speeding limits. I keep my hands at ten and two and scan the horizon for traffic signs and police. I'm cautious. When I test drove a sports car the salesman told me to open her up and see what she could do. I opted not to and instead… Continue reading The Space She Held
Reflecting on the things I've learned about my mother in the first year since her death.
The 30th and 31st years were hard. A dear family member lost to suicide. My mother lost to cancer. A baby lost to miscarriage. And a father lost to old age. Three funerals, one casket, two large urns, one small. One family caught in the middle, surrounded by heartbreak, tear stained cheeks because we can't… Continue reading My 32nd Year
Layers of makeup can't hide the pain of loss.
When grief takes on the form of a gnawing ache, rather than a sharp, stabbing pain.