“Did you bring your mom?” “Yes! She's right here!” I said as I pulled a tiny urn from my pocket for all to see. ALL. All six-hundred attendees of the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop. All who giggled and clapped as I held up the Tiny Traveling Urn that brought me to the Dayton stage.
On one hand, I tend to do everything with intention, very thoughtfully planned out. On the other hand, I dive in without looking back. Why? Delusion.
In 2024, you read nearly 60,000 words delivered directly from my brain to your devices. That's a lot of words. I cannot thank you enough.
I had no intention of writing anything at all today. Find the right words? They are all lost. When my husband got the call that his mother was in active cardiac arrest, everything around us stopped. His second phone call to me was silent. I asked if he was there, thinking he’d inadvertently hit the … Continue reading There’s a Grief That Can’t Be Spoken
The thing about resolutions? They often encapsulate the unrealistic yet we then beat ourselves up for not achieving them. Make them achievable. Sing when you win.
Would you ever walk out of a relationship simply to avoid saying, "Hey, nice job!"? Before you do, ask yourself this: What am I really feeling?
