My Seashell Finder
Last week, a friend sent a picture from the newspaper showing my six-year-old daughter’s kindergarten class of 2030. Out of eleven students, three wanted to be veterinarians, three police officers, two teachers, one a firefighter, and one a scientist. Only one wanted
It’s a Wonderful World
After supper, the five of us sat on the couch and watched YouTube videos of famous songs like “It’s a Wonderful World,” “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” and “Annie’s Song” by John Denver, which was the song my husband and I
Monitoring My Heart
You will always believe you’re free from fear until something crops up to try to change your mind. This week, I was about to dish up supper when I realized the barbecue chicken legs were still bloody inside. It was already
The Beauty of Flu Season
A few years ago, in Wisconsin, a woman with five daughters said she never experienced such closeness to her children as when she took care of them when they were ill. I remember looking into the mother’s face and seeing nostalgia
The Snail Shell of the Soul
I heard a thunk and returned to the kitchen. My two eldest daughters stood at the patio door and stared down at a female cardinal outside on its back. Its large, orange beak opened and closed as snow flurries clung
What I Want to Be This Year
The other night, after a long day with the girls, I took a walk around our land. Halfway through, on a hillside near where we want to build our home, I stretched across the grass in my down coat and
Who’s Immortal Now?
My husband and I silently sat in our wooden booth, waiting for our breakfast to arrive. It was only 10 o’clock, but we’d been awake for five hours and were still trying to process what the neurosurgeon had said. Though my husband’s
Humans of Tennessee
Three years ago, almost to the day, I purchased two tickets to see the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, but my husband ended up needing brain surgery instead. I remember being on the phone for hours, trying to get our tickets reimbursed, like
“I Hated Orange Beach”
Yesterday, my eldest daughter said she hated Orange Beach. I only remembered laughing while zooming down the slide, sitting in the hot-tub to warm up after my daughters and I swam in one of the resort’s chilly pools, or peering into
Dancing in the Mine Fields
I sat on the porch step with the phone to my ear and stared out at the yard. I didn’t say anything for a moment, because I wasn’t sure how to respond. For weeks, we’d hoped that stereotactic radiosurgery (SRS) could