[Not quite the same ring as Stevie Nicks’s “On the Edge of 17”...?] I'm in a brief liminal state between 46 and 47 years old right this minute; my birthday is tomorrow. When I was born in June of 1973, my big brother David was already 12. Numbers. Ages. They're hard facts, and should seem... Continue Reading →
“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” — Mary Oliver There's a whole lot of sitting with ourselves these days, whether we like it or not. Being present. It comes as no surprise to me that this word which... Continue Reading →
Today is my big brother David's birthday. He would have turned 59, and would probably have been freaking out about being on the verge of 60, which I'm certain he would have considered O-L-D. Ironically, aging seems to be one of the only things he was afraid of. It's also Friday the 13th, and we're... Continue Reading →
When I was growing up, we sang a lot. At home, in church, at school, wherever. One of our family’s favorites to sing together was a tune my mom says she learned in summer camp when she was 12, in Texas, where we all grew up. I'll remember it forever, she wrote me. Maybe because... Continue Reading →
I wasn’t looking for another dog. We already had one, and he was damn near perfect. But when I saw Trixie’s black, white, and tan face, I was done for. A tiny color photo in an email was all it took. That was 12 years ago. Trixie came all the way from Arkansas in a... Continue Reading →
After thinking about a short piece for a long time, which I envisioned being called “10 Things 10 Years After Your Brother Dies,” over the summer I finally wrote it and Modern Loss — a platform I appreciate so much — published it. I loved working with Gabi Birkner, a compassionate, smart, and intuitive editor... Continue Reading →
It’s Christmas Eve, a night during which I still think I should be prepping to go to my grandparents’ house, then church. It’s been more than two decades since both of my dad’s parents, whom I considered the absolute King and Queen of Christmas, have been gone, and almost as long since I attended Midnight... Continue Reading →
After my big brother David fell from a mountain peak in Colorado eleven years ago, I became consumed with the loss, with his life, and especially with extreme sports and outdoor adventure stuff because it was what consumed him — and what killed him. It haunted me. It haunts me still.
I've always had an aversion to the word precious. It sounds fragile and cloying in my mouth, like the way it's used to talk about cute babies: “Isn't she presh-uss?” There is something nose-raisingly snobbish about the word when it describes jewelry: “Made with only precious stones...” But the adjective is defined by Merriam-Webster as... Continue Reading →
