Writer Maggie May Ethridge recently wrote a beautiful post about her young daughter, Lola, that swallowed my heart.  It reminded me of the almost unbearable tenderness I felt when my daughter was growing up. There were times I’d just be watching her — sleeping, tending to her toys, excited over some adventure or story — [...]

It’s not the rampant commercialism of a weird holiday with its roots in pagan rituals and Catholicism, or the glittery sap of Hallmark cards, or even the waxy chocolate candies in heart-shaped boxes that makes me dislike Valentine’s Day.  It’s not because mid-February is like December-minor for single people, or because I feel sorry for [...]

I am alone, and in so many ways I’m grateful for solitude, and for being able to embrace my nature, which needs to retreat on the waves more often than it needs the solidity of an anchor.

They hang in my closet as a reminder, a small torment, and something of a life jacket. I wore them when I last fell in love, hard and with almost reckless abandon, several years ago.
There was something about this particular pair of jeans that made me feel less humanly flawed and more invincible. [...]