On the subject of her eventual and inevitable death, my mom has historically been avoidant or contentious. Other than “I want to be cremated and I don’t want a funeral,” it was hard to find out what...

Last Sunday, thanks to a conversation in the StoryJoules Mastery course, I hunted for something I had written about sea anchors. Turns out it was one of these Sunday emails, from July 2020. Since it...

Eleven days minus one of gray, rain, sleet, ice, snow. Matching my mother's mind. And mine, there. Pulling off my sweater at her place, thermostat set to 75, where all I am is a moon in orbit around...

Last November, in Day Room 38, I unplugged the Amazon Alexa device to plug in my laptop. During this visit, I learned Alexa hadn’t worked since. Tonight, I’m listening to the new Alexa device. My...

Everything I want to write about isn't my story to tell. [example erased, because even that, even just one, was too personal.] My mom fell. She has bruises and stitches but no broken bones, thank...

When Trent and I were looking for a place to live together, we agreed that Newaygo, Michigan, was one of the few places that would work for both of us. It was under two hours from his teenage...