Fireplaces, Blue Birds & Pennies
I thought it was our cat, chirping and clattering at the fireplace early this morning. Eventually my brain logged the absurdity of that conclusion and forced me to investigate….
Grief and Coffee
Sometimes grief is melting to the floor, uncontrollable silent sobs, waiting on the coffee to brew. When the cool floor catches you in it’s solid embrace and stops the spiraling.
My father is dying.
My father is dying and yesterday I stood for 15 minutes in the aisle of the Hobby Lobby frozen, staring blankly at leather tooling supplies, flooded in memories from his time at Norristown State Hospital.
Washing Machines
I think it was Brene Brown who told a story about a village where all the women washed clothes together down by the river. When they all got washing machines, there was a sudden outbreak of depression and no one could figure out why.