Columns

Recently, I opened an email from a company inviting me to share my insights regarding bleeding disorders and how my family handles the struggles of chronic illness. Before my sons were born, I think I would’ve hit the delete button without giving a similar invitation a second thought. But…

A dreary day is unusual in the desert of New Mexico, where we live. When it happens, the sky opens, releasing a much-needed downpour of liquid gold. The dry ground is soaking up this scarce commodity. It’s a bad hair day for many who aren’t used to double-digit humidity, and…

Greetings! I’m writing from Orlando, Florida, my temporary oasis from the wrath of Hurricane Ian. Last week, my mom and I evacuated to this inland city from Punta Gorda, on the coast in the southwest part of the state. Staying was not an option as my mom is oxygen-dependent…

My son Caeleb participated in a marching band competition this past Saturday. He plays the keyboard in the pit so that he doesn’t have to move around on the field, which would cause intense pain. Many years of internal bleeding left no cartilage in my son’s damaged right…

I like to watch jugglers. From balls and plates, to bowling pins and swords, performers toss items into the air one after another, never letting them hit the floor. Their hand-eye coordination is tremendous, as well as their ability to move, twirl, and even ride a unicycle while keeping the…

Parenthood has transformed my husband, Jared, and me in many ways. We’ve had to be responsible for a lot of things. We must look after our daughter, Cittie, as well as our home, our health, and our relationships with each other and other people. When I was younger, I used…

Well, hello, Ian. Please go away. As I write this, the track of Hurricane Ian has shifted south from Tampa, Florida, and toward my home in Punta Gorda. Not my first time at this rodeo. In 2004, Hurricane Charley, which was Category 4, devastated my hometown. But this…

I discovered that I have a talent unlike any other. I’m a world champion at throwing pity parties. When times get tough and I feel lost, all I must do is put a cone-shaped hat on my head and recognize my misfortune. My glum permeates the air as I raise…

I have a version of Pandora’s box. Fortunately, the box doesn’t see the light of day. I keep it on the top shelf of my closet, hidden behind extra pillows that are stored away for months on end. The box contains years of pain, grief, sorrow, and buckets of tears.

My husband, Jared, and I are just starting to figure out family life. As novices to the world of parenting and homemaking, we’re navigating our child’s formative years and learning to maintain a household through trial and error. Living by ourselves has been an especially helpful experience. Choosing not…