I'm obviously in a particularly unique period of my life. It's so unique that nothing really seems unique to me anymore. It's like, Dana's death + Mikey's gas lighting + the divorce + the move +solid entrance to bona-find single-momdom = this feeling of, Holy. Cow. Life is just big and weird and extreme and
The line that a blogger needs to draw between the personal and the public is always somewhat tenuous. How much to tell, to what depth and level? Added to just life itself. What's "normal"? Is this getting better? Is this what typically happens? I mean, everyone says marriage is difficult; is this what everyone deals
I wrote this post after I had found out that my husband had been cheating on me. I had just started the divorce process, and was almost beside myself with the combination of grief from missing Dana, and numbness over what my husband had done to our family. But I was not ready to share
I got into a conversation with the woman sitting at the table next to us at Beef & Beans, a summer event of American awesomeness at our local grange. I had never met her before, but Mikey told me that her husband did the wiring for our addition, before Dana left. "I liked what you
"I need a hero," Madeleine L'Engle writes in Glimpses of Grace. "Sometimes I have chosen pretty shoddy ones, as I have chosen faulty mirrors in which to see myself. But a hero I must have. A hero shows me what a fallible man, despite and even with his faults, can do: I cannot do it