What Remains: Sarith
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What remains…
A heart that is somehow is still hopeful, imperfectly mended, and ready for being loved properly,
A sense of resilience that life isn’t what happens to you, but what you have conquered…
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What Remains: Cynthia
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The tree doesn’t know why I pour coffee at its base. Its branches lean over my mother’s grave. Coffee was her Sunday morning drink. After her Saturday evening wine.
“Don’t break my heart, boy.”
Read MoreWhat Remains: Introduction
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Every September, I get a little reflective. Some people want cake for their birthday month. I want words.
A few times over the years, I’ve invited friends and family to write around a theme, Forever Young, Forty Years to Life, Life Changes. The tradition has been on pause for a bit, but this year felt right to bring it back.
The theme is simple: What Remains.
Read MoreThursday Afternoon Sensory Input
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Somewhere between now and not yet.
There’s something about today. The air is warm, but not urgent. The light hits everything just a little softer. I feel it in my chest, not sadness, exactly, but a kind of stretch…
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