We acknowledge that none of us can live a good story without relationships. We can’t even try. We are born into a story that already going on around us, and we are inevitably connected to the other players in it. Our parents. Our brothers and sisters. Our friends. Our spouse. Even random, bystanders seem to wander into the story we call “ours.” We can’t talk about telling and living good stories without talking about relationships.
Hot, soapy water splashed over the soft red and cream pattern of my grandma’s floral china set. We had just finished another delicious, over-indulgent holiday dinner, a regular occurrence in my Italian family. Despite hours, even days, of preparation and cooking, our actual consumption lasted under an hour, and now the breakdown and cleaning had... read more
November 27, 2013
The pastor is praying and the woman in the pew in front of me has an oxygen tank. She’s breathing in and out and it’s soothing, but also jarring, because you don’t realize how much you need oxygen until you stop being able to breathe. And I reckon the same can be said about love. Love... read more
I have a friend who flips houses for a living. He invited me along once to see a few of his projects. We walked through a quaint one-story home, with rich hardwood floors, fresh cabinets, butcher block counter tops and a bold blue glass tiling job in the bathroom. If I was buying my first... read more
I knew this would be the trip. It would have to be. I was twenty-eight years old and my childish insecurities about what my Dad might say (or not say) had been clouding my desire to make things right for too long. I am an adult, I thought. This should be easy now. But it... read more
It’s midnight in the ER. I lie hooked up to heart monitors with one nurse drawing blood while another tries to place an IV. After months of regular IVs I should be used to the procedure, but I’m dehydrated. Five unsuccessful sticks later they go for the inside of my wrist on that pulsing blue... read more