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Words From One Squishy Broken Heart

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2/12/2025 When I was 14, my mom made me volunteer all summer at the hospital. Most kids volunteered 1 day/week. We couldn't afford summer camp or family vacations and she worked all week. I was too young for a job. She signed me up to volunteer at the hospital 5 days/week all day. All summer long.  I delivered flowers and cards to patients. I sat with patients in the cancer center and kept them company while they were getting chemo. I helped people sit up to eat, and I took family members from the lobby to patient rooms and back again.  It was the summer between middle school and high school for me. I was overweight, lacked self-confidence, didn't play sports, read a lot of books, and spent a lot of time in my room by myself drawing, reading, listening to music, and dreaming.  I came home crying every day about the patients I saw. Every single day broke my heart. I will always remember what my mom said to me one day after being a little annoyed with me for crying again. S...
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Love Lessons

 2/14/2025 Today the world seems to be on fire with love. Commercialized, dipped in chocolate, flowery, and fragrant love. Loud and noisy love. On fire love. Shiny. Polished. Expensive. Calculated.   I'm thankful for the love that is none of those things. Because I stopped settling for that top and most outer layer of it, the love from a distance kind of love.  Instead, I look to the love of the friends I'm so fortunate to have. The ones who show up for me when things are messy, emotional, tired, sweaty, stinky, sticky, unprepared, scared, and brave.  The friends who can get sassy and dressy and go out to a nice ticketed event but know the real me is happy in jeans and a t-shirt, with fake pearls and mismatched ribbon shoelaces. The ones who love me and show up for me despite what an inconvenience it is for them to do so. For friends who have shown me what it means to show up. To be present. The ones who make me feel like my broken heart is perfect in a world he...
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What does it take to write?

As you can tell, it's been so long since I've posted. For some reason, it always takes something pretty big or eye-opening to get me still enough to write. The stars all lined up tonight and I decided to login and post again. Have any of you started email accounts for your children? I have about 3 journals upstairs, tattered and torn, exhausted from moving around from box to box. In them, I have letters to the kids. I was really good about writing to the twins when I was pregnant with them. I wrote about the things that scared me and the things I hoped for them. I wrote about how I felt, what I ate, and even ordinary things that being pregnant with them changed. I told them about how it felt to tie my shoes sideways and how I required pretzel nests of pillows in order to sleep. I even kept up with writing to each of them for awhile after they were born. But, as luck and life would have it, sleep became harder and harder to come by and my priorities shifted. The other night, I...
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