A friend shared the following quote with me the other day: “Isolation is our retreat from the paralyzing pain of indecision. This retreat into denial…is the first stage of mourning and grief…we can remain alone as a way of not allowing ourselves to get in touch with the pain of our grief.” I have always preferred solitude to being with large groups of people. As a child, I loved sitting in our living room next
I always think that I know what I’m supposed to learn from any given experience. That’s right. I always know what’s coming, and why, and it’s just a matter of time before I get my life lesson gracefully handed to me on a silver platter. Riiiight. I was certain about the lesson that was waiting for me this past weekend, when I performed in “The Vagina Monologues” for the fourth time in five years. If
It snowed again last night. Seven inches of thick snow fell over the streets and the houses as I slept, and weighed heavily in my shovel in the dark this morning. Yesterday, I stealthily made my way home before the snow began, taking the afternoon off from work, but I knew that it would be more difficult for me to avoid going out in the snow today. I was hoping for an announcement of a
Last year’s Thanksgiving was epic. We were celebrating the first Thanksgiving without my grandmother, who died six months earlier. There were six adults, seven kids, and three dogs crammed into a three bedroom cabin. A vicious stomach bug made its way through most of the kids and some the adults over the course of the weekend. I fought with my mother and left in tears. A brief visit with my in-laws hit a snag when