On Turning 29

When I think of myself as a child, a day at the park comes to mind. Five or six years old, I climbed the Jungle Jim, which clanked beneath my feet. I reached the peak, put my hands on the rail, and leaned forward as if to listen.  I closed my eyes. I put my …

A message to men

CW re: Olympic-Gymnast Father Lunging at Dr. Devil When I was 9, I watched as my dad charged toward my neighbor’s house with a bat in his hand and rage in his eyes; he just learned that my neighbor molested me, and he was intent on enforcing justice. A little girl watching her life rapidly …

Everyday Sacrifices

Today, Memorial Day, I feel inspired by the word "sacrifice." Especially now, as I recover from this ankle break, acutely aware of how I spend my days, a question circles my mind: would I be at peace with my life if all was lost tomorrow? 
The honest answer is, well, no.