Relationships
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Credentials of a Father
I never knew my father. As a kid, I imagined him to be a brave soldier fighting enemies across the ocean (this was the late 1960s and the Vietnam War was in full force) or a firefighter who spent his days saving kittens and grandmothers from horrendous fires. But when I was older, my mother told me that my father had been a member of a notorious motorcycle gang in Philadelphia and that . . . well . . . she wasn’t sure exactly who he was. That’s the free-love mentality of the 1960s for you, and paternity validation remains a mystery to this day. Later, my formative years were…
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Reclaiming Thanksgiving
This is a guest blog post I wrote for She’s Intentional (Dainty Jewells). You can find the original post HERE. My husband, Andy, and I sat at the dinner table with my in-laws the other night and the subject of Thanksgiving came up. Being the lover-of-all-things-organized gal that I am, I grabbed my cell phone and instantly accessed my Thanksgiving planning list on my project management app (Man, I love technology!). Our family customarily eats the same dishes and desserts every year. While we are always game to try new things, venturing away from our food routines isn’t one of them. Let’s just say that I made the mistake one year of…
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What’s With All the Hot Sauce?
I’m about to either inspire a coming-together-of-wives or elicit an angry riot of husbands, but… How many bottles of hot sauce does one man need in the house? My husband, Andy, LOVES heat in his food–and I’m not talking about temperature. I mean, he wants the spicy heat to make him break out in a sweat. My darling will ask the waitress at a fully-authentic Mexican restaurant if the jalapeños they use in their burritos are fresh or the “weak pickled ones out of a can”. Even when he’s assured that the dish is guaranteed to leave him gasping for air, Andy will still ask, “Yeah, but, honestly, is it…
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La Forteresse
René and Armand lived in France in the 1930s and were best friends. They’d been close friends since their early days of primary school. Growing up just houses away from each other, the two played together every day after school, rushing through their chores in order to have more time for fun. They spent hours slinging stones at squirrels and fishing in the creek on the outskirts of their village. When they were in middle school, Armand and René built a tree fort in the wooded area behind Armand’s house. Every afternoon was spent dragging wood planks from behind the shed at the back of the property to the massive…
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Dearest Daughter, You Are Enough
Her body trembled as she pressed against me. I could feel the weakness and uncertainty she felt seep from her skin into my body as I absorbed the waves of emotion. She was hurting because of the cruel words of another. The icy dread and anger crept quietly into my soul although I spoke softly and comforted her with my words. This gentle, fragile girl I cradled was my daughter. A part of my very soul. The soft essence of her was an extension of myself. The cry of her heart matched the tones of my own in perfect harmony. She wept. Tears slowly drifting down her pale cheeks while…