They are just things. I keep telling myself that.
But why, then, am I hiding in my library while strangers (and a few friends) come and cart my life away? Why am I fighting back tears while writing this?
Because are stories are containers for our memories. They organize our life into...
by Monette Chilson
This week, I experienced one of those “almost disasters” that reveals the fragility of life. One of those moments that made me realize how little control I have over the part of my life that matters the most to me—the people I love.
My 17-year old son was in a...
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