First-person narratives based on real human experiences. The moments that change us. The relationships that define us. The lessons we carry forward.
At 9:12 on a Saturday morning in June, eleven months after we buried my father, I was standing in a stranger’s gravel driveway in Verlaine... Read more
At 7:12 p.m. on the evening of my forty-seventh birthday, I was standing at my kitchen counter in Millard Creek, Missouri, blowing out a single... Read more
The night before Father’s Day, my phone lit up on the kitchen counter at 11:25 while my two kids slept upstairs with their handmade cards... Read more
The house was unnaturally quiet at 2:47 in the morning. I had fallen asleep on the couch again, which had been happening more often lately... Read more
Woodsmoke and wet pine hung so thick over my porch that evening I almost didn’t hear the phone ringing inside. Behind me, Sawtooth Ridge was... Read more
Whitney Vandermeer said it with a smile, which is how women like her say everything. We were at the Briarwood Country Club, at a table... Read more
The rain that Thursday was the gray kind that does not fall so much as hang, and Corliss was tapping the kitchen table with one... Read more
It was Callista’s baby shower, forty five minutes before the doors opened, when I sat alone in my truck in a gravel lot outside a... Read more
At 8:15 that Monday morning, four days after my last chemo infusion, I stood on the sidewalk outside Depot Blooms with my key in a... Read more
For three stunned heartbeats I stood perfectly still in the middle of Sioux Falls Regional Airport, surrounded by rolling suitcases, burnt gate-counter coffee, and strangers... Read more