There was a time when I believed life moved in straight lines. If I made careful plans, if I worked hard enough, if I loved well enough, things would unfold as expected. I thought certainty was something you earned. But life, it turns out, has never been interested in our neat expectations. It bends. It…
Tag: love
Stay, I Pray You
Last night I saw a musical that quietly undid me. It exceeded every expectation I carried in with me. Anastasia was exquisite — moving, tender, and deeply human. One song in particular stayed with me long after the curtain fell. “How can I desert you?”At eleven years old, I didn’t have the words for this…
Quiet Reflection
When I was younger, the days between Christmas and New Year felt almost sacred. A quiet pause in the calendar where I would reflect on what had been and carefully map out what was to come. Lists were written, intentions set, dreams neatly arranged as though life itself might follow my handwriting. I still return…
The Silent Clock
Where do the years go? They slip past so quickly, and yet, when I close my eyes, I feel them near — close enough to touch, close enough to step back into. I still hear the tick-tock of my grandparents’ clock, steady and sure, marking time that I never thought would run out. I still…
Next To You
Yesterday was one of those days that start normally but end with your heart in your throat. My elderly dad had a fall. It ended well, thank God, but at the time it was frightening. The ambulance came, kind paramedics checked him over, and in the evening my brother and my husband Peter took him…
The Day I Trembled
Nineteen years ago today, I stood at the gates of eternity. Not metaphorically. Not in some dreamy, poetic sense. I stood there — suspended between breath and no breath, between the beating heart and silence. Between earth… and heaven. The cord of life has always been fragile — delicate as silk, invisible as breath. Mine…
We Call on Him
For a number of years, Peter and I shared a quiet ritual with our dear friends, Stephen and his late wife Wendy. We each brought a song — something that spoke to us in that season of life — and took turns playing them, sitting together in conversation, letting the lyrics lead us to places…
Storyteller
My phone just gave me another warning: Storage almost full. Again. I take a lot of photos. Not always for an audience, not to curate a perfect life, but to gather crumbs — breadcrumbs in the forest of my life. Each image a small, shining proof that I saw, felt, touched, loved. That moment mattered….
Miss You Most
When the lilacs begin to bloom and the forest floor turns into a sea of white lily of the valley, that’s when I miss you most of all. The air grows heavy with a perfume that drifts through my memories like mist through the birch trees, soft and persistent, calling me back. When your nights…
Life is Precious
Every single day we wake up is a gift —wrapped not in paper, but in possibility. We often move through our days as if they are endless,as if time owes us more,as if we can press pause on what truly matters. But deep down, we know the truth:each sunrise is a miracle,each moment a fleeting…
Apples of Gold 