Hungry for Hope

If 2020 is mostly a blur, then these first few weeks of January are etched into my memory in exquisite detail. It’s like everything went from hazy to high-definition overnight. On January 5th, my son Caleb and I helped as poll watchers for the Senate run-off elections here in Georgia. We trained through the Democratic

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It’s better than nothing…

On Christmas Eve, my oldest daughter held up the phone so my parents could watch my family open our Christmas presents from them. We’d all decided it wasn’t safe for us to see them over the holidays, so FaceTime was the best way for us to celebrate “together.” It wasn’t ideal, but I just kept

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After the Bombs….

I used to assume that when wars ended, people just resumed their lives. During this pandemic, I’ve searched for a lesson from the past to help guide me through our daily lives.  It’s not exactly a war, but it is a defining national crisis. I’ve needed some kind of roadmap.  I asked my mom if

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Democracy is hard…

When our twins were five years old and on our local swim team, they were often put on the relay team. The likelihood that they would actually dive off the blocks and swim their one lap was very slim. It was so stressful to watch. The more coaches and parents encouraged them to get in

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“The letting go…”

A few weeks ago, I visited my son Caleb in Ann Arbor for the first time. He’s a freshman in college and I wanted to see what his new life looked like. The town was enchanting and I loved spending a few days with him. The whole experience was reassuring and wonderful, until I drove

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It doesn’t have to be this way…

This is how I’ve felt the past few weeks: Baffled. Floored. Dizzy. From the death of Ruth Bader Ginsburg and the quick nomination of a new Supreme Court justice; to the news about the President’s tax history and the debacle of the debate; back to the rapid spread of COVID-19 through the White House and

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Parallel Universes

“I thought this was supposed be like The Little Mermaid,” I whispered to my son. We were sitting in the audience at the play Once On This Island and it had taken a dark, sad turn. The big-hearted, generous-spirited heroine was dying right before our very eyes. It was nothing like the movie! “Not the

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The end of an era…

A week ago, my husband Bryan drove our son over twelve hours to his new apartment at the University of Michigan. The last morning he was in town, I woke up early to go hunt down a mattress pad for Caleb’s new bed. It was like I was sending him off to war or the

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Is the South trying to secede again?

I knew a woman who taught English as a second language to adults and one of the hardest parts for her was explaining to her students what all of our quirky expressions meant. Her students always struggled to keep these idioms straight. My favorite example was the combination of “something smells fishy” and “that rings

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“Practicing resurrection” during a pandemic….

When my big kids were in preschool, we lost power during a winter storm. We all gathered in the family room and built a fire. We had light from the windows; it wasn’t terrible. My four-year-old son Caleb was anxious, though, and kept asking a bunch of questions. I finally said to him, “Why don’t

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