• Dramatic Nonsense,  Henryisms

    In Honor Of My 700th Post…

    To celebrate 700 posts (YES! This one is numero 700!), I decided to install a scratch & sniff plugin* to my site so you could experience what I’ve experienced today. So on a scale of 1 to 100, what does this smell like to you? I’ll give you a hint: The number is in the title. THAT is how bad it smells. But my boy is home and exhausted and clean and full of bruises and chigger bites and scrapes and amazing memories! * If you really did sniff your screen, bless your heart.

  • Fun Memories,  Henryisms,  Life as an Anthoine,  Writer

    Mainside.

    This year, Henry’s week at camp is a big one. It’s his first year on the Mainside. At Camp Winnataska, that translates to “the big kid side of the camp.” The last two years, he’s been on the Chico side with all the 6-8 year old campers, so last year he was one of the big guys on the Chico campus. For the last few months, we’ve been talking about and getting excited for camp. He’s had his calendar filled out for the whole summer, counting down the number of weeks until he left. To say he loves it is an understatement! On the way over to Alabama on Sunday,…

  • Fun Memories,  Writer

    Just Write: The Wave

    This past weekend, I realized there’s a little thing I truly miss about living in a small town. I miss The Wave. You know the one. You’re driving down the road, get close to a car coming the other way, and see the driver’s hand pop up from the wheel giving a little wave. It’s a quick lift of the hand, a small gesture, but one that doesn’t exist in the big city. People don’t do The Wave here in Atlanta. In fact, just this morning, it hit me that people don’t even do the Thank You Wave here. You know, the one that’s flashed when you let somebody out in…

  • Henryisms,  Life as an Anthoine,  Writer

    With Privilege Comes Responsibility

    All my life I heard that phrase: With privilege comes responsibility.  I learned early to roll my eyes, mostly because I was a smart ass and did that kind of thing. But also because normally when that was said, it meant I was about to have to do something. Like, work. I’ve never really thought about it much, but in my mind, I think I’ve NOT said that to Henry over and over again because I don’t want him to roll his eyes at me. But now that he rolls his eyes for all kinds of reasons, mostly because he’s a 9 year old boy who acts like a 13 year…

  • Charlie,  Group B Strep,  Sad Stuff,  Writer

    Dreams of a Tiny Casket

    Originally published at Still Standing Magazine, July 5, 2013 Yes, you read the title right. When I was pregnant with Charlie, I dreamed of a tiny casket. I dreamed about  weeping over a flower-covered, mahogany casket that was the size of a baby. I have nightmares even ten years later about foreseeing the death of my son. I must’ve been about 7 months pregnant when it happened the first time. I remember waking up in a cold sweat with a wet face, probably from crying in my sleep. At the time, I didn’t think much about it. And I didn’t tell a soul about it. And then I dreamed it…

  • Dramatic Nonsense,  Life as an Anthoine

    Just Write: The Dust Settles

    It’s been a whirlwind. All at once, all the things had to be done. Last day of work. First day of work. Moving out. Moving in. Taking the kid to Florida. Picking the kid up from Fort Valley. Everything happened all at once. It wasn’t planned like that — it is what it is. The dust is settling. We’re settling in the new house, making sure to take a minute to look out back at the calm body of water that’s feet from our back door. I’m settling in with my new job. I’ve been going into the office every day, but hope to get into the groove of working…

  • Charlie,  Sad Stuff,  Writer

    Eleven. 11. XI. Part 2.

    I have seen death. I have held it in my arms.  I have seen the beauty that comes after the darkness. I have seen the light that shines brightly on those who remember.  I have witnessed the transition from a perfect child to a perfect angel.  I have seen death. I have held it in my arms.  I have experienced the most perfect love. I continue to hold it in my heart. Happy 11th Angel Day, Charlie.

  • Disney Running and Travel,  Just Jana,  Writer

    Change.

    A few weeks ago, my energy got gunky. I’m not sure how or why or what it was about. But I know that it felt like change was brewing. You know that feeling when you know something has to change, but you aren’t sure what it is? That’s how it felt. Long story short, thoughts were put out there that if change needed to happen in my life (whatever part of my life needed it), then change was free to happen. So it did. As of Friday the 13th (next Friday), I will no longer be selling plants. I’ll no longer be making a 45 minute drive, one way, to…

  • Charlie,  Group B Strep,  Sad Stuff,  Writer

    What Happens Next?

    On May 23, Lucy posted a comment on Charlie’s Story. It moved me and prompted me to respond however I could. I am crying for you. Devastated for you. Life is so beautiful, so heartbreaking. I don’t understand why these things happen. Perhaps you have a better idea than I? I want to know more about your journey. What happens next? How did you survive? Lucy, there are no answers. And yet? There are a million answers. Now I’ll speak of my story specifically. This is mine. Not Jason’s and not anyone else who has lost a child. Because grief is like that. You can’t speak for others. There’s no…

  • Charlie,  Writer

    Eleven. 11. XI.

    Eleven years ago today, you graced us with your presence. You caught us off guard by coming a little bit early and taking forever to be delivered. You caught us off guard by being so aware, so beautiful, so wise. From the moment you arrived, your eyes told your story. They were wide and bright, inquisitive and alert. They knew too much. They knew you had a short time. When I look back at your pictures, so very few of them, your eyes are always open. I see wisdom and love and know that you lived the life you were meant to live. It wasn’t to be a long life,…