For all its beauty, last spring had a pall of grief tucked in here and there between the blooming flowers and dappled light. We didn’t know what was here or what was coming — and it was scary.
A few months ago, I crashed a party.
My family isn’t good at celebrating Easter the way some folks do.
Late one night last week, my husband walked over to me, handed me a folded piece of paper and said, “I think your boyfriend left this for you in the mailbox.”
When our daughters were tiny and could barely talk, we started going around the table after dinner and each telling our individual highlights of the day. Most nights, just our family of four shared. Other nights, a whole gang of friends were sitti…
I always walk by this particular house, but until one afternoon a couple of weeks ago, I had never seen anyone there. On that afternoon, as I was walking by, a small voice shouted, “You wanna see my millipede?”
My friend Amee Miles Merkle is a hospital clinical pharmacist in northern Mississippi. When she heard COVID vaccinations were being rolled out for senior citizens and then that “the whole system is online,” she saw a need.
My dear aunt and uncle, Doris and Mack Greer, have lived as isolated throughout the pandemic as I have. So when I went home to visit my parents last fall in Forest, Mississippi, I didn’t hesitate to visit my aunt and uncle.
As 2020 progressed, so many people talked about how they were looking forward to the year being done, as if a new day, a new month, a new year would change things.
I’m not sure if the thunderstorm started before or after the big program on the last night of cheerleader camp.
Last week, I took an informal, unscientific survey of friends asking two questions. The first: “After almost a year of living differently, what do you look most forward to when we are able to live more freely again?”
When the pandemic started in the spring of 2020, I began to take daily walks. Back then, I sometimes took three or four walks a day because I didn’t know what to do with all the energy I had previously used in other ways. My walks have helped save…
Storytelling always draws me in.
The pandemic has been a strange combination of tedium and disruption.
The year we’ve finished has had more than its share of pain and loss. For some, specific pains 2020 brought will require deep healing. This column does not seek to diminish their grief in any way.
At any time, but especially in these times, silliness is not to be underrated — neither is the willingness to put yourself out there, to laugh at yourself and to know you may be inspiring others to join in the fun.
Volunteers live faith, Cajun values as they provide a lifeline to immigrants released from detention
One of my favorite verses is Hebrews 13:2. “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” The verse always makes me consider the Christmas story and the innkeeper who found a stable for Mary and Josep…
I asked friends this week what they’ve learned during the pandemic.
For decades, when my parents, Nelda and Gary Risher, have hosted out-of-towners, my dad has forced most of the guests to join him for a tour of the town where they live and where my whole family grew up — Forest, Mississippi. (population 5,608).
Even now, when both of our children are legal adults, the mystery of what happens to our teaspoons and butter knives endures.
This year has offered more than its share of lemons.
Two tidbits are necessary to appreciate the email that just sent me over the moon: I’m a grown woman, and I’ve never seen a professional soccer game.
Yard signs have struck a chord in our neighborhood in this tumultuous election season. Though moments have been touch-and-go, thus far, in my neighborhood, we have managed to keep the peace.
In the last two weeks, I have felt like I’ve been living in the nursery rhyme, “One, two, buckle my shoe.”
In this era of one day lulling into another, I decided being intentional about doing at least one out-of-the-ordinary thing each week was a good idea. I needed to look forward to a break in the rhythm of life. I needed things beyond sitting at my …
Friendship in the time of COVID-19 presents challenges.
For the first time since 2008, I decided to evacuate for a storm.
“We the people…”
Two weeks ago, I had never heard of Bigfork, Montana.
Years ago, my mother had a navy-blue Crown Victoria — that car was like a large tank. I believe my parents must have installed an early model navigation system in the car because I’m pretty sure the car was too old to have one built in. That navig…
My husband and I have been on the road nearly a week. It’s the most highly edited trip we’ve ever taken. Routes and plans keep changing.
The call of the open road is like a siren to me.
The Vermilion River flows behind my home.
The quarantine/pandemic has offered more time to play games than my family has had for years. We’ve played loads of Scrabble and a multitude of other games too, but sometimes I like playing a game on my own, when I think back and try to identify a…
Piper, our younger daughter, started planning what her dorm room would look like before she started the process of deciding where she would go to college.
Facing uncertainty is exhausting.
In the moment, I met Piper, our baby girl, a string quartet was playing "Moon River." Nearly 18 years have passed since that Sunday night in a hotel lobby in Nanchang, China.
Much to my husband’s duress, we do not have a television in our living room.
In the third grade, I still tried to follow all the rules and finish all the assignments.
As we celebrate the anniversary of our nation’s independence, I’ve spent time dissecting a big realization I’ve had over the last week — which turned out to be easier than the time in 10th grade my lab partner and I used a tiny blade to find a fro…
“All the Gold in California” by The Gatlin Brothers is the only song I can sing harmony to on my own.
I wish I could take my dad to Piccadilly to celebrate Father’s Day.
After months of touchless, faceless exchanges while staying home, the past week has been fascinating, beautiful, full of lessons and also exhausting in its own way. It has been a week of origami, community, collecting and hanging cranes.
My children taught me how to fold origami cranes. They learned years ago from a Japanese babysitter named Jiro Hatano, who happened to be one of the smartest, kindest and most gentle people I’ve ever known.
About the time Piper, my now 18-year-old daughter, got her driver’s license, she hijacked my Spotify account.
I’ve gone for a 30-minute walk every day since the quarantine began. By now, a brisk walk is a habit. My walk last Saturday morning started out with a close encounter with a juvenile owl.
Delilah has been a steadfast quarantine companion.
What a shame that I’m not writing this Mother’s Day column before I had kids.
In the years to come, when we look back at the launch of the 2020 quarantine, I have a feeling that I’ll appreciate the way the pace of life changed considerably. I believe the thing I’ll remember most is the way, suddenly, our family spent countl…