Blog
Chicken Fingers

The last best friend my Memom had was Marge. Every night at dinner, the two sat together in the nursing home dining hall. With her glaucoma and macular degeneration, Memom could hardly see, so Marge read her the menu.
Mother's Day

My niece knows to reach for my hand when she wants to run through her backyard sprinkler in her Sunday best. I’m the aunt who didn’t move back after college. In my family, women don’t inherit the farm but are expected to stay.
The Bird

“Can you help us?” I don’t know the student leaning into my office with this question. But I’ve just finished active shooter training, a mental health webinar, and several pandemic-response seminars, so I assume the worst. I follow her down the hall as she explains. A bird is swooping around their classroom. It might hurt itself.
Back in the Same Day

“Back in the same day!” my dad proclaims as he eases the car down the narrow driveway of my childhood home. He says this upon returning from the grocery store, or dinner out, or family trips to the movies.
Cool Mom

Nothing about this year has been normal. It’s already the middle of May when the first spring-like weather arrives in Minnesota. The windows are open as I drive my son and his classmate home from middle school. It’s been a year of transitions. It’s been a year of adolescents pushing boundaries. It’s been a year of “No’s.”