Where I've Been

And who I've lost.

If you’ve been here with me for a while, you know that my life has become something very different over the last few years. I’m still not sure how to write this part of the story, but it feels important to try. Thanks for reading.

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When I was a kid, my dad never answered the phone. “It’s not for me,” he’d say, or my favorite, “assholes always trying to sell me something.” The outside world held little interest for him. This is a foundational memory from my childhood. To call dad a private person would diminish his legacy. He was simply….selective. If he allowed you into his life, he’d share his stories like handfuls of popcorn, big bowls full even. He didn’t expect his life to be big, never sought out the spotlight. I suppose that’s why it’s hard to give it to him now. He never wanted all the fuss.

I’ll tell you one thing I remember about dad: he was the dependable ticking clock that enfolded our little family in steadiness and safety. Unlike many children, I knew exactly what time my dad would walk through the door at the end of his workday (4:00 pm). We could count on him. In the most simple ways. Always. After my sister and I moved out of the house, he started answering the phone (maybe it was his way of letting us know he was still there for us). But true to himself, as soon as he answered, he’d say, “howdy…here’s mom.”

Dad died on Sunday, February 15th. He slept through most of Valentine’s Day surrounded by the women he loved: mom, my sister, and me. In the end, it was just me and dad. I’ll never know why it turned out that way, but I felt honored. Leaning in close to his ear, I thanked him on behalf of all of us. Resting my hand on his heart, I watched as he exhaled his last breath. I’ve been trying to steady mine ever since.

Goodbye dad. We love you. Always.

Why I’m Coming Back

Over the past few months, I’ve isolated myself out of necessity. I’ve barely written a word. I needed that time alone, not answering calls, not engaging with the world. But I believe in the power of community and connection to heal, even though my life and my community have grown smaller and smaller lately. As I grieve him, I want to honor him by being myself. I am a woman who writes. My favorite way of writing is in the company of others. I’d love to write with you. Anytime. Soon. Maybe really soon.

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Write with Me

Words for the Invisible
An online writing workshop for those who are living with Chronic Illness and/or Invisible Disability. Reduce isolation and loneliness through capturing and sharing stories with an affinity group of writers who share similar challenges. Co-hosting with Kate Marshall Flaherty.
Wednesday, April 15, 2026
10:00 am - 12:00 pm Pacific Time
$20 (no one turned away because of financial challenges)
Register HERE

AWA Monthly Online Write
An opportunity to experience the Amherst Writers & Artists (AWA) method. I’ll be your host this month. If you haven’t written with me before or are unfamiliar with AWA, I’d love to meet you there. If we’ve written together, it’s always a joy and pleasure to see you!
Saturday, April 25, 2026
10:00 am - 12:00 pm Pacific Time
$20 (no one turned away because of financial challenges)
Register HERE

Holiday Survival Guide: Mother’s Day Edition
Mother’s Day can be complicated. This edition of Holiday Survival Writing offers lots of room to explore your own mother stories, ones that can’t be summed up on a greeting card. Come write into what’s there: celebrating a mother, becoming a mother, missing a mother or a child, or longing for things to be different. Co-hosting with Karen Rosenberg.
Friday, May 8, 2026
10:00 am - 12:00 pm
$20 (no one turned away because of financial challenges)
Register HERE

And, no, I won’t be offering a Father’s Day workshop. Not yet.