Uplifting And Positive News
Pressure. I’m feeling it. The need to declare allegiance to a team. To claim certain values. A way of life. Hold your political horses. You know we don’t go there in this space. And yet, With summer vacation wrapping up, another round of trips ready to post in the digital scrapbook, There feels this need to own, Honestly own, Where I fall in one of life’s big questions. Do you travel or do you vacation? Because, Dear Reader, you know
Please help me. I need a word. A word we don’t have in English. One that we really need. That I need. Today. For today is a sad day. My friend’s mom has passed away. A woman I’ve known more than 30 years. A woman who has made me laugh. Made me feel loved. A woman who has suffered with illness far too long. So, perhaps, it is not sad that she is gone, That chapter closed. But it is
I might as well go ahead and tell you. Self-report. Spill. If I don’t, surely, you’ll hear about it from my daughter. Same daughter who is about to become a senior in high school. Same daughter I thoroughly embarrassed this week. It all started with an invitation I never saw coming. “My senior class pictures are Tuesday and I think you should come with me,” she casually threw out a few days before. Apparently, this is quite the deal at
Something smells funny in my marriage. And by something, I mean someone. And by someone, I mean my husband. He doesn’t smell bad. Rather, wonderful, I must say. But he smells funny, as in his sense of smell. He smells everything. I interrupt our upcoming fourth wedding anniversary to ask, “Why didn’t you mention this before I got married?” Of all the things we were supposed to figure out if we’re compatible—religion, politics, money, raising kids, health. No one mentioned
We’re having a popularity crisis at our house. What do you expect in house filled with teens? How sweet of you to offer your sincere compassion about our kids. Actually, you can save your concern. For them. They are fine. It’s we parents who are not doing so well. In case you haven’t heard– We are terrible people. Truly. Terrible. One teen this week was not allowed to drive home by herself through a bad neighborhood at 1 am. You
It was just supposed to be a short vacation. Not a chance to learn yet another life lesson. A chance to not work my brain and my heart so hard. That’s what I was thinking last week as my travel wizard husband pulled one of his miles miracles and flew us off to Costa Rica. Just us. No kids. No worries. That was the idea. At least. Until reality came crashing into paradise. “Did you hear what happened in Orlando?”
You’ll forgive my cousin. She’s a little weepy today. Her Facebook feed popped up one of those anniversary photos that remind you where you were a year ago. What a photo. What a year. Amanda and her husband, Adam, were in Ethiopia. Meeting their son for the first time. In person, that is. They met him in their hearts years before. So, you might want to make this “What a three years!” Ask anyone who has adopted, Dear Reader. They’ll
Millions have had their say about the massacre early Sunday morning at The Pulse nightclub in Orlando. Here are a couple of my thoughts, just in case we’re not connected on Facebook. And we can always spend more time together with my book, “Hope Possible: A Network News Anchor’s Thoughts On Losing Her Job, Finding Love, A New Career, And My Dog, Always My Dog.”
My husband caught me. Not in a secret, per se. But certainly something I’ve been able to keep it to myself through almost four years of marriage. “Sure does take you a long time to blow dry your hair,” he remarked the other day. “Yeah, sure does,” I agreed pointing to what I thought was my perfect alibi—the huge mop of hair on my head. “What exactly do you do in there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow of suspicion. “Brush,
“We have a crisis going on here.” Those are not exactly the words you want to hear from your daughter when you’re calling home from the other side of the country. “I’ve only been gone a few hours. What could possibly have gone wrong?” I asked with a jillion scenarios racing through my mind. “Daddy can’t find his keys,” my daughter explained. “Oh,” was all I could say, at first simultaneously giving thanks that that was all it was, and
