Maybe the question isn’t always why, maybe the answer is simply “my”. Maybe there is power in not always asking why but being thankful for “my”.
I hate to hear of people complaining of growing older. I feel annoyed when people “dread” their birthdays, but I have to be honest, and admit that I’ve been one of those people for the past couple of weeks. My birthday is less than a week away and it makes me sad to think about,… Continue reading His “My Last Birthday”…
The weekend after Luke’s funeral, I got a call from his Mom asking me if I wanted a peace lily from the service. I of course jumped at the opportunity, and in my car to go pick it up. I honestly felt honored she chose me to give something to and at the time I… Continue reading Just a Plant
I love to write. Writing centers me, it calms me and it helps me process my own feelings when everything feels like a jumbled mess inside my head and heart. I started this blog not having a plan. I felt I had a story to tell and I wanted to share it but I didn’t… Continue reading Right There in Black & White
Guess who submitted a story for publication? Guess who is officially published? Me! This has become one of my greatest adventures! I love my readers, I love this blog and it’s all been so much more than I could have imagined! Check out my story of “Starting Over” by clicking right here. Xo – Steph Special… Continue reading Published!
Don’t say it shouldn’t bother you. If it bothers you, it bothers you and that’s completely fine. You’re not wrong for being upset by these comments! Not at all! I think it perfectly acceptable to tell people how you feel.
Your life, your beating heart, the capacity to feel the sun on your face…some days, if they can be, maybe those things have to be enough. I have seen darkness, darkness I didn’t think the sun could touch, but here I am, and I am so thankful for that sun.
If it makes you cry when you write it, it’s good. This one made me bleed. Xo – Steph
His sign, while still special, but it’s really just letters on a board. His name is now just a name, not a person, with a beating heart, he is a memory. In memory of…