After a difficult weekend at a family graduation, I found myself reflecting on loss, isolation, disability, and the life I thought I'd be living. Sometimes being left to your own devices isn't loneliness—it's freedom.
After a difficult weekend at a family graduation, I found myself reflecting on loss, isolation, disability, and the life I thought I'd be living. Sometimes being left to your own devices isn't loneliness—it's freedom.
A quick trip to celebrate a family graduation turned into an unexpected rescue mission when two wastelanders discovered a lonely Yorkshire Terrier abandoned at a remote Utah rest area. Sometimes doing the right thing is as simple as refusing to leave someone behind.
A raw letter to my mother three years after her death, reflecting on grief, sobriety, domestic violence, regret, family, military service, faith, and the complicated process of learning to forgive yourself.
A reflective piece about grief, memory, and the strange comfort of feeling a loved one’s presence long after they’re gone—told through a weekend of reflection, a glowing acrylic heart, and the quiet ways a mother’s love lingers.