Journeying Home Together
Last spring my family had the chance to travel to the mountains of West Virginia to visit my husband’s extended family. The highlight of the trip, for me, was visiting the farm where my mother-in-law grew up: deep in the Shenandoah Valley, nestled between the rolling hills and a hilly mile’s walk from the nearest road – which wasn’t paved. (And the nearest road wasn’t a big one, either.) The
My husband and I aren’t big watchers of (current) TV shows. If we’re going to watch anything on TV, our default is “Friends” reruns on Netflix. We’ve seen the entire series way too many times because honestly, there’s just not much on the few channels we get that we’re interested in watching. (Also, as a side note, we’re now incapable of having an entire conversation without a reference to the
Hey there, mama. You’re sending your little one off for their first day of school, huh? It might actually be their first day of school – their first steps into the world of kindergarten – or this might be one of their last first days. Mine? She’s in third grade now, so I guess I’m somewhere in the middle. We haven’t been at this thing too long, but I’ve learned
She sat on the crinkly exam room paper, her eight-year-old body tiny on the table meant for adults more than twice her size. Her paper gown the nurse had given her was bunched around her neck, her shoulders were hunched, and her big, brown eyes were round with anxiety. “Here we go,” the nurse said, and my little girl grabbed my hand. What followed was what seemed like a forever-long
I was walking across our back yard the other day, our outdoor cats weaving around my ankles, when I stopped in my tracks. (The cats were very confused.) Out of nowhere, I was powerfully struck by what I saw happening around me in nature. It’s happened many times before, certainly: noticing cloud shapes and sunsets and sunrise colors, usually. (My husband says I’m always looking up, and he doesn’t mean
At the restaurant, we laughed until our sides hurt and tears streamed down our faces. It wasn’t until I was driving home later, tears streaming down my face yet again, that I realized exactly what had been happening in that moment. I was having dessert with two of my closest friends – a desperately-needed night out. (At a local cafe known for its desserts larger than the average human head,
A week or so ago my daughter and I took a road trip with my dad. We traveled the (longer than I remembered) trip to Alabama for the homecoming celebration of a tiny country church my great-great-great-great grandparents planted in 1835. It was an incredible trip, full of eye-opening stories and insights to the power of legacy and time with family we rarely get to see. It was also an exhausting
On the first morning back to school after spring break, I woke up with a horrible headache and the suspected onset of a cold. Add in my daughter’s anti-enthusiasm about school and a cat who demanded more attention than normal, and my morning was off to a rough start. At 7:16, I sighed and took a sip of my already-cold coffee. “I’m just done,” I muttered, as I walked from
A week or so ago, I went to my daughter’s school to read to her class. As the eighteen second-graders lined up to go outside to eat the (Pinterest-inspired and extremely juicy) fruit kabobs I had brought for a snack, several of them surrounded me. It wasn’t the Pyrex dish in my hands that had their attention, though. They had questions for me. “Mrs. Bolyard, are you really writing a
My daughter and I were in a minor accident this past Sunday on our way home from church. It happened at an intersection we drive through several times a week, and as we passed it last night I took a deep breath and told her, “All right! We did it!” She was understandably confused. The thing is, I tend to get superstitious about things like that. I don’t necessarily think
