Stories written in ink, rooted in the earth.

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growing up

  • A Child’s Holiday

    Christmas morning at Grandma and Grandpa’s house feels like waking up inside a secret wonderland. The house is quiet but full at the same time, like it’s holding its breath. I wake up early anyway. The air smells different here—like coffee, cinnamon, and something already cooking even though it’s still morning. The living room glows Read more

  • Whispering Winter

    Winter arrives without a sound. The air turns cold and clean, and my breath becomes small white clouds that linger upon the gentle breeze. I pull my coat close and listen to the quiet. The lights come on one by one. They glow softly on houses and trees, not loud, not bright—just enough. When snow Read more

  • Parenting Doesn’t End At 18

    Parenting is a journey that never truly ends. My kids are now adults, but their lives continue to intertwine with mine. From guiding them through challenges to celebrating their successes, I’m proud to be a part of their lives in every way possible. Read more

  • Nose To Nose

    Nose to nose, here we layYour body against mine With darkness all around usI make a deal with time. Give me one more momentTo stop and soak you in. Knowing time, it’s fleetingFor see, that’s just the thing – This time I have, it’s borrowedIt was never mine to keep My lips, they move to Read more