It’s hard to stash a shopping bag of secret contents into a closet from the early 1900’s. These closets are sometimes wide but never deep. Stash it low and the bag peeked out from behind disheveled shoes. Stash it high and my six-foot man was sure to be eye-level. I heard footsteps in the hall…
My husband, Bill, and I have this thing we sometimes say to each other. It doesn’t seem like a big deal, but it’s one of those habitual, intentional refrains we’ve chiseled into the foundation of our marriage. We don’t write it, we say it… but if we did write it down, and if archeologists were…
Feeling the sting of rejection recently and with tears in my eyes, I said to my husband, “I just want to know where I belong and I want to hang out there for a while.” With tenderness in his eyes and in his voice he reached out and brought me in close to him, saying,…
