I'm a former public school teacher who now teaches at home. I write about education, faith, family and race all wrapped up desiring God while I'm here on earth. I also love writing poetry, fiction and historical fiction. Thanks for checking out my portfolio!
I posted this picture of my family and I from a gathering with our homeschool co-op friends on Facebook. It received many likes and even a comment about our great family, and there was much love and support. Then, I saw a video a friend had posted of the latest fatal police shooting of an unarmed black man.
I see you, Sister. This Christmas is a "first" for you. The first Christmas without your mom or your dad, or your beloved grandparent or friend. It may be the first Christmas since the divorce or since that relationship ended badly.
I lost her input into questions I wanted answered. I lost her fashion advice and amazing ability to style my hair. I lost her sweet heart and compassion for people. But I also lost a part of me that had for so long defined me.
A couple of weeks ago, 13 years after September 11th became "Nine-Eleven", I sat at my computer listening to recorded messages people in the twin towers left their loved ones when they realized they weren't ever coming home again.
My grandmother was not an academically educated woman. She died at the age of 73 without knowing how to read or write or drive a car. She grew up poor in Peoria, Illinois, moved to Wisconsin as an adult and was a single mother to three children, my dad the middle child.