What I Finally Let Go Of, and Why
There was a box in my closet for almost fifteen years that I moved four times without ever opening, through two different houses and one apartment in between....
Read the pieceI write A Home Filled With Love from the house I have kept for most of my life. Most of what I write about arrived here from somebody else's house first, and I would rather tell you the version with the mistake still in it.
There was a box in my closet for almost fifteen years that I moved four times without ever opening, through two different houses and one apartment in between....
Read the piece
My son Marcus moved out three years ago, and for a while his room stayed exactly as he left it, which is…

A faded green wingback chair sits at the exact angle to catch the last hour of afternoon light, and the twenty quiet…

There is a blanket folded over the back of my reading chair that took me three winters to finish, not because it…

My mother could not walk past a torn hem or a loose button without stopping to fix it, even if the garment…

There is a cake plate in my cabinet with a small chip along the rim, a wedding gift from more than forty…

I once paid two dollars for a frame with no photograph in mind for it. None of my frames match, and after…

Sunday dinner at our table isn't a special occasion exactly. It's just a slower version of the same table we use every…

The ring is not valuable in any way a jeweler would recognize. It is a thin band of gold, worn nearly smooth…

There is a particular kind of quiet that settles into a house about twenty minutes after the last guest's car pulls out…