Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
Dear Female Ancestors, I have decided to do something impossible. I want to communicate back through time and space the love I feel for each and every one of my female ancestors. Human limitations being what they are, of course, I am limited to writing this love letter in my Read more
The last thing she wanted was to be in just another pretty box house in a small town sand box in the yard Joined the army World War II Driver of Ike I’m told Loved to drive mediation on the move unattached independent Grandma’s happy because she’s going away The Read more
For Faith and Praise I remember sitting at the make-up table in our room writing goodbye letters to mummy, daddy, and each of you, interrupted every now and then by a tear which would spill out until it finally gave way to something like a crying-out-loud – It sounds silly Read more
As the eldest in a large family, I grew up taking care of others. Watching my younger siblings, I learned to develop a sixth sense; I reserved a part of my attention to wander on that periphery where something might flare up among any one of them, at any time. Read more
My mom claims that when we were young, she would occasionally go into her bedroom with a book, lock the door behind her and leave my dad in charge of us on those days when, as she said, “I thought I would lose my mind.” I’d often heard my mom Read more
On our way to school last week, Atticus, 12, and I discuss our black cat’s willingness to lie in the driveway, unafraid or oblivious to traffic. “Like a cat in Pompeii, Mom,” Atticus observes, “Just caught.” “In lava,” I add, “and left there for thousands of years.” “Have you been Read more
This interview is the first time Sandy Arias has spoken publicly about her daughter Jodi Arias. Sandra Dee Allen was born in 1958 in a small Northern California town. I love to call her Sandy Dee. It fits, somehow. I met Sandy at Jodi Arias’s sentencing trial, in September 2014. She Read more
I remember my fascination as a young girl of six or seven, laying on my parent’s king size bed watching my mother comb out her long, light brown hair. My mother was always different than all the other moms. Sure, she was sweet, made cookies and drove us to the Read more