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The sound of her voice

"I hear Moriah. I just love her voice.  I heard it down the hall." Smiles bend the edges of my friend's eyes.
I nod in agreement. "Me too."
I smile. I love Moriah's voice too.
My mom has said the same words.
About her voice.

I like the way her voice follows me around the house chattering about this and that.
When she walks down the steps after sleeping soundly, golden hair messy spilling down around her  face.
Her eyes full mocha moons.
"Let me tell you about my great dream." Her eyes fully rounded for dramatic effect as her voice carries me through a ten minute dream.
"How was your great dream?" She asks into my morning.
I laugh.
Maybe that's why I  love  Moriah's voice. The pleasant sound of her voice married to her astounding positivity.
I've never met a more positive person.
I suppose that's possibly because she's four.
I don't know though.
There isn't much pouting or complaining.
After the occas…
Recent posts


I remember the velvet box my sweet friend Stacie handed me for my birthday.  It was high school sophomore year I think.  I was turning sixteen.  Opening the box revealed a simple necklace. A tiny dot of brown yellow encapsulated in a circular piece of glass hanging on a silver chain.
I don't remember if I cocked my head to the side and looked at the necklace quizzically.  But I do know Stacie explained to me that the tiny fleck of gold was actually a mustard seed.
"It's a mustard seed.  You know like the one in the Bible.  Where a tiny seed of faith will actually grow to be one of the largest trees." She smiled at me.
I remember with joy hugging her and slipping it around my neck.  I know where I could find it now.  Sixteen years later.  It's somewhere tucked in the closet that is still filled with prom dresses, mystery books, and all of my yearbooks in my parents house. I'm pretty positive it rests In one of my memento filled shoe b…

Babies & Spring

Spring makes me think of babies.  Despite the fact that there are no spring birthdays in our house.  I think its because animals have babies in the spring right?
Or maybe because everything feels newly birthed after the travail of winter. 
Perhaps for me it's because I remember my first spring with my first baby, Meredith.
Meredith was born in the depths of January.  Nine years ago.  I remember staying cooped up in my house for several weeks.  After a traumatic birth and extended hospital stay, I was met with a dark an unexpected bout with post partum depression. I ached for spring.  When Spring broke through the bleak slate of winter I felt hope.
I remember that spring because I forced myself outside as much as possible with my new baby.  I needed natural things like sunshine and fresh grass to bring me back to life.  I had never experienced until that point that depth of personal darkness. A darkness I couldn't break on my own.  I tried to be brave and pretend all was wel…

Lemonade Afternoons & Dandelion Evenings

Yesterday was the perfect spring day.  Sky crisply blue with tissue paper clouds torn and scattered all over the sky at just the right spots.  Everything bright and brilliant. Vivid spring flowers dotted the countryside as we drove country roads going home from a field trip.  Yellow weeds highlighting all of the pasture land. It's the time of year when grass is new and deeply green. 
My two youngest and I had just went on a field trip with preschool. The baby lulled to sleep and Moriah sang quiet songs to herself as we drove home.  When we reached one of the main roads home I found myself turning right instead of left. I had a lot of housework to do and dinner to make before everyone else got home.
But I felt restless and decided to go see my mom.
I whispered to Moriah, "If Pimmy  (what they call their grandma) isn't here we won't be staying," I wanted to make sure that she wouldn't have a melt down if we pulled up to the fun house and didn't stay.  I …


Sorting through laundry this morning and I remembered. 
It's her birthday.  March tenth.  It's Caryn's birthday.
Closing the washing machine lid I went looking for my phone.  Finding it I sent out a quick birthday text. 
Memories started to playing back in my mind.  Snapshots of elementary school, middle school, high school, and even back to last year.
I decided to write about Caryn today because her life is brimming over with treasure.
We can all learn a lot from Caryn.
I know that I have.
When I think about Caryn's life I can actually see all of the elements of an astounding story.  Only right now she's somewhere in the thick of the conflict trying to fight through to the peaceful resolution, the happy ending.

First memory of Caryn is in fifth grade.  Silky hair streaked gold from the sun.  Olive colored skin.  Bright green eyes.  I am looking at her in the library and we have all just learned that she moved from North Carolina. 
The following year after…

Slow - Five Minute Fridays

Interruptions slow.
Interruptions are detours that weave you through backstreets like stray ribbons.
Sometimes backstreets refresh.  You see different parts of the neighborhoods you pass every day.
I'm okay with detours if I'm not in a mad rush to get somewhere.
We get figurative detours almost every day.
Perhaps not roads that twist us through communities and thwart our fast attempts to get to our destination. Extra tasks emerge that we weren't expecting, lost items to search for, or perhaps a sweet friend on our doorstep. 
Wednesday found me mentally checking off items in my head.  I had seemed to be more productive than usual. 
I started to walk down stairs to grab towels out of the dryer quickly so that I could make a trip to the grocery store.  I heard my name being called.
"Hey Somer!" I heard a recognizable voice call out through the noise of my chattering four year old and one year old. 
I walked back upstairs and saw my sweet friend Rachelle in m…

Sister Birthdays

The four sisters in my life share birthday weeks.
Two in February.
Two in July. 
Both within a few days of each other.

This week my sister of the heart celebrated her birthday and so does my real sister.
It's funny.  I've joked with both women about February.  And how much we love it.
It's that short and sweet love themed month.
It fits because two of the most loving people I know begin their story in February.

Heart Sister.
I never knew when I met her that I would become intricately connected to her.
I remember being intimidated by her, but surprised by how kind she was to me.
Of course I was intimidated.  She is stunning. Naturally bright blonde hair and equally bright blue eyes.
Recently, I was at a dinner party and someone asked the question, "Who is the kindest person you know?" It was supposed to be a question to ponder, but instantly I whispered her name.
I didn't have to think about it.  It was an automatic response because it was the truth …