“Mama, home?” My daughter was just barely two years old, and I could see the distress on her sweet face in my rear-view mirror. She was trying to get comfortable in her car seat, but the setting sun shone right in her eyes no matter where she moved her head.
Nostalgia is a dirty liar that insists that things were really better than they were” -unknown Sometimes I get hit with huge waves of nostalgia that romanticize the most inconsequential moments or seasons of my life. I’ll go through whole days of sitting in that nostalgia, battling emotional confusion and
My blond hair phase. My first year of college. Cross-country running. My first attempt at street witnessing. Crocs. My attempt at owning a flower shop. My second year of college. Taking tap dancing classes. Thinking I could cook cookies without a recipe. Quilting. Watching Anna Karenina. Trying to draw faces. Gardening.