Avoiding the Death Mother Trap

By the time I was 38 years old, I’d been widowed, divorced, and abandoned by three men I’d married, and I had a toddler and a teenager to raise on my own. It was no small undertaking. There was deep disappointment in me. Blame, shame, resentment and even fury were...

The Lies That Bind Us

Growing up, I lived about a dozen miles from my maternal grandmother’s farm. I loved spending weekends with her. At the end of the day, when Grampa was in bed reading the newspaper or snoring in his sleep, I would sit in the living room with Granny and watch TV. She...