The Twenty-Dollar Martin and the 1984 Receipt That Proved My Dad’s Guitar Was Meant for Him
I was having a yard sale to clear out my late dad’s stuff. It was brutal. Every item...
Author: Mindy J. Wesner
The Twenty-Dollar Martin and Why Letting Go of My Father’s Guitar Saved Me From My Own Grief
Six months. That was how long the cardboard boxes had been stacking up against the baseboards in the...
Blackbird on the Curb and the Vintage Receipt That Proved My Dad’s Guitar Was Meant for Him
Three hundred and forty-two days. That was how long the house had smelled like cold coffee, stale peppermints,...
The Room with the Yellow Walls and Why Forty-Nine Years of Prayers Finally Found Their Answer in Hospice
The radiator in room 214 of St. Jude’s has this steady, rhythmic clank that sounds just like the...
The Room with the Yellow Walls and Why Forty-Nine Years of Prayers Finally Found Their Answer in Hospice
The radiator in room 214 of St. Jude’s has this steady, rhythmic clank that sounds just like the...
The Room with the Yellow Walls and Why Forty-Nine Years of Prayers Finally Found Their Answer in Hospice
The radiator in the corner of room 214 has this steady, rhythmic clank that sounds just like the...
The Hat on the Clinic Chair and Why My Son-in-Law’s Control Nearly Cost Us Everything
Six months. One hundred and eighty-two days of dropping off packages at a post office box in town,...
The Name on the Emergency Card and Why My Daughter’s Disguised Clinic Visit Saved Her Life
The grey metal edge of my office filing cabinet had a tiny dent near the top drawer where...
The Stitched Monogram on Baby Toby’s Hat and Why My Daughter’s Fake Surname Emergency Contact Saved Her Life
The smell of antiseptic and old linoleum wax always sits heavy in the back of my throat, but...
Everything She Wanted and Why My Mother’s Return Twenty-One Years Later Backfired Completely
The grease on the blue Willow-pattern plate had gone cold by the time Mom finally set the box...