I was 75 when I finally decided to choose myself. Not in some grand, dramatic way, no. My life had never been about grand gestures, always about quiet sacrifice. It …
Choosing Myself at 75: A Quiet Ending and an Unexpected Lesson Read More
It started with a pendant. Not just any pendant, but the pendant. He gave it to me early in our relationship, a few months in, when everything felt like a dizzying, beautiful …
More Than Jewelry: A Story of Pride, Memory, and Meaning Read More It started with a pendant. Not just any pendant, but the pendant. He gave it to me early in our relationship, a few months in, when everything felt like a dizzying, beautiful …
More Than Jewelry: A Story of Pride, Memory, and Meaning Read More It started with a pendant. Not just any pendant, but the pendant. He gave it to me early in our relationship, a few months in, when everything felt like a dizzying, beautiful …
More Than Jewelry: A Story of Pride, Memory, and Meaning Read More It started with a pendant. Not just any pendant, but the pendant. He gave it to me early in our relationship, a few months in, when everything felt like a dizzying, beautiful …
More Than Jewelry: A Story of Pride, Memory, and Meaning Read More It started with a pendant. Not just any pendant, but the pendant. He gave it to me early in our relationship, a few months in, when everything felt like a dizzying, beautiful …
More Than Jewelry: A Story of Pride, Memory, and Meaning Read More
I remember the first time I really saw her. Not just observed, but saw. It was in Professor Davies’ elective, “Art as Reflection.” She was always there, hunched in the back, a ghost. …
A Classroom Lesson in Empathy: When Assumptions Quietly Fall Apart Read More I remember the first time I really saw her. Not just observed, but saw. It was in Professor Davies’ elective, “Art as Reflection.” She was always there, hunched in the back, a ghost. …
A Classroom Lesson in Empathy: When Assumptions Quietly Fall Apart Read More I remember the first time I really saw her. Not just observed, but saw. It was in Professor Davies’ elective, “Art as Reflection.” She was always there, hunched in the back, a ghost. …
A Classroom Lesson in Empathy: When Assumptions Quietly Fall Apart Read More I remember the first time I really saw her. Not just observed, but saw. It was in Professor Davies’ elective, “Art as Reflection.” She was always there, hunched in the back, a ghost. …
A Classroom Lesson in Empathy: When Assumptions Quietly Fall Apart Read More