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Of course, once the conversations started flowing — the messages, the social media stalking, the “Wait… is that REALLY their face?” moments — and yes, maybe a video chat or two where I pretended not to be staring too hard at the other’s features, the inevitable next step arrived. We…

The days leading up to the viewing and funeral of our sweet Laura were a blur of tears, laughter, and mall shopping for something—anything—purple. Purple… how we all love purple. It wasn’t even a question. It wasn’t, “Should we wear purple?” It was, “Wear purple for the funeral.” Period. Captain…

I can’t even begin to put into words what the drive to the hospital was like. Shock and disbelief didn’t just take over—they swallowed us whole. Autopilot was the only thing keeping our cars moving, like our bodies knew the route even though our minds were somewhere else entirely. No…

First, a half‑assed apology for slacking in the writing department. And I say half‑assed because, truthfully, I don’t even know how to continue. The past few weeks have been both a whirlwind and a tornado rolled into one hell of an emotional rollercoaster. To say things have been “busy” is…

Perhaps it’s time for a brief intermission from the saga of sorrow that’s become the hallmark of my existence—a little palate cleanser, if you will. I recently received a couple of reader questions, and one in particular caught me off guard. It was a bit trippy, honestly, because it asked…

The date was still February 4th, 2019 but the hours had flown by and it was then 8:16pm. “Ding.” A different sound this time. The soft, familiar flutter of a Facebook messenger message. All sounds coming from my cell phone had made me a bit jumpy by this point. haha…

The digital clock on my phone screen held fast the time 12:13 PM. I’d just popped on to check the Estimated Date of Results page on Ancestry. Estimated Date for Results: February 6. Three days. Seventy-two hours to live in this strange, suspended reality between all that I have ever…

How is this even possible? I thought, as I hung up the phone and tossed it with a thud that echoed louder than it should have. No matches. Zero. Niente. Nada. Zilch. The kind of nothing that makes your stomach drop and your brain spiral into a full-blown existential crisis.…

OK, back on track. Chronologically speaking, this next segment picks up right where Post #20: Three Amigos left off — the moment my world tilted just a little more on its axis. Finding out the names of my biological grandparents was like cracking open a vault I didn’t even know…