• Charlie,  Disney Running and Travel,  Just Jana,  Team RMHC

    Goals. And Reaching Them.

    It’s not a secret, if you’ve been around here for a bit, that I have a love/hate relationship with running. I had never been a runner until one random morning in June 2012 when I decided, “Hey, I should run.” Yes, just like Forrest Gump. Short version of the story: I started Couch to 5k and a few days later was talked into signing up for the Princess Half Marathon, which would be run a short 8 months after I got my ass off my couch. It was with the team from the Ronald McDonald House in Macon. I’ve been a part of the RMHC in Macon since before it…

  • Charlie,  Life as an Anthoine

    The Photographs

    We had been talking about getting a fancy digital camera. In 2003, there weren’t a million choices like there are now, and the choices that were out there were either expensive or Capital E Expensive. We’d done our homework and knew which one we were going to get. But we had time. After all, the baby wasn’t due until June. Until it was time. As I moaned and groaned in the L&D room, my husband gave his work-wife instructions on EXACTLY which camera it was. The lens size. The case he wanted. The extra memory card he would need so he could fill it with memories of this day. And to…

  • Charlie,  Writer

    Eleven. 11. XI.

    Eleven years ago today, you graced us with your presence. You caught us off guard by coming a little bit early and taking forever to be delivered. You caught us off guard by being so aware, so beautiful, so wise. From the moment you arrived, your eyes told your story. They were wide and bright, inquisitive and alert. They knew too much. They knew you had a short time. When I look back at your pictures, so very few of them, your eyes are always open. I see wisdom and love and know that you lived the life you were meant to live. It wasn’t to be a long life,…

  • Charlie,  Listen To Your Mother,  Sad Stuff,  Writer

    LTYM 2014: A Mother’s Heart

    On April 26, 2014, at the very first Listen To Your Mother: Atlanta, I read these words. I should tell you to bring tissues. It had been a rough week around here between me and the 9 year old. My husband had been traveling a lot and work had been stressful. Henry and I had butted heads, talked back to each other, and raised our voices way too many times. It wasn’t pretty, y’all. I’m ashamed to say, I had yelled more than I should. I’m sad that Henry had said “I hate you” more than he ever should. I know he didn’t mean it, but he said it. He…