Growing up, I feared the men in my world. My father, with his Marine Corps exactitude, forcing us to tuck in our shirts and our bed covers with the same brisk edges, governed our world with devastating outbursts. In the same heart that feared him, I held him as the ideal man: tall, dark, handsome,... Continue Reading →
I don't understand. I have a lot of friends who are devout Christians. Regular church goers. From them, I learned compassion, the need for reaching out in love, to recognize my own failings and to forgive others theirs. From them, I learned about devotion to family and to community, and I saw modeled what can... Continue Reading →
My husband is the sweetest guy you'll ever meet. And nobody but NOBODY tries as hard as he does to get things right. But damn it all if he isn't one of the most insecure cooks on the planet. In the kitchen, it's as if he's been stripped of all his powers, and is feeling... Continue Reading →
I don't often have the pang to go to church. My relationship with religion is rocky, an unrequited-love story that goes back to my adolescence. I stopped trying to get what I needed from church -- big "c" and small -- some years ago, but the impulse to crack open those dark doors still floats... Continue Reading →
Tim and I have an anniversary coming up. It's not one of the big milestones, but as we were calculating the years we've been married and the years we've been together as a couple, we realized we've been together almost 20 years. Okay, so we're four years short of 20 years. But I was hit... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 