Blog

My husband Phillip died in a tragic accident. I woke up the next morning, and felt certain that I had been dreaming. With my eyes closed, I slid my hand across to Phil’s side of the bed, and felt the cold sheets where his...

Home is where you hang your heart, not only your hat. When Phil died, the four walls of my home became both a refuge and a prison. I hated going out; I hated staying in.  The outside world was too bright. I felt blinded...

As a young woman entering into adulthood with lofty goals, sterling ideals, and great hope for the future I could have easily created a long list of my personal beliefs. This list would have included ideas about both the tangible and the intangible; broad...