Bread for Kristen

When I grieve, I bake bread. I wasn’t raised in a family that loved baking; the recipes I know, I learned from articles I found online. As such, I’m not really sure when I figured out the therapeutic role of making and kneading dough. But the last few years have put me through some hard

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Damn the Torpedoes: For Kristen

In the days after Ken’s diagnosis, I was awash with grief. I’m someone who is always trying to do things. So I did. I helped Ken cut up his food when his hands struggled to hold a knife; I tied his shoes for him when his fingers couldn’t grasp the laces; I made a map with

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