It doesn’t follow a single theme because life never did. Some pieces were written quickly and aged into something better. Others were labored over and still might not be done with me. You’ll find reflections on aging, memory, loss, love (of many flavors), and the maddening hope that things still matter.
If you’ve ever talked to yourself while watching a sunset, muttered something profound to your dog, or found beauty in the last burnt piece of toast — this may be your kind of book.It won’t tell you how to live. It might nudge you to notice that you already are.