Today is April 4.Holy Saturday.Yesterday was Good Friday, and I have been thinking. On Ash Wednesday, I wrote about dust. About how we are not as permanent as we think. I thought that was the lesson. I did not know what Lent would actually do to me. This year, I…
When the Ashes Fell
I went to Mass expecting the usual cross on my forehead. Instead, I got sprinkled with dust and confronted with a truth we all try to avoid. Ash Wednesday has a way of rearranging you.
DAY 5 — Three Goodbyes in Two Weeks
This morning, 14 days after Mama died, another guardian of our home took her leave. Her name was Nora.Born in April 2015 — a small dividend of Valentine’s Day, arriving weeks later in the form of a warm, wriggling life.A dormant German Shepherd mixed with something stronger, faster, wilder.A dog…
DAY 4 — Our Shield Is Gone
When my sister heard that Mama had died, the first thing she said was: “Our shield is gone.” It pierced me because we all knew exactly what she meant.Mama was never a shield made of iron or physical strength — she was a praying shield, a force, an intercessor, a…
DAY 3 — When Two Depart, but Not Away
There are some mornings that arrive with a weight you don’t expect, even when your heart is already tender from mourning. Today was one of them. Three days after my grandmother — Alice, the woman who prayed Heaven down into our home — died, her first son, my uncle Francis,…
DAY 2 — When Mama Told Me to Walk
I was in my freshman year at the university — technically “Year 2,” because I came in through Direct Entry after completing my diploma. That evening, I was drained. I had just finished my Law of Contract test — the unforgettable rite of passage for every second-year student. I was…
Day 1 – Where My Story Truly Begins
There are people who walk this earth quietly.And then there are those whose very presence alters the air around them.My grandmother belonged to the second kind.Not ordinary. Never ordinary. She moved through life with the certainty of someone heaven-trained.Her faith was not soft or polite —it was fierce, like a…
Baby Mama with the Crown
Not everyone trending is chosen. Not every baby mama is forgotten. Leah was loved last — but crowned first. Read this one if you’ve ever felt passed over.
The Boy in My Dream
That was how the boy in my dream looked at me with so much affection, I muttered, “there goes another stupid son of Adam.” But when he wouldn’t dare speak it, I respected him — not so stupid after all.
Confessions of a Prodigal Skirt Wearer
Me, I knew it, tested my limits, and I am here to say — I am the prodigal skirt wearer. Never again. Sometimes, the road to modesty is paved with inbuilt shorts, a mischievous breeze, and friends who love you enough to say, “Babes… cover small.”