Speak Eagle


Faith to Say Goodbye

I scan my yellow rose bush for blooms that are past their peak.  Often, I pluck old blooms mindlessly, but today the task feels somehow wistful.  I pluck one, pressing the still-fragrant petals to my nose before dropping them onto the mulch. I hate saying goodbye.  Goodbye to something beautiful, something good. Three years ago […]

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As we say goodbye to October, we also say goodbye to Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  I am reminded of two years ago this fall when I wrote an essay as I anticipated a monumental event in my life.  I thought it fitting that I share it here and now.  It’s a little longer than my

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Farewell to Cookie

This morning,  my oldest son came running through the house to find me, eyes wide with worry.  “Cookie can’t walk anymore!”  I followed him into his room.  He pointed, “He’s just lying on his food dish!”  I reached inside the cage and felt the soft, black fur of the little hamster.  His heart was still beating,

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Sacred Community

Sirens blare and lights flash in our neighborhood outside my boys’ bedroom window, jolting me out of bedtime stories. I pull up the window to hear a woman wailing, wails that can only mean someone is experiencing something unthinkable. I bolt down the stairs, out the door, and up the street.  Is it Heather?  Melissa?  Ginny?

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Pink Party Power: Poured Into to Pour Out

As we bring another Breast Cancer Awareness month to a close, I’m remembering… Cindy. Seven years ago, just a few days before my scheduled preventative bilateral mastectomy, a woman I hardly knew named Cindy Kreidel threw me a “Pink Party.” Complete with encouraging gifts, delicious snacks, heartfelt prayers, and an unforgettable, side-splitting skit involving pairs

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The Petak Who Didn’t Want to Move to Colorado

There was one Petak who didn’t want to move to Colorado. He loved his home, his friends, his familiar hangouts, watching bluebirds every spring check out the houses for rent in the backyard. So, when the night came to load up the last of the riff-raff and pile in the car, he whined, even caterwauled. Heels dug in.

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Dinner in the Liberal Lion’s Den

“HATE HAS NO PLACE HERE,” their buttons blared from their jacket lapels as they stood at Kellie’s back door. I recoiled. Clearly, the liberal couple wore the buttons to make a statement against me, the conservative guest who voted for Trump, right? I resisted my gut instincts that told me to bolt and opened the

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