Personal, relationships

talk.

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Driving through the sunlit, endearingly gritty streets of Tacoma yesterday evening, I chat with my friend Ben after what felt like a very long, very sad day. We were both hurting for different reasons. Me because of one of the many little deaths out of which life always returns, and he because of the ugliness he had encountered that day with his students.

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Personal, United States

Mills. April 24, 2013.

Glen & Amanda Miller's Wedding, 2012.

The heavy, unrelenting rain accompanied by the low rumble of thunder reminded me of a time not that long ago, but feels like years past.

My first week in Cambodia in the lush hills of Mondolkiri, I fell asleep reading, swathed in mosquito net in bungalows to the same constant growl and the familiar staccato sound of raindrops against the rooftop. Last night I listened to the rain, somewhat masked by the hum of my floor fan from inside my apartment and bundled in soft cotton. As I lay quietly listening to the nostalgic lullaby I thought of my closest friend, Brooke Miller.

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