GIRL DREW
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Can you buy happiness?
I’ve been thinking about things lately. And I don’t mean “things” in an abstract sense. I’ve been thinking about tangible objects—primarily items that we purchase and make ours. One Christmas long ago, my then-boyfriend was excited for me to open my gift. I gently unwrapped the box and lifted the lid. As I peeked under…
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Means vs. Ends
I never regret taking time out of my day to write. Still, most days, I have to convince myself to do it. I don’t know exactly why I feel this way. Maybe it’s that writing is difficult. Or that I’m not sure what I might unearth while writing. Or that I fear I’ll fail in…
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Thinking Face
Today, to procrastinate on writing, I started browsing files on my computer. I stumbled upon a folder called “Ramón Headshots.” As I clicked through the series of photos, I felt a fullness in my chest—the good kind that results from a hearty dose of gratitude. This image specifically caught my eye because it perfectly captures…
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Just the SweeTARTS
I always look forward to Valentine’s Day for obvious reasons: CANDY. And specifically SweeTARTS Hearts, which I rank among my favorite holiday-specific candies. Yes, that is how you spell SweeTARTS. And please note SweeTARTS Hearts are not the same as sugary conversation hearts. Big difference, folks. I take my candy seriously.
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Massage musings
A few weeks ago, as I drove to get a massage, I rehearsed what I’d tell the massage therapist. I knew I wanted the full sixty minutes devoted to my back and shoulders—no need for any of that limb nonsense. I was ready to articulate my wants and design the massage of my dreams.
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Twenty Twenty Thrive
I’ve historically been the goal-setting type, excited about the fresh feeling of a new year. But as we welcome 2025, I don’t feel my usual level of enthusiasm. I’d typically read too much into that, trying to dissect the “why,” but I’ve decided to instead use one of my least favorite phrases: it is what…
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-thirteen and nine-
Thirteen years ago today, I went on my first date with Ramón. And nine years ago, we got married. Often, on special days like today, I marvel at how grief continues to warp my sense of time.
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Leg lamentations
“Recovery will take between four and six months,” the surgeon said as I lay in the hospital bed, cast up to my thigh. At first this overwhelmed me, but I remembered I’d always been a quick learner. In school, I easily picked up on new concepts—somewhat annoyingly ahead of the curve. But I neglected to…
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“I love you, but…”
About a decade ago, I was standing on the beach with a couple of my uncles, enjoying the perfect balance of sunshine and breeze. As water pooled around our feet, somehow the not-relaxing topic of politics came up. In a moment of boldness, fueled by alcohol, I posed a somewhat inflammatory question: “Does it bother…
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This mourning
Every now and then I submit to a literary publication just to see what happens. And I almost always I get a rejection letter sometime in the next two weeks or ten months. After receiving this week’s rejection, I thought, Hey, I kinda liked that piece. So their loss is … my blog’s gain? I…
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Default setting: Compassion
You’ve probably heard the term “invisible disease,” and it means exactly what you think. Cystic fibrosis (CF), for example, is an invisible disease since it’s not perceptible with the eyes alone. People might hear me cough and wonder if I’m sick. They might see me take pills before I eat. But none of these things…
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Just July
Last week, on the first of July, my neighbor Tracy surprised me with this vase of flowers. With it was a handwritten note praising my ability to find joy in June—and encouraging others to #BeMoreLikeDrew. Her kindness made me smile, and I considered whether I should label July in some way. Genial July? Jovial July?…
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Joyful June: I Broke Myself
As May drew to an end, I decided I wanted to approach June with a different perspective. Having become increasingly bogged down by the ins and outs of daily life, I liked the thought of making a conscious effort to look for the joy that exists in each day. And, if I had trouble finding…
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A Graduation Speech Do-Over
On a balmy Georgia night twenty years ago, I stood behind a podium on the temporary stage erected on my high school’s football field. Wearing a purple robe and mortarboard, my dyed-platinum-blonde hair in beachy waves, I looked out at the faces of about 350 classmates. And I confidently delivered what I believed to be…
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Happy Birthday, Dirty Ramón
Today I feel your presence in the rustling leaves and chirping birds. I taste your appreciation in the Blizzard I got in honor of your birthday. I see you in our dogs’ eyes as they pierce my soul. I channel your patience when one of said dogs pees on the floor—simply saying, “I’m sorry I…