gracevoice
Soft, rooted words that carry both kindness and conviction.
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Remembering Is to Live Again
What has been lived does not dissolve;it persists, asking to be remembered,tugging at my sleeve with borrowed sighs. Time, I have learned, does not proceed cleanly forward.It folds.It sneaks in. Some people want to outrun time.I sit with it.I ask… Continue reading
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The Place That Shows Up With Me
My perfect space isn’t something I build.It doesn’t have walls or windows or a door I need to close behind me. I can’t imagine waiting on a room or a piece of furniture in order to write, as if words,… Continue reading
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The One Who Sleeps Through The Waves
There are storms that roar in which I have no control, storms that roar like they have permission. Winds that arrive without warning, and my spirit asks quietly, “Lord… am I still safe?” But lately, I’ve been learning something in… Continue reading
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If You Could Not See Me
I watch the wind, not the rain.I am gentle but alert—the way a bird perches on a power line,still, but not unaware. You won’t know the color of my eyes,but you’ll feel them study you softly. If you could not… Continue reading
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“What Gets Better With Age? (Besides Cheese and Comebacks)”
They say wine gets better with age, oh and cheese too, but truthfully, I’ve never been that patient. What I do know is that I’ve aged like a cast-iron skillet—seasoned by time, strong as ever, and still able to cook… Continue reading
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“Retirement Isn’t Where I’m Going—It’s How I’ve Chosen to Stay”
I’ve asked myself how I wish to retire—and instantly found myself blinking at the question. And still… the answer does not come. The world, of course, had no hesitation.It offered a checklist.A finish line marked by dollar signs,pastel oceans,smiling stock-photo… Continue reading
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“Fuhgeddaboudit”
Because “Fuhgeddaboudit” can mean: incredible, impossible, forgiven, or final—because sometimes one word is enough to say it all, without saying too much. Let me explain. I’m behind the bar in a burgundy velvet dress, wiping down a shot glass that’s… Continue reading
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To Remember Is to Live Again
There are days when the past presses upon me not as sorrow, but as presence— as though memory itself is a second breath, quieter, but no less real. It is spoken in another language… “Recordar es volver a vivir.” To… Continue reading
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The Real Luxury? Time.
Ooooh, we’re playing “What’s your non-negotiable luxury?” Okay then—if we’re talking infamously irresistible indulgences, I’ve since left behind my childhood fountain drink days and entered velvet rope territory. For the record, I don’t crave silk robes. But if I were… Continue reading
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“Because some skills don’t get listed on a résumé”
What I’m Good At I’m good at forgetting people’s names.Not sure if that’s good or bad,but it’s something I’m good at—and honestly, you might just get a new name.Because who doesn’t enjoy a new name…and a good laugh? I’m… Continue reading
...The Rest Is His Story 