I woke up to the news that my friend Craig has died. It was less than a month ago when his sister Teresa, also a dear friend, texted me to tell me that, after some investigation, they were blindsided by the news of a stage 4 cancer diagnosis. Teresa sent regular updates via CaringBridge of their journey through attempted treatment, and ultimately to hospice care to make him as comfortable as possible for his remaining days. I know that journey well and sent them all so much l

I don't often receive surprise packages in the mail. I can't say "never," but it's definitely a rarity. In late summer last year, I was treated to such an act of kindness when a box arrived at my doorstep. And what was inside the box blew me away. I wear my emotions on my sleeve--unapologetically--and when I opened it to find a note from my friend Susan saying, "Your essay inspired me to create something special for you," tear ducts burst open, releasing a briny stream down m

I used to sprint the two blocks to her house with the speed of an Olympic athlete—even if it was just to sit on the giant house-length front porch to wait for her to finish eating dinner. Then, once we were together, we were off for an adventure. And it was a different one every day. One without computers, tablets or smartphones. The only technology involved was the kind our imaginations could invent--far superior to anything Silicon Valley can offer today. I wrote about Caro

“So, tell me how you think the death of Curt Cobain will impact music,” a reporter asked me. I stared blankly. “Let me get the manager.” I mean, I knew he died, and it was tragic, but I didn't have a prepared statement for the media. I was only part-time. My early days in Chicago, where I moved on my own a couple of years after college, were filled with the kind of swirling chaos that made sense in your twenties. What also made sense was that in addition to my low-paying, ful

Looking back over my life, I realize I've always been someone who looks to find "my people," those who I feel organically connected to in some way--great or small. And those I've felt a great affinity for have been the people who have remained in my orbit--some close like the moon and others further out like Pluto (yes, Pluto!), only making their presence known once in a while--none greater or smaller than the other. I find value in both. After the great loss of my sweet Kall

Ronnie’s Angels l to r: Stephanie, Carol, Paige Growing up in the 80s was special. In many ways. It was special because we were forced to interact with other, decades before the age of the smartphone. There was no internet, no tablets, no 24/7 news cycle, no immediate gratification. I think of long summer days of being outside, exploring the nooks and crannies of my little farm town. Watching TV with a limited selection of channels. (And if you missed an episode, there as a g

I was sitting with Alfre Woodard and two of my closest friends, basking in the sun and each other’s company while we dined al fresco on the most gorgeous summer day imaginable. Well, kind of. The friend part is correct, but it was a rainy autumn day in Chicago. We could see the soggy cityscape from Baptiste and Bottle on the 20th floor of the Conrad Hotel. There was no literal sun that day. But the metaphorical sunshine was blinding. Oh, and Alfre was at a different table a