Today, Caleb Wilde is hosting me over at his place. That’s a fancy bloggy way to say, he’s got a piece of my writing up on his blog.

Caleb is a sixth generation funeral director. He helped me out with some details on My Mother’s Chamomile. 

I’m a little nervous, to be honest.

The piece is non-fiction. And it’s a vulnerable one. It’s about an evening that changed me. One of those creases between “Before” and “After”.

I’d love for you to go over and read it. I’m nervous to have you read it. It shows a lot of me. But I want to show you that part.

You can find that post on Confessions of a Funeral Director by clicking HERE.

If you’re new around these parts (if you found me through Caleb’s blog), feel free to poke around. Look in the medicine cabinet (or the archives). Make yourself at home. I’m glad you stopped by.


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