Mary's Therapy Room wasn't a room at all. It was our backyard. No therapist ever sat there with me. There was no couch, nothing official about it at all. Just the deck, the open sky, and however many hours I needed on any given day. It was where I went to ground myself in nature the only kind of therapy available to me during the two years I spent in hospice, when my heart was failing and no one had an answer for how to fix it. I spent countless hours out there. Praying. Barg
17 hours ago2 min read
"If no one else was telling their story, then maybe I needed to tell mine. And maybe, just maybe, that would give others permission to share theirs too."
