Sandy Jorgenson

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Griping about adulting is a fun thing that we like to do, I know.

...[O]ur very responsibility is to equip them with everything they need before we shove them out of the nest and watch their wings spread far and wide... But what, then, is left for us?

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Life is hard work, and I think we all know this with varying degrees of certainty. It’s grueling, it’s relentless, it’s at times unforgiving, and it is always a damn hustle. So if you want a piece of coffee cake, get that cake, girl.

Everybody who’s a parent can attest to the fact that the lives they once knew are far behind them.

Two years ago, I had a two-year-old daughter who’d never met her grandfather.

Sitting now on the cusp of my 35th birthday, I find myself taking stock of my life thus far, shoving my youth under a microscope while I ask myself this one thing: Am I careening full-tilt toward my final days on this earth, or am I only just getting started here?

Death, we know because it’s drilled into us from an early age, is a natural part of life.