Life with Religion, or without? And does it matter?

Growing up in a small village in the mountains of Austria, I was raised Roman Catholic. We went to church on Sunday, because everyone else went to church. My grandma carved a cross on the back of every freshly baked bread loaf before she cut into it, and we bend our heads down before we ate, to either quietly say grace or give others the time to do so.

Continue reading

Scar or Wound?

Cone of Shame Alternatives | PetMD

How we look at our scars is entirely up to us. We get hurt, and when we heal, what’s left is a mark -inside or outside. As many of you know, my husband had open-heart surgery just two years ago. Whenever I look at his naked chest I shudder and wish somehow I could have prevented it, but it only lasts for a few seconds, then I am grateful. He looks at his scar with joy. He was spared a heart attack and considers himself the luckiest man alive.

Continue reading