by Leisa A. Hammett | Jul 26, 2012 | Autism/Disability, Divorce, Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond, Motherhood, Spirituality
It was an eclectic bunch from around Middle Tennessee who clustered at the mammoth log-cabin-style retreat home of a friend's father. Those gathering on a sun-blessed November Thursday shared a common sense of spirituality and a potluck of earthy-homemade...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Jul 19, 2012 | Autism/Disability, Grief & Loss
We. Are. Everywhere. We are your children. We are your grandchildren. Your nieces and nephews. Your cousins. Your neighbors. Your co-workers' children. Your co-workers. The offspring of friends of your friends. Your spouse/significant other. Image source: The...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Jul 17, 2012 | Art, Autism/Disability, Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond, Motherhood, Spirituality
Do you know how important your voice is to the world? Every person has a story. Really. June 1, I was priviledged to join forces with Lacey Lyons, Belmont University adjunct English professor and Courtney Taylor Evans, of the Vanderbilt Kennedy Center to...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Jul 10, 2012 | Divorce, Grief & Loss, Spirituality
This morning I broke through. I broke through, at least, to another layer–a deeper layer. Of freedom. We talk in spiritual communities about the importance of forgiveness. In some conscious communities there is a belief that there is no need to forgive. That we...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Jul 6, 2012 | Art, Autism/Disability, Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond, Motherhood, Spirituality, Travel
Funny….Time, when in the midst of it, seems an eternity. Long gone, it is a fleeting memory. Summers past. Precious days. Years-on at a camp inclusion. Then: aged out. Now, 18. We have little such possibility. At the start of our journey, two...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Jun 21, 2012 | Autism/Disability, Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond, Motherhood
As I’m writing this, I’m sitting in the dentist’s office waiting room. Grace, my teen daughter with autism, has been called back. I’m listening to the mostly unintelligible moans turned screams of an elementary school-aged boy, who, at the glance I stole when he...
