Fresh off a weekend with 11 dear friends, I am exhausted and my voice is still raw, but my soul is rejuvenated replenished.
Woven in among the glasses of wine and cocktails, the reading of US Weekly, the dancing and attempts at twerking, the eating and the far too many discussions about poop, there was also life at its grittiest.
We talked of relationships with spouses, friends, children and parents; of changing identities; of careers and lack thereof; of dreams left to be realized; of growing older and of growing wiser.
Not a single topic was left unturned, unanalyzed (some ...