Essays by Karen Anderson

A to-die-for brownie and a reflection on having too much.

On being effervescent.

My mother had a beautiful singing voice and majored in music at college, hoping to become a performer.

“When you’re taking care of loved ones, include yourself.”

A reflection on survival and joy, while glimpsing turtles on a log.

Here's the thing about lists: they fool me into thinking I’ve already done what I only wrote down.

A trip to the mechanic is a good reminder to not be self-conscious when, in reality, most people aren't paying that much attention to you.

I have a scar on my face, under my right cheek bone. Not very large, maybe an inch long. I never notice it because I’ve never seen my face without it.

On the value of having a friend to share life's travails (and joys).