If you’ve found your way here through Puddle Stories, welcome.
People often ask what the puddle is. The truth is, it’s just a neighborhood retention pond in the middle of Iowa. Nothing particularly remarkable by most standards.
And yet, somehow, it has become one of the most meaningful places in my life.
Over the years, the puddle has introduced me to herons, geese, ducks, purple martins, neighbors, sunsets, storms, laughter, loss, and countless conversations that never would have happened otherwise. It has taught me that extraordinary things often hide inside ordinary places.
The stories I share here aren’t really about a body of water. They’re about community, connection, resilience, curiosity, grief, joy, nature, and the people who quietly make a difference in the lives around them.
A little about me…
I’m a death educator, story keeper, community builder, wife, mother, grandmother, neighbor, and lifelong collector of ordinary miracles. I spend much of my time helping people navigate conversations about grief, loss, legacy, advance care planning, and what matters most in life. Not because I have all the answers, but because I believe we are not meant to carry life’s hardest questions alone.
I also believe some of the most important conversations happen in driveways, around fire pits, beside hospital beds, over coffee, and occasionally while watching a goose wander through the backyard.
The corner of Maple Avenue and Lake Shore Drive has become a place where stories seem to gather. Some are funny. Some are heartbreaking. Some are reminders that life is far more fragile and beautiful than we often realize.
So if you’re new here, thank you for stopping by.
Pull up a chair. Watch the water. Meet the neighbors. Listen to the birds.
Every puddle has a story.
And if you’re willing to pay attention, sometimes the puddle tells us something about ourselves too.
Leave a Reply