Why I Wrote Tattered & Mended

Such a labor of love … my passion project … proof day!

Today is preorder day.

That feels surreal to type.

Before I share links, bundles, signed editions, or special offerings … I want to begin at the beginning.

Because Tattered & Mended: Soulful Stories of Life, Love, and Legacy did not start as a product.

It started as a question.

What do we do with the things that hold memory?

Not the polished heirlooms. Not the china behind glass.

I mean the worn denim jacket tucked in the back of a closet.
The tie that still carries a faint trace of cologne.
The fabric from a muumuu.
The pin worn to a wedding.
The saddle bag promised years ago and rediscovered when the timing was right.

I have always been drawn to what is left behind.

Because what is left behind is rarely the end of the story.

Often, it is the beginning of becoming.

The Beauty of What Is Held

For years, I have taken what others might discard and turned it into something wearable, holdable, blessable.

Weathered belts became bracelets.
Spoons became jewelry.
Faded shorts became a crossbody bag.
Ties became a jacket.
Flowers from funerals were carefully dried and layered onto watercolor-washed handmade papers, placed behind glass, and accented with touches of gold.

Layer by layer, the memory settles. Nothing forced. Nothing pierced. Just gently held between light and time.

What I began to notice was this:

The transformation was never just about the object.

It was about the permission.

Permission to grieve.
Permission to remember.
Permission to continue becoming, even after loss.

Grief Is Not the End … It Is a Threshold

When Brian walked through his journey with ALS and eventually left this earthly life, I learned something I could never unlearn:

Love does not disappear when a body does.

It changes form.

It moves into memory.
Into ritual.
Into scent.
Into fabric.
Into the way we hold ourselves when we remember.

Years later, when my mother passed during the pandemic and I could not sit beside her in her final hours, that understanding deepened.

What do you do with that kind of absence?

You create.

You layer petals between glass.
You melt wax into vessels that glow.
You gather fragments and ask what they might become.

Because becoming does not stop when someone we love is gone.

In many ways, it intensifies.

Why Stories Matter

Each chapter in Tattered & Mended follows a woman who took something deeply personal and allowed it to become art.

An ornament made from a mother’s clothing.
Ties reimagined from a father’s wardrobe.
Paperweights preserving fragments of handwritten notes.
Dried flowers layered carefully into heirloom pieces that hold both fragility and light.

Layering is an act of trust. Each petal rests upon another, not stitched into place but allowed to belong. Grief, too, arrives this way. In layers. In transparency. In quiet weight. And when given space, it becomes something luminous rather than something heavy.

We live in a world that rushes grief. That expects resilience without ritual.

This book slows that down.

It says:
Your story is not an inconvenience.
Your memory is not clutter.
Your longing is not weakness.

It is part of who you are becoming.

The Why Beneath the Why

If I am honest, this book is also a love letter.

To my mother, who taught me to create with whatever was in reach.
To my father, who handed me that saddle bag with a grin that said history still matters.
To Brian, who taught me that presence is the greatest gift we can give.
To Jim, who has stood beside me through interviews, edits, and printing setbacks.
To every person who trusted me with their story.

And perhaps quietly, to myself.

Because writing this required courage.
It required patience.
It required trusting that I, too, am still becoming.

This is not just a coffee table book.

It is a record of what happens when women refuse to throw away what still holds love … and instead allow it to shape who they are next.

Why Preorder Matters

Today, as preorders open, you are not simply purchasing a book.

You are saying yes to preserving stories.
You are supporting art born from sustainability and reverence.
You are honoring the sacred work of becoming.

This first edition marks the beginning.

If this book speaks to you …
If you have ever kept something because letting it go felt like losing someone twice …
If you sense that grief and growth can live in the same space …

I would be honored to have you join me at the beginning of this journey.

Preorders are officially open today.

Thank you for witnessing this becoming with me.