Hi, I’m Kara. I write about grieving, art and how God meets us at the crossroads.
I’m so glad you’re here.
My name is Kara McMahon Cross. I’m a former dancer and choreographer and retired from the performing arts to take care of three growing boys.
In the hardest season of my life, I became a caregiver, too. While my kids were in elementary and middle school, my mom and sister were dying together.
During those years, I began asking hard questions about how we’re meant to live through loss and suffering. Whatever held up—in books, in faith, in science, in art—I put in a file.
I took the name ‘sans birds’ from my sister, Lis. When she was sick, cards poured in from well-wishers. The ones with birds on the cover, though, she had a habit of tossing out. She wanted so badly to fly away—but she couldn’t.
The one she kept on her fridge said: If you’re going through hell keep going.
When I recently moved out of New York City, where I had lived for decades and raised my sons, the boxes holding that file found me again.
I decided to open them.
My plan is to share the best of what’s in there with you here.
Welcome, friends, to sans birds.
Why subscribe?
Join our growing community at sans birds of the discerning and curious. We crave truth and fact in the face of pain and suffering and seek out art and beauty in the face of life’s toughest mysteries. We yearn for a place (here!) where we admit the simple fact: people can’t fly. We’re in it for the long haul.
In short, when calamity comes, these are your friends who tacitly agree — no cards with birds.
Give us truth, we say.
Oh yeah. And love.
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Photos: Erin Wik
