Meet Monica Wright

For forty years, I worked as a speech-language pathologist and raised two sons with my husband, Jerry. Then, in retirement, everything changed. Jerry’s illness, and eventually his death, reshaped the life I had known.

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I first sensed the power of storytelling as I tried to capture his essence in his obituary. As I wrote, I began to feel him with me, nudging gently: Yes, tell them this. Don't forget that. In honoring Jerry's life, I found not only my voice, but the heart of a story that keeps unfolding.

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During Jerry's illness, I learned that speaking openly about death didn't diminish life. It made the time we had left feel more precious.

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At first, I felt called to write about mortality. Writing helped me relearn how to live with purpose. I began to think of it as my third act—a season for meaning-making and reflection. I wanted to be part of a culture that turned toward death rather than away from it and, in doing so, turned more fully toward life.

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As I’ve continued to age and to write, my curiosity has widened the lens. Now I follow it wherever it leads, exploring the cultural, technological, and civic shifts, the human stories, and the occasional absurdities that catch my eye.