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Debra L. Freeberg

Essays

You Just Don’t Get It

“You just can’t understand.” It frustrated me when my daughter would tell me, “You just don’t get it. You can’t get it.” I remember the day that she was born. My daughter was 23 hours old when she was placed…
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Weekends with Maggie

Debra L. Freeberg Lutherans are not supposed to panic in public. I was trying not to. Maggie looked so good in February, I was sure she would stay in this holding pattern I'd concocted in my mind. She is so…
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The House on Larson Drive

For months I dreamt about the mottled orange brick ranch perched high atop a hill in suburban Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Though modest in size and humble in architecture, it had a spectacular view of the world around it. I wanted to…