I stood staring at the Mother’s Day cards in Target, longing to buy one. However, my mother…my beautiful, bi-polar mother has been gone…gone for several years now.Read More
The night we put Jack down, despite being exhausted in every possible way, I didn't want to go to bed. And when I finally did, I laid awake for a long time, just staring around the dark bedroom, eyes wide open.Read More
When a love you've cherished for
A life time is suddenly no more,
How do you let go?
There are things you write about and things you don't. You take your trauma and turn it into narrative, metaphor, a neatly tied present to present to an audience. You turn your shit into gold. You turn the C-section of your dying child into a linear narrative. There was a dying child inside you, then there was a C-section.Read More
Stewie died almost a year ago when he was sixteen. Sadly, his life ended in suffering; he had kidney disease and all of our attempts to care for him, to make him comfortable, failed. He was skin and bones, and dragged himself from room to room. It was past time when my husband took him to the vet to be euthanized.Read More
There was once a man I needed to have be dead. I got as far away from him as I could get, and told myself that was far enough. Then time went by, years, and whenever he came into my mind, which was less and less over time, I told myself he was surely dead by now.
But last night as I was falling asleep, a voice said you don’t know. You don’t know for sure he’s not drinking a beer right now. People can live a surprisingly long time.Read More
My Daddy lived with me before he died. I didn’t write during that time. I wish I had known then about how healing it can be but knowing myself as I do now—somewhat petulant and always right, of course—I probably would’ve flung aside the idea that anything could help. Besides, when would I have had time to write? Puh-leeze! I was teaching full-time, I had a teenage daughter, my marriage was falling apart, my siblings were nowhere to be found, and I was fast approaching menopause.Read More
This morning my wife is visiting with her parents-which is fine with me, except that they're both dead. It's been four months since her dad passed away, some months more since her mom died. Now in the midst of combing through old photos and letters, the two of them have returned and could be staying with us the whole weekRead More
It's been four years since my husband departed this life. After
forty four years of marriage, and
Two adult children, I find myself on
My own, to fend for myself.
I dreamed of you my whole life. Every baby I ever held carried the thought of you. Every girlhood game, every dreamy drive alone. For years I have mapped your father’s face onto mine. You probably had his peaked, cow-licked hairline, and my nostrils visible in profile. Did the fingers you were building bend as far back as his? I will never, ever know.