411Jan 13, 2017
It really wasn’t until we turned into the neighborhood—5 minutes, maybe, from home–that the ice really made me nervous. An hour and a half away, we’d started to see a dusting, just bits of dazzling white in the grass; here and there, a glassy ditch or frozen puddle. If it’s like this here, Zoe murmured then, […]
412Jan 6, 2017
She gets up for me when it’s hard for her even to walk the length of the floor, and balancing on the one healing side, she hugs me, when I know it hurts to be touched the wrong way. I’m on the way home to a lot of doing she couldn’t now do if she’d […]
413Dec 30, 2016
It’s hard to explain what it’s like, watching a child slowly connect, as though another sidelined piece of the puzzle has suddenly locked into place; it’s hard to describe the shape of that grin, the one that knows the sweet taste of grace, but here it is, for us: He sits cross-legged in the center […]
414Dec 23, 2016
I don’t know how we accomplish anything without each other. The day drifts away and we fall into order at the table, stamps and labels and letters in thick stacks in front of us, ropey veins like roots—more pronounced by the passing of years—rising from the backs of our moving hands. You’d know we belonged […]
415Dec 16, 2016
“Breathe out,” she says, “and imagine that you’re breathing out through the bottoms of your feet.” It’s Christmas-crazy, and I need this. We’re sitting on the floor, a whole clotted bunch of us worn women. I feel them all around me; I can hear them breathing, the slow draw in, the release, but I can’t […]
416Dec 9, 2016
In like a breeze after school they come, swift and rattling the edges of things, scattering papers and shoes and the crumpled wrappers from their lunches. Riley’s cheeks bloom pink with the exhilaration of arrival, as though they’ve been far away and flying and have only just landed home, in from some place now only […]
417Dec 2, 2016
They are inside the gas station maybe 5 minutes. The girls and I wander in while father and son linger at the pump, and then they follow us in, more efficient, by far, than we. Early morning, and ours is the only vehicle left at at least eight nozzles, though the three dusty spaces beside […]
418Nov 25, 2016
The funny thing is that none of us remember the original prompt, now—it could have been outer space or video game or teeter totter, but we remember only purse, only the bizarre wrong thing it became when Adam gave up trying to guess. I’m not sure what it is about our human nature that we store up wrongs. But here […]
419Nov 18, 2016
I remember the year that opening gifts made my daughter weep. She stood in front of me, just there, tight blond curls falling haphazardly around her ears, belly pudging out the shirt of her Christmas pajamas, holding a silvery gift. At 3, she still didn’t understand our expectant faces, or even what made toys fun, […]
420Nov 11, 2016
From the basket, another sock. I smooth it a little with my fingers, examining the fabric for those holes in the heel, in the places that bear the brunt of our steps. I have my own gaping holes, I’m thinking, right in carefully hidden spaces, in brutally crushed places, smashed against the road. This sock–bleach […]