451
Apr 14, 2017
We wind our way along Pier 60 just as the sun dips, melting gold right into the ocean. I stand a moment and just breathe, watching the way the waves rise, wind-shaped right out of the glass sea. The pier is a flurry of activity as the city gears up for a festival on the […]
452
Apr 7, 2017
We run in that space just before the sunlight bursts new born, obliterating darkness; in that space where apart from the faithfulness of day, we’d not expect the arrival of Light at all. This is the parenthesis between rain showers, the tar-dark, murky stillness before another downpour, somehow carved for us like a silent pause. […]
453
Mar 31, 2017
I can hear him beside me and his voice is reverently light, soft and piercing. But the thing is: Adam never just sings. He worships. We sit beneath the trees when the sun is soft and dying. A breeze blows through–a Spirit-wind, and I hear him quietly crooning, oh the grace reaching out for me. We’re […]
454
Mar 24, 2017
I find her note on my desk. It’s just a yellow sticky note written in ballpoint, but the print is her own. I can almost see her hand gripping the pen. That’s it, a small, blinding-bright effort to encourage, inspired by some of Ann Voskamp’s ideas for living given I’ve slapped up on our refrigerator door […]
455
Mar 17, 2017
Finally together at the end of the day, and the murmur of quiet activity is grace. Riley sits with her feet tucked under her at the bar, giggling over a word that twisted in her mouth when she said it, all those wispy, mussed hairs falling golden around her cheeks. Zoe saunters in on sock […]
456
Mar 10, 2017
A mile from school, Adam’s insulin pod starts beeping, that insistant chirp we once never imagined knowing—one two three, one two three–not an emergency yet, but a countdown to it, and just as the stress knot in my neck begins to ease. “Mom, Adam’s beeping,” Riley says, reporting, as though I can tune out the […]
457
Mar 3, 2017
Driving home at night in the sluicing rain, I can barely make out the thick white lines that mark our lane. Water arcs, pounding dull against the wheel wells, and Zoe says, “Go slow, Mom. We’re almost home.” Go slow. She’s right. It really is the only safe way through. Tonight, it seems easier to […]
458
Feb 24, 2017
I don’t know what she first thought when she saw those shoes, empty and waiting carefully, almost in anticipation just there in front of the chair, but I know she recognized them as her father’s. The knowledge that he would surely need them soon arrested her progress, stopped her cold in the middle of certain […]
459
Feb 17, 2017
In the waiting room, she reaches for my hand, lacing her long fingers through my own. She presses her palm flat against my palm until all the lines meet, intersecting for a stretch and then contradicting, all posts and crossbeams. Her moon eyes speak paragraphs over still lips, tightly drawn. They are imploring blue–those eyes, […]
460
Feb 10, 2017
On our way home. It was pretty rough. Eight words. I toss my phone down on the bed, sighing, and glance into the hallway at the window diagonal to my room. Close those blinds and Riley will wrap the cord in her elegant fingers and tug them open again. It’s something we share, this affection–a […]