471Nov 13, 2015
She walks in just as I slide my weary bones down into the water, just as the steam curls up over my knees and I give thanks for simple pleasures I know full well that some do without—hot, clean water flowing by the gallons at the twist of a knob; sweet-smelling soap. Hi, she says […]
472Nov 6, 2015
She apologizes to Kevin like we autism mamas do, ignoring the sharp, slicing pain it brings just to say the words. I’m sorry, my daughter–she has autism. Â She doesn’t mean nothing by it. Â She says this gesturing over something Kevin barely noticed, a failure to say hello, a back turned, a little stumble over […]
473Oct 30, 2015
The look on his face is stern as we approach, as though he knows already that there’s something suspiciously wrong about us. Â I smile, because I’m pretty sure what he does must be tiring. He must have seen all kinds of things from that perch, watching the hundreds of us file through like worn mules […]
474Oct 23, 2015
In the crisp of morning, we wait for school, snatching glimpses toward the door.  Adam reaches for me, flicking my ear with his fingers, saying I love you in a way all his own.  He tilts his head away, his expression lost, crinkled and preoccupied.  I wonder if he contemplates the angle of the new light beaming […]
475Oct 16, 2015
The hour turns, and my friend waves me over, patting the chair beside. All evening, we have all only wanted to surround her, this iron-strong friend strong enough yet to admit that she needs us to lift her.  It takes a brave woman to allow the veil to fall—whisper-light—from her face, to sit uncovered and honest, to […]
476Oct 9, 2015
So many times this week I’ve whispered the words—running under stunning blue skies; exhaling beside grassy spaces where dewey spider webs glow like hundreds of silver threaded veils seemingly abandoned by impetuos ethereal brides; in the dying light of the afternoon, when the work still stretches, teasing at the edges of impossible. Â I say it […]
477Oct 2, 2015
I hear the door open, and with that sound comes the volume of her sadness, the distinct sound of brokenness.  Tears always steal her breath the way they still steal mine, and before I can see her I hear that awful gasp, the way she hungrily stuggles for air.  She cries with her whole body.  The […]
478Sep 25, 2015
Hello there! Good morning to you, he calls. Â He has a brightness I can feel before I see him, even though I realize as I look up that his gear—suit, helmet, even the bike—is all black, like the deepest part of the night. I’m suddenly aware that I’ve been staring at the pavement, while he […]
479Sep 18, 2015
Quiet in the kitchen, except for the sound of my fingers skooshing through flour and egg, sugar, spices; soft-thumping against the sides of the stainless bowl.  These cookies only come together by touch.  They resist the spoon.  Fall comes, and it smells of cinnamon and clove, candied ginger minced fine under the shiny, sharp edge of […]
480Sep 11, 2015
I love wide, open spaces, those places that could never be arm-measured, that overflow conceivable depth and stretch further than sight; spilling over, covering completely, unbound, unheld, uncaptured. So today, because I need reminders, God sends us in a different direction, turning left on a road instead of the usual right, and this just as I […]