121
Mar 30, 2018
It’s one of those days with locked-up steel skies and a chill seeping into my skin; one of those days when time bruises our backs and driving to school feels like slowly untangling knots; one of those days when I wonder what caused all this mess but have no real hope for a sensible answer. It’s one […]
122
Mar 23, 2018
I settle the game in front of me, sliding off the lid. The box shudders audibly, a stuttering breath, as though the insides hold more substance than half a dozen glossy, tabbed sketch books, some dry erase markers, cards. Black smudges and half-erased lines fleck the books, memories of other game nights, memories of us, […]
123
Mar 16, 2018
Into the bowling alley I go, “Saturday me” with her yoga pants and her clean face and her Mr. Rogers jacket (yes, because I wear it around the house). This is the me that’s only me, the honest introvert; the quiet, swallowed-up, zipped-up me just holding tight to God’s hand, walking through the parking lot. […]
124
Mar 2, 2018
In the yard where the chainsaw growls, I can only see blooms, white like lace, gathered and falling everywhere, spilling onto the road. They’re cutting down that tree. I want to stop and gawk, to tilt my head and ask, Why would you? It’s a beautiful death. I’m stunned by the yard that looks like a […]
125
Feb 23, 2018
I walk and let things go, whispered things, all the heavy and daunting things pressed against my shoulders like so much Winter weight, damp and thick and flat grey; things that cannot be at all what they seem. This weather inspires every kind of ache; all day the clouds have swallowed us. And if this […]
126
Feb 16, 2018
When I walk in the room, this is the other-worldly bit of heaven I see: a room clogged with dancing royalty, crowns throbbing, faces glittered with joy. It’s like throwing open a chest full of God’s glory and looking inside: Confetti spins, pouring from the ceiling, from cannons beside the stage, where the word “SHINE” […]
127
Feb 9, 2018
“—Hey, are you listening to me?” I pause mid-sentence, asking because I know what it is for him to listen. I know the impossibility he faces, without the ability to deafen distractions. And I’m telling him what will be, things he’ll want to have heard, mental notes he’ll want to keep. “Yes,” he says softly, […]
128
Feb 2, 2018
“So tell me everything you would like to do this afternoon,” I say, pulling a capless pen from the chipped bisque mug on the desk, sliding a notepad in front of me. Pansies float around the edge of the paper. The impressions of Adam’s carb counts from breakfast dent the blank top page, making a […]
129
Jan 26, 2018
In the morning, he puts a cup in my hands, french-pressed and steaming, the flavor deep, and I sip, letting the new day develop. My chilled fingers begin to warm to the living ahead of me, living that surely overflows the banks and spills, splashing. I crack the blinds and watch light overtake darkness, slowly, […]
130
Jan 19, 2018
At first, Riley can’t see. Bright Sunday morning, and we’re just inside the building where the church meets saying hello, a bunch of mismatched, layered-up family wearing reunion smiles, and I see her bending over her clipboard, too low, too close, one eye flat closed like a patch and the other just barely a slit. […]