191May 1, 2015
He’s in a thousand tiny things: Â the way one strand of Riley’s hair falls unevenly across her forehead, the rich sound of Zoe’s laughter—and mine—over song lyrics she misinterprets, the faintest hint of flowers on the breeze when I open the back door and walk across the porch. Â The bird feeders, empty, swing ever so […]
192Mar 20, 2015
For a moment, just breathe. Morning run under bluest skies, and the warmth of the sun splits apart the crisp, cool evidence of a night safely passed. Â The trees, red and swollen, change the tone of the landscape, pregnant now with possibility. Â Spring comes suddenly, like a first breath, a startled gasp exhaled as relief; […]
193Mar 13, 2015
This morning, I finally open the box.  The lid slides free with a sigh, the satisfying thwump of gift opened, gift held, gift counted. Riley gave me a white hyacinth bulb for Christmas, seed of promise in a rooting vase the color of water.  I hold the bulb in my palm, cupping my hand around its teardrop shape, […]
194Mar 6, 2015
Zoe grabs my hand before I turn. “Wait.” We stand on the threshold looking out at the world.  Clouds wrap thick, dove-gray over the warmth of the sky, until all sight takes on a stormy cast.  Winter lingers, and I want to reach out and touch the knobby buds on the branches of the tree in […]
195Feb 27, 2015
Snow falls, and the gathering white arrests our attention.  Somewhere between bacon sizzling and deftly wacking the eggs against the clear bowl with the tiny chip just there, my phone rings.  An automated message from the school system.  The voice comes through just a little too loud, and I lift my coffee cup (poured steamy the second […]
196Jan 9, 2015
Afternoon, and noting the time, we drop the things in our hands, gathering and folding into the car. Â We turn corners and lift our hands, flat shields against the blinding sun, mutually complaining about the sight-stealing while we give thanks for the warmth, huddling into our seats. Â You cannot see my face, for no one […]
197Dec 19, 2014
In the moonlight, her eyes sparkle. Â She never wears makeup, doesn’t really even prefer it, but she made a concession tonight, for dance. Â Just now, as we leave the building, a brisk wind lifts a few errant strands of hair away from her ears. Â The stars rest glittery on her cheeks. I hold the door, […]
198Nov 28, 2014
We will travel a long way to be with family. Dark as pitch in the pouring rain, lights reflecting on the wet road, and our kids settle in with pillows and blankets—two wide-eyed; one quickly asleep again. Â I grip a tumbler full of coffee–black and murky like the night sky–in my chilled hands, preparing myself […]
199Nov 7, 2014
Early morning and the coffee steams.  I wrap my fingers tightly over ceramic, breathing in the morning, stopping hungrily beside a window to gather up the light breaking in the sky, the emerging lines of trees, the faint colors of gold and orange and emerald. I feel desperate for a few moments of quiet waking. “NO, […]
200Oct 31, 2014
In the morning, on the way to school, this is His nudge for me: You need to touch your daughter.  So I reach over and take one of her hands in one of mine, steering the car with the other.  Zoe doesn’t look at me, but she squeezes gently, running her thumb back and forth […]