201Mar 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, […]
202Mar 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 […]
203Feb 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 […]
204Jan 9, 2015
Afternoon, and noting the time, we drop the things in our hands, gathering and folding into the car. 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. You cannot see my face, for no one […]
205Dec 19, 2014
In the moonlight, her eyes sparkle. She never wears makeup, doesn’t really even prefer it, but she made a concession tonight, for dance. Just now, as we leave the building, a brisk wind lifts a few errant strands of hair away from her ears. The stars rest glittery on her cheeks. I hold the door, […]
206Nov 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. I grip a tumbler full of coffee–black and murky like the night sky–in my chilled hands, preparing myself […]
207Nov 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, […]
208Oct 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 […]
209Oct 17, 2014
I don’t know how much time I have left. Afternoon, and autumn leaves wander and twist to the earth, fluttering through the grass and along the sidewalk. The sun makes a blaze of the trees. I stop for a moment just to see, putting down my work, stunned by the fragility of life. I […]
210Oct 3, 2014
This week, a departure for Kevin and me, a Sabbath rest: Tucked away, pulled back from the busy road and held–but lightly–by the trees, we hide beneath the fog. Sound is magnified here, somehow, or perhaps it is that other noise removed leaves room for hearing birdsong, the cheeky chatter of squirrels, the deep-throated gurgle […]