251
Aug 11, 2017
We walk across a plank bridge, our feet thickly thumping, and a thin brown leaf drifts from the overhead canopy and twists down down in the breeze, grazing my arm. In tiny, hidden places, anticipated Autumn begins to set the woods on fire, just barely. We pause to admire a smoldering swatch of delicate […]
252
Jun 30, 2017
I have moments I collect like treasure–the moments I never thought I’d see, and this is one of them: I rush in late in the middle of a song and slide into a seat next to Kevin, picking up the melody, letting the words gather in my mind. What heights of love, what depths of […]
253
Jun 23, 2017
Sometimes reluctance drags at the edges of a smile like invisible weight. It feels as though the pudgy fingers of some ominous, unforgiving beast stick fat at the corners of the lips and pull down, pulling some rather not place, forcing a rather not feeling. Reluctance is a bully. It hauls you in the deep end and […]
254
Jun 16, 2017
He places the card in my hand, lightly fingering the rough fold, the paper blue like a storm in the middle of the afternoon or the ocean in places very deep. I look at the flat, incongruent edges and see fibers; wet, bruised pulp; dye on someone’s fingers. It’s remarkable to see the beginnings of […]
255
Jun 9, 2017
They sit waiting–my children and this party of their best friends, a huddled, cross-legged, patchwork group in costumes as vibrant and varied as they. Even with the house lights dim, I see the startling glint of silver sequins, a neon vest, leotards and athletic jerseys. I slip into a chair and just smile, holding my […]
256
May 19, 2017
For them, this was a game. For me, this was a lesson in trust. “So, see, what you want to do is collect four queens from the middle,” Zoe says, gesturing expansively toward the center of the table. “If you get the Rose Queen, that’s very good, because you can immediately draw an additional queen.” Adam […]
257
May 5, 2017
“What’s wrong?” I stand at the bottom of the stairs with one foot propped on the nearest step waiting for her answer, counting the bits of things–bright sock fuzz, some kind of crumb–caught in the nap of that foot-worn carpet. One more beat of silence and I’ll run up, one answer and I’ll bend down […]
258
Apr 21, 2017
I put a damp cloth in Adam’s hands and point toward the bathtub. “Go ahead, wipe it clean, now.” “We don’t have to clean the bathroom,” he says to me, because he doesn’t like scrubbing bathtubs any more than most of the rest of us. And that’s his new thing, as if life spins on […]
259
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 […]
260
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 […]