341Oct 26, 2012
The day Fear lays my friend flat, pressing her back, her head on the hood of my car, the day her tears dot the pavement at our feet, Adam is the only one who knows what to do. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with what he lacks. Adam and I have a routine […]
342Oct 12, 2012
Adam had been talking about this trip for a week–father and son, side-by-side in a pick-up truck, on their way to the beach. To say that Adam has been talking about anything just makes me smile, because nothing sounds as sweet as his voice, nor does anything touch us quite like his earnest efforts to […]
343Sep 28, 2012
Something about the way he broke that day reminded me that living is cross-shaped. “Adam has been crying for the last few hours,” she says to me, the aide instead of the teacher, walking carefully to my window as I park the car. “The last few hours?” Oh, how the living hurts, how it drives […]
344Sep 21, 2012
She sits, curled on my bed, the polish on her toes slightly chipped, and she reads, absently pushing an errant blonde wisp back from her forehead. I am struck by her beauty, the beauty of having her near. The reading has absorbed her, first her Bible, then the devotional book we gave her for her […]
345Sep 7, 2012
Clouds the deepest gray, hovering close, and I gather myself into the van to retrieve my children, preparing for the storm. It will rain soon, and hard. I can smell it. And I never have enough for this part of the day. Honestly, I laugh and sometimes cry whenever I hear that someone thinks I […]
346Aug 31, 2012
The waiting settles in—somewhere deep in my bones—laying a heavy hand against my eyes, clouding everything like the veil of early morning fog blanketing the horizon, obscuring the sharp lines of roof tops, cloaking the striving limbs of the trees. Two and a half hours at the doctor’s office, and I come home to dirty […]
347Aug 17, 2012
It’s time. I glance at my watch and sigh, not ready to stand, not ready to gulp the last of my coffee and sit the mug by the sink, not ready to see Kevin off to work, not ready to help Adam brush his teeth. Not ready. Never quite ready. Upstairs, we stand in the […]
348Aug 10, 2012
In the worst moments, our Riley drifts away from us. She wanders somewhere deep and lonely, somewhere we can’t follow. It happens gradually, the going, the pulling away—a lost look in her eyes, the slow way she moves, the quiet we can feel. We reach for her, calling her name, and she murmurs, trying […]
349Jul 27, 2012
Adam has a crush on a beautiful little girl—the fine-boned, blue-eyed daughter of one of my best friends. They arrived at the beach on a Wednesday afternoon, and we stood on the front porch to receive them, wrapped in the thick heat and humidity of the island. The screen door snapped shut against the frame, […]
350Jul 13, 2012
Five o’clock on the beach, and the light falls soft and golden on our shoulders. It doesn’t escape me that on normal days, this hour finds me weary and pushing through, juggling homework and dinner and a thousand other things, counting the moments until I can sit down. Usually around five I can feel the […]