11
Dec 18, 2020
The tags on Riley’s packages begin at the bow and wrap around the side, a thin white stripe, carefully taped. She writes sentences, not only the typical to and from, and because of this, sticker tags won’t do. To the man who likes to relax in front of the TV who is named Opa Jones, […]
12
Dec 11, 2020
The kitchen smells savory-rich, of comfort and warmth and vacation, of salty, sizzling bacon, slowly melting butter, and just lightly, of syrup. This morning, we cook up breakfast sandwiches assembly-line style, sipping coffee and talking, our voices rising and falling among the clatter of plates and pans. Here and there, a chuckle, a yawn, a […]
13
Dec 4, 2020
Riley walks through the doorway after school, arms loaded with packages, her left hand stuffed with envelopes. Her eyes glitter above the haul, masked though she is by all the trappings of shipping. Her day-weary braid swings and bobs against the backpack on her back; flyaways fall against the rosy apples of her cheeks. “We’ve […]
14
Jan 4, 2019
I admit it: I don’t want to go. Here I sit at my computer, working, checking things off of my list. More, I strike them through with satisfaction. Those lines, they could be the slashed out edges of me, the angles of my shoulders, the sharp bones of my cheeks. Sometimes I mark my identity […]
15
Dec 28, 2018
Christmas Steve began years ago, merely a quip in response to Riley’s running Advent countdown. “Just 8 more days until Christmas,” she will say, standing at attention beside the white board, holding her dry erase marker like a wand, shaking it in the air for emphasis. Riley considers calendar-keeping critical to her sanity, and at […]
16
Dec 7, 2018
In the black stillness of morning, I groan, thrusting my toes out into the cold that has settled on the room. I have no choice but to get up, so I throw off the covers and slide out of bed, meandering around the Christmas tree to feel for the plug. Let there be light. I gaze […]
17
Dec 22, 2017
“What’s this?” she says, leaning into the doorway, that smile wide. She wears blue eyeshadow, like tiny snatches of bright sky calling her eyes up. I explain that Riley and I are the proprietresses of the stocking stuffer room. “Mmmhmm,” Riley chirps agreeably and the ball on her Santa hat bobs, while I guesture toward […]
18
Dec 15, 2017
In the picture, taken all-smiles just after the coronation, our Queen stands twinkling in her strappy, snowy dress. Somewhere else maybe she would not have been a royal, but here, we celebrate her, and with her the two kings by her side. The kingdom belongs to such as these (Mark 10:14), and if ever I’ve […]
19
Dec 8, 2017
“This isn’t a gift,” she says, passing the gift bag across the table. The bag is cool teal, like one of the stripes in her shirt. Except for the clear absence of tissue paper, it certainly looks like a gift. The twisted paper handles slide down her fingers as she extends her hand. “No, I […]
20
Dec 30, 2016
It’s hard to explain what it’s like, watching a child slowly connect, as though another sidelined piece of the puzzle has suddenly locked into place; it’s hard to describe the shape of that grin, the one that knows the sweet taste of grace, but here it is, for us: He sits cross-legged in the center […]