41Apr 17, 2020
Sometimes all I can see is what hurts, what’s hard, what I wish could be different. Before we even leave our driveway, Riley stops, setting her water bottle down, handing me the paper, her pen. She lifts her sunglasses, peers more closely at her phone. “It says license plate, so…” She talks to herself more […]
42Mar 27, 2020
In the late afternoon, while I stand in the kitchen strategizing, with ingredients for four different meals sizzling or simmering or slicing under the knife, with mixing bowls and crumb dotted small appliance parts gathering at the sink, I realize I have run out of spoons, and I don’t mean the kind I use for […]
43Nov 8, 2019
We crowd around the table–the casual, marked up table with the glitter from Zoe’s elementary school project melted into the finish, the one so in need of a renewal our paper plates have begun to stick. I’ve talked about refinishing it, imagining the dust thrown off with vigorous sanding, the feel of that gritty paper […]
44Oct 25, 2019
In the window, the orchid’s petals drop, crisp and thin, like elegant parchment cut-outs piling in drifts on the sill. Their rose hue has faded to ivory; they age like paper, but far more quickly. I cup my hand, sweeping in the soft, dead things, murmuring about the loss of another fragile life. “I wonder […]
45Oct 11, 2019
My hands lay open in my lap, palms turned up to receive whatever grace God loves to give, somewhere that should feel like home. I bend my head to rest, empty of expectation. This Sunday, round tables replace the rows. Today, we actually worship together; we actually commune. It feels like wandering into a sprawling […]
46Mar 8, 2019
At the end of a day that feels like two, Riley greets us laughing, bouncing can’t wait on her heels. She can barely get out the words. “While you guys were gone, Adam told Alexa to add seahorse to the shopping list.” Catching the story from somewhere upstairs, Adam runs down now, his feet beating […]
47Feb 15, 2019
About a mile out, the runner begins to hear the finish. When all he can see is still just road–that sunlit glint in the asphalt, those weather-worn and faded lines, the gravel and litter and patches of grass, the bib pinned to another runner’s shirt–he begins to hear first the music with its dull boom. […]
48Feb 8, 2019
Adam and I wait, car idling in the driveway, until Riley hurries out, shoes in hand, a pair of socks tucked in like a stowaway. The necklace she plans to wear dangles in the crook of one elbow, and she shivers, because I already brought her jacket out to the car. I admit it, I […]
49Sep 14, 2018
As long as I lay down and drink rivers of water, I can avoid the spinal headache, that thunderous, gripping madman storming through my mind bent on dropping me to my knees. It broods, heavy, hiding behind some banded muscle with its club lifted, daring me to move. This, then, is the valley. From here, […]
50Sep 7, 2018
Caught up in the morning whoosh, I rush to the car, balancing my bag, my water, my phone. I call out the usual things, looking forward but tossing the words behind me, a list of rapid-fire questions each beginning with “Do you have your….” Adam walks out close behind me, lightly slinging his backpack over […]