11Mar 19, 2021
Early, while the sky’s still grey, Riley comes downstairs, slowly, like always. From my chair in the living room, from the place where I sit still dark and curled, I can hear the fall of her feet. Her knees crack, an inherited weakness, as she plants herself on each step, and for a moment I […]
12Dec 13, 2019
In the garage, on the way in at the end of a bruised up day, Riley has another seizure. Kevin, coming around the other side of the car, sees her stop, notices her sudden silence. He calls her name, and she turns her head but can’t answer. Stuck, her head bobs, like something sinister has […]
13Sep 13, 2019
We sit, Kevin and I, on metal locker room benches dotted with holes, our bodies carefully sandwiched between a woman in a kerchief–silver-gray hair slipping out at the edges, and a herd of boys climbing over their mother. Mom smiles weakly when we say hello, studying the numbered slip in her fingers while one of […]
14Jul 19, 2019
My friend and I, we walk, and I tell her about Riley’s last seizure, the words tumbling from my mouth in a rush. The story’s only hours old; it happened the night before, so this is how I’m doing. My friend listens intently, nodding a little in encouragement when I look at her, gasping in […]
15Jul 5, 2019
“I don’t know what to say,” Riley says, something very likely often true, only now, while my knees carve moons in the carpet beside her bed, she feels vulnerable enough to admit it. I smooth Riley’s hair with my hand, playing with the tiny, curling strands about her ears, thinking that the only thing she […]
16May 24, 2019
Impatiently, I refresh the screen, tapping my foot, jiggling the mouse with my hand. Come on, come on, come on. A few days ago, I sent Riley’s doctor a message on the patient portal, a few questions about upcoming labs and potential patterns. Sometimes parenting a child with epilepsy, especially while adjusting meds, feels like […]
17Apr 5, 2019
“I’m gonna cry,” Riley says, just as her voice begins to break. A bewildered sigh escapes, and she absently touches her own cheek, as though to catch tears that haven’t yet dripped. She has just begun to tell our small group what happened to her, about the seizure that took her from school to the […]
18Mar 29, 2019
“I’m scared,” Riley says, tears brimming in her tired eyes. I can see angry capillaries traveling like tributaries from the corners; the ocean of her grief swallows them. I want to sweep her tears away; I want to take her hand and run away from this day, this place. “To get your blood drawn?” I […]
19Dec 21, 2018
Warm greetings in the name of our Savior, Jesus Christ, wishing you success in your labors. Elisa’s letter open in my hand, I walk into the kitchen, taking in the shape of things, the accumulation of emptied lunch boxes, the scattered crumbs from my children’s after school snacks. Elisa lives in poverty in Equador, the […]
20Nov 9, 2018
Rushing out of one appointment and late to another, I discover the text: Riley had a seizure. And in one second flat, I feel as though some vile bully just ran by and pushed me off my careful balance, and that even with my angry, road-scratched palms, I am somehow responsible for the world. Alone. […]