He presses the cross into my hands, a rugged, delicate thing he pulls from his pocket I don’t know how; it seems bigger than pocket-sized.  I run my thumb over the intricate carving on the stem and then let it rest on one palm so I can dip my fingertips into the tiny ravines.  I […]

On the field, a tangle of feet, tennis shoes slick with wet, flat grass, green-smeared on Converse white.  Some of the kids sprint, others twist and skitter, like wind-blown seeds.  It’s a game, a favorite: the prey try to make it across the field to grab up a bit of foam “food” in their fists, one […]

“Mrs. Henegar?  Mrs. Henegar!”  She calls to me from a stroll away, two picnic tables over, where she balances a fat bag of trail mix on her palm. I turn to look and with one finger, she pushes her glasses up on her nose, then digs ’round in the sack again.  Her fingers disappear beneath […]

Out of the corner of my eye, I see them kneeling in front of my son, knees pressed hard into the floor right there in front of the chair where Adam sits waiting for me, glancing at his watch.  I’m too far away to hear them, but I can tell that they’re talking to him, […]

I slide the last pin in place, just at the bottom of the glossy braid.  This one reminds me of a seashell, woven wide and spiraling low, bright at the top where the sun has turned her hair a tawny gold, like wheat.  She smiles and the light moves right into her face. “Thanks, Mom […]

She gets up for me when it’s hard for her even to walk the length of the floor, and balancing on the one healing side, she hugs me, when I know it hurts to be touched the wrong way.  I’m on the way home to a lot of doing she couldn’t now do if she’d […]

From the basket, another sock.  I smooth it a little with my fingers, examining the fabric for those holes in the heel, in the places that bear the brunt of our steps.  I have my own gaping holes, I’m thinking, right in carefully hidden spaces, in brutally crushed places, smashed against the road.  This sock–bleach […]

They cast a long shadow on the lawn, all legs, son in so many ways like his father.  It’s striking.  Nothing really prepares a mother for the moments when she looks at her children and sees something of the adults they’re becoming, the careful sculpting of the future.  No matter how broad those shoulders get, I […]

Evening at the beach, and I’m swaying in the porch swing, pushing my toes against the deck planks.  It’s too dark to see the ocean from where I sit, but I can just make out the faint, ever-changing lines of white caps, like fine, thin sketch marks adding dimension to shades of black and blue-gray. […]

My daughter is sixteen, so for her birthday we throw a big party at the building where our church meets.  And I receive this: a solid view of friendship. “Do you need help?” My friend asks, not in a maybe-I-can-do-a-few-things-if-it’s-convenient kind of way, but the way she always does, as though she’s already climbed up on that […]