251
Oct 9, 2020
He doesn’t want to cut the bushes. “Please don’t cutting the bushes,” Adam says to me first thing when I walk in the kitchen on Saturday morning, bending low as though unless he’s close to my ear I might not hear, that voice of his deep and gentle. I glance at the white board where […]
252
Sep 4, 2020
Darting forward to plant a four of hearts and score another point, Riley’s hand hits mine with enough force to toss my hand aside and send my own card flying. The impact stings, but even more the grim fact that she doesn’t even notice. In the moment, Riley cares more about that point–and the next […]
253
Aug 21, 2020
Over coffee, Zoe tells us, lacing her fingers through the mug, how she plans to ask her sister to share a movie night, maybe go get snacks before. Zoe slips out to make her invitation, leaves me smiling the way we mamas do when our children love each other; leaves me thinking about how somewhere […]
254
Aug 14, 2020
Robert Frost would be proud: Every night Adam roams and roams for miles before he sleeps, up and down the same stretch of hall, his heavy tread pressing the carpet flat, beating out a path. Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk. In muffled pilgrimage, he travels overhead, across the living room ceiling and back […]
255
Aug 7, 2020
Weary fingers, mine, and tangled in her hair, weaving, weaving, weaving the wet strands in thick ropes down her back. For at least fifteen minutes every day, Riley and I become the reflection of generations of others before us–their angled arms, their busy fingers, their bodies bending, tending. Riley, still and waiting, tilts her face […]
256
Jul 31, 2020
Just before sinking into bed, I put my phone on the charger and I see: Adam’s blood sugar has skyrocketed so high his continuous glucose monitor has stopped reporting a number. HIGH it reads, caps-shouting, double arrows pointing up, up, still going up! though no alarm has sounded. “Adam’s blood sugar is high,” I say […]
257
Jul 24, 2020
When we get home from our trip, the package awaits, a kit Adam bought for Kevin’s birthday, a light-up speaker they can build together. Riley sits the box carefully at Kevin’s place at the dinner table so he can open it later, along with the rest of the mail that came while we were away. […]
258
Jul 17, 2020
“At least I’m doing something,” Zoe says, shadow-mumbling, making reckless half-spins in my office chair, turned to face Kevin and me, coffee mug cradled in her hands. “I mean, I’m trying.” I wait for a wave of hot coffee to crest and spill over the side of her mug, wait for it to drip from […]
259
Jul 10, 2020
In the morning, we friends gather on Zoom, collecting on a screen the way we once surrounded coffee shop tables, dropping handbags on the floor, dragging over extra chairs, only now new windows open into presence in front of us like blinking eyes, and here I sit at home with my wet-from-the-shower hair, and we […]
260
Jun 26, 2020
“So, how are you doing?” “You know how it is,” I say, standing on the front porch, squenching my bare toes against the rough concrete, six feet away from two friends who, like sisters, have loved me through years of scars and laughter. I have lines etched into my face from both the joy and […]