261
Apr 26, 2019
Early morning and the world still new, I walk along the sidewalk, testing the breeze against my cheeks. I wonder if my skin glows, picking up the last gently fading hues of sunrise. On break from crawling traffic and from the hurry hurry usually right on my heels, I find joy in life less defined […]
262
Apr 19, 2019
Rain dots the windshield. Soft new light scatters over the sticky pollen haze, glistening through the baptismal weather. We pull into the parking lot at school, where kids and teachers already work in community, industriously rolling wheelbarrows and large, wheeled trash cans, plunging shovels and rakes into mountains of mulch. They pause to acknowledge us […]
263
Apr 12, 2019
I open the door to my war room–just enough so I can step in–and survey the damage. Extra lamps clutter the floor, making saucer-sized indentations in the carpet. The idea stings–that this would be the room where light sources go into storage. Boxes stuffed and consigned to donation sit against the wall, covering over the […]
264
Apr 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 […]
265
Mar 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 […]
266
Mar 22, 2019
Just home in the afternoon, her cheeks sun-warm, Riley pauses in front of me. She smells of tree bark and budding flowers, of grass crushed underfoot, even though as far as I know she’s only just walked from the car to the door. She brings the whole world through our front door, and with it […]
267
Mar 15, 2019
From where I lay, I can see only the rough, flat nap of the businesslike carpet and legs rising up out of tennis shoes I would not have noticed except for the change in perspective. The therapy table has a triangular cutout for my face; they have cushioned it with a sky blue towel. I […]
268
Mar 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 […]
269
Mar 1, 2019
In the late afternoon, we sit and sip coffee from steaming cups, two friends with a wealth of life between us and crinkles at the corners of our eyes. We toss aside our phones, with all their connection that disconnects, and wrap our fingers around warm mugs. I brewed the coffee and she showed up […]
270
Feb 22, 2019
I see them in Riley’s closet when I open it to get her shoes, that stack of crowns in every style–gold and silver, jeweled and plain, some with ribbons, some with combs, some with adjustable bands. The stack teeters, a proud tower of hats, trying to blend with the rows of walked-in shoes, the every […]