281
Nov 2, 2018
From my office, I heard their voices, the soft, deep rumble of Father training son. “Do you still need Lantus?” Kevin asked Adam, who grunted over the forced pause. What is it about us that we resent the time it takes to grow? Lantus is to long-release insulin what Kleenex is to tissue, merely a […]
282
Oct 26, 2018
In the last gasp of day, Kevin and I wind our way along unknown streets, all squeaky springs and clacking chains. These bicycles are the picture-postcard kind, sherbet-colored, lemon and mint, with earthy baskets bobbing at the front. I imagine mine brimming with trailing flowers like they do in greeting card photographs, except that would […]
283
Oct 19, 2018
I hear her through the wall, the rhythmic way she flicks the light switch on off on off on off. “Okay. Okie dokie,” I hear her say. “Okay. Okie dokie. Okay, and yes, I the lights are off.” I hear the thwoosh of a tissue jerked from the tissue box so purposefully that the decorative acrylic cover […]
284
Oct 5, 2018
Saturday morning, Adam walks downstairs wearing his football jersey, which is blue like the crisp Fall sky, blue like his eyes. I say walk, but his steps have a certain bounce that matches his wide smile. Maybe autism steals away my son’s words, but Adam’s body has always found its own ways to convey what […]
285
Sep 28, 2018
I hear my son before I see him. I know by heart the specific sound of his long, flat feet on the hardwood floor at the base of the stairs; I know the circuitous, spinning route he takes from one room to another, checking for me, checking for signs that nothing unexpected has altered the […]
286
Sep 21, 2018
Just awake and still unwilling to peel back the covers, I rub the sleep from my eyes, giving thanks for rest. My phone, flipped on its face on the bedside table, begins to vibrate and jump like an insect trapped and beating against the window. “What is going on?” Kevin says, stirring beside me. I […]
287
Sep 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, […]
288
Sep 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 […]
289
Aug 31, 2018
When finally God begins to move me and I carry our quiet conversation back into busier thoroughfares, I find Adam emptying the dishwasher in the kitchen. He stacks plates and tosses clean silverware into the drawer with percussive clatter, and this with the morning barely an hour old. The coffee pot still gasps and sputters […]
290
Aug 24, 2018
The sky, like the soft skin of a plum, ripens from the bottom, hinting at some sweet, fleshy truth beyond its careful covering. I rock back and forth in a rocker on the porch, relishing the chance to savor the change, wondering how it would be to peel back that top layer of rich cloud. […]