351
Mar 31, 2017
I can hear him beside me and his voice is reverently light, soft and piercing. But the thing is: Adam never just sings. He worships. We sit beneath the trees when the sun is soft and dying. A breeze blows through–a Spirit-wind, and I hear him quietly crooning, oh the grace reaching out for me. We’re […]
352
Feb 3, 2017
She says it like it’s a thing you have to say to feel good about the day: Alright then, so I am pre-pared to be amazed. Her voice falls heavily on the two most important words in the sentence, prepared and amazed, and of course, she draws my attention. I roll back from my desk and turn, […]
353
Jan 20, 2017
“I didn’t even realize he was wearing his sweatpants,” I say to my friend, gesturing with one finger toward my son, over to the back of the auditorium where Adam now paces, ankles showing blank below lanky black, just above those bruised-up tennis shoes he likes. I’m not even sure that the elastic on the […]
354
Dec 23, 2016
I don’t know how we accomplish anything without each other. The day drifts away and we fall into order at the table, stamps and labels and letters in thick stacks in front of us, ropey veins like roots—more pronounced by the passing of years—rising from the backs of our moving hands. You’d know we belonged […]
355
Dec 9, 2016
In like a breeze after school they come, swift and rattling the edges of things, scattering papers and shoes and the crumpled wrappers from their lunches. Riley’s cheeks bloom pink with the exhilaration of arrival, as though they’ve been far away and flying and have only just landed home, in from some place now only […]
356
Dec 2, 2016
They are inside the gas station maybe 5 minutes. The girls and I wander in while father and son linger at the pump, and then they follow us in, more efficient, by far, than we. Early morning, and ours is the only vehicle left at at least eight nozzles, though the three dusty spaces beside […]
357
Oct 14, 2016
My phone vibrates against the bar top, suddenly shaking the metal tray beside with a vibrant zing. Sighing, I reach for my coffee mug, slowly inhaling the drifting steam. Too early. But our peaks and valleys do reverberate, contagiously. I lift the phone, reluctantly scanning the notifications. Hurricane could come our way, and just the […]
358
Sep 16, 2016
“I love you.” He says it slowly, the way he says everything, but lifting the word you, as if in emphasis. It’s not enough just to fling the words into the air above her head and walk away. He knows this. Purposefulness has been a recent goal. So instead, Adam bends his lean frame toward the […]
359
Jul 29, 2016
Show time, and my friend’s four year-old daughter refuses to sing. From where I sit some rows back from the stage, I have the perfect view of her eyes—wide, expressive, and determined; dark pools surrounded by sweetness. She frowns, one of those grimaces that betrays an effort to remain fierce and resolute, shaking her head […]
360
Jul 22, 2016
When Loggerhead turtles hatch, they are the same color as the sand. We have to lean down to see, after a friendly woman—a stranger wearing a pink baseball cap and salt-smeared eyeglasses—beckons to us, backlit by the sunrise. Initially blind, we wonder what she could possibly have to show us in the middle of that broad stretch […]