111Apr 2, 2021
This morning, I feel the outer crumbling, how slowly I waste away–not me, but the shell of me; the me you would recognize; the me you could touch, at least while we’re here. A cellular avalanche starts the moment our bodies begin to breathe; but breathe God and the opposite happens too. The resurrected body, […]
112Mar 19, 2021
Early, while the sky’s still grey, Riley comes downstairs, slowly, like always. From my chair in the living room, from the place where I sit still dark and curled, I can hear the fall of her feet. Her knees crack, an inherited weakness, as she plants herself on each step, and for a moment I […]
113Jan 15, 2021
Frosty morning, and I sit by the fire still sleepy, wrapped cozy and soft, protectively sheltered like some valuable thing. I want to call this a deception, the layered swaddling of cushioning warmth–not just the clothing, the blanket, the velvety socks on my feet but the tissue, the skin, as though admitting my soul deep […]
114Dec 11, 2020
The kitchen smells savory-rich, of comfort and warmth and vacation, of salty, sizzling bacon, slowly melting butter, and just lightly, of syrup. This morning, we cook up breakfast sandwiches assembly-line style, sipping coffee and talking, our voices rising and falling among the clatter of plates and pans. Here and there, a chuckle, a yawn, a […]
115Oct 23, 2020
Upstairs, I fill a basket with the things Riley will need after her shower–hairbrush, deodorant, pajamas. I tap my fingers on plastic, rub them against soft fabric, ticking off items by touch. I consider the warmth of the night air, how Riley turns on the fan even when it’s cool, how particular she will be […]
116Sep 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 […]
117Aug 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 […]
118Aug 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 […]
119Jul 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 […]
120Jun 12, 2020
I walk through the front room and find Riley and Josh hanging out on Zoom. I see Josh in profile on the screen, sitting sideways as though he’s right beside her; I can’t tell if he’s watching TV or playing a game on his phone. Riley bends over the table, riffling her fingers through a […]