11
Jun 28, 2024
It comes to me, the freedom in not needing to know, like the tickle of a wild wind on my emptied palms, when a friend asks what time our flight, Kevin’s and mine, leaves for Boston. We walk down a greenway trail, around a bend I’ve never seen, in a place I’ve never been, near […]
12
Nov 24, 2023
My friend steps in the house quietly, glancing toward the desk where Riley sits taking an online college course, slipping her arms around me to pull me into a hug. “It’s good to see you,” I say softly over her shoulder, thinking that there’s nothing quite like feeling your arms full of friendship. She draws […]
13
Oct 6, 2023
“Bible reading, Bible reading, Bible reading,” Adam calls out, his voice dry and deep, an early crackling that sounds a bit to my imagination like the feet of God walking in the Fall of His creation. “Bible reading, Bible reading, Bible reading, Bible reading, Bible reading.” Adam’s a bird—my grandma used to say that about […]
14
Jun 23, 2023
“I’m concerned about Adam’s schedule for the summer,” Riley says to me, folding her hands in front of her and digging one toe into the outdoor carpet on our back porch. The hinges of the door haven’t yet stopped screeching, and a great wind rustles the leaves of the trees, and I take a deep […]
15
Jun 16, 2023
At some moment toward the end of every sweet vacation–this time while cool, briny waters lick at my feet and the sun warms my bare shoulders; while I meander along and consider that the ocean looks both a clear, clean green in the rise of the waves and like quicksilver on the surface—I begin to […]
16
Jun 9, 2023
In our house, we have learned to keep time this way, in days since the last seizure, but this is not something we carry along, not at all like some battered suitcase stuffed with all our worries and dragged along behind, but rather something acknowledged and touched by our hands and burned in the pasture, […]
17
Apr 14, 2023
This four-lane road, the last main thoroughfare before Adam and I get to school, snakes about in hills and curves sometimes tightly compressed and sometimes stretched and rising. It’s a good analogy for life, this drive, for the way we all get pushed and pressed, the way a day can feel like a long, blind […]
18
Mar 10, 2023
In the new, pink light, Kevin and I set out on a run, past trees covered in bridal blossoms like lace trailing down, limbs cupping silken petals in shades of plum, and bushes tossing lemon-yellow blooms on the ground in front of them. It’s early yet, and Spring has sprung. I can tuck my head […]
19
Nov 18, 2022
From the sixteenth floor of The Carolinian, Kevin and I watch the sunrise. We sit on the balcony, sipping steamy coffee, gasping over the vastness of the sea, stunned by the silvery surface of the water reflecting the sky, threaded suddenly with amber and gold. The perspective up here on the balcony reminds us of […]
20
Aug 13, 2021
Kevin and I set out for our walk in the early morning, while the air is crisp and new light glows soft pink. We smile over the volume of the birds, how they chitter and squaw from fence post to power lines to the peaks of the trees, sentinels passing messages. We gesture and smile, […]