101Oct 9, 2020
He doesn’t want to cut the bushes. “Please don’t cutting the bushes,” Adam says to me first thing when I walk in the kitchen on Saturday morning, bending low as though unless he’s close to my ear I might not hear, that voice of his deep and gentle. I glance at the white board where […]
102Oct 2, 2020
Over the phone, I hear in Riley’s voice what I cannot see, the flush in her cheeks, the way she pushes imagined stray hairs away from her forehead, the way the tears spill and slide. Her words come out loud and rushing, like rapids overwhelming a dam. “Tell me what happened,” I say, wanting her […]
103Sep 25, 2020
I notice it in the morning on the way to school, the careful way Riley places her finger at the top left corner of her cell phone, straight pointing like a plumb line, the excruciatingly slow way she then drags her finger along the edge, as though it were a pen making an invisible outline […]
104Sep 18, 2020
Think about the places where you feel like you belong, the book urges, just like that, plain and simple on the page, and I think of my friends, who are reading this book with me, of their faces and our seasons of meeting together on a screen, of the wildly wonderful way God has assembled […]
105Sep 11, 2020
“I met a new friend today,” Riley says, and it’s the first thing she wants to tell me about her first day back at school, the first thing she gushes, beaming as she walks through the door and out of the thick August afternoon heat. “Oh yea?” “Mmmhmm,” she singsongs, dropping her book bag into […]
106Aug 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 […]
107Aug 14, 2020
Robert Frost would be proud: Every night Adam roams and roams for miles before he sleeps, up and down the same stretch of hall, his heavy tread pressing the carpet flat, beating out a path. Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk. In muffled pilgrimage, he travels overhead, across the living room ceiling and back […]
108Aug 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 […]
109Jul 31, 2020
Just before sinking into bed, I put my phone on the charger and I see: Adam’s blood sugar has skyrocketed so high his continuous glucose monitor has stopped reporting a number. HIGH it reads, caps-shouting, double arrows pointing up, up, still going up! though no alarm has sounded. “Adam’s blood sugar is high,” I say […]
110Jun 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 […]