161
Apr 19, 2019
Rain dots the windshield. Soft new light scatters over the sticky pollen haze, glistening through the baptismal weather. We pull into the parking lot at school, where kids and teachers already work in community, industriously rolling wheelbarrows and large, wheeled trash cans, plunging shovels and rakes into mountains of mulch. They pause to acknowledge us […]
162
Apr 5, 2019
“I’m gonna cry,” Riley says, just as her voice begins to break. A bewildered sigh escapes, and she absently touches her own cheek, as though to catch tears that haven’t yet dripped. She has just begun to tell our small group what happened to her, about the seizure that took her from school to the […]
163
Mar 22, 2019
Just home in the afternoon, her cheeks sun-warm, Riley pauses in front of me. She smells of tree bark and budding flowers, of grass crushed underfoot, even though as far as I know she’s only just walked from the car to the door. She brings the whole world through our front door, and with it […]
164
Mar 8, 2019
At the end of a day that feels like two, Riley greets us laughing, bouncing can’t wait on her heels. She can barely get out the words. “While you guys were gone, Adam told Alexa to add seahorse to the shopping list.” Catching the story from somewhere upstairs, Adam runs down now, his feet beating […]
165
Mar 1, 2019
In the late afternoon, we sit and sip coffee from steaming cups, two friends with a wealth of life between us and crinkles at the corners of our eyes. We toss aside our phones, with all their connection that disconnects, and wrap our fingers around warm mugs. I brewed the coffee and she showed up […]
166
Feb 22, 2019
I see them in Riley’s closet when I open it to get her shoes, that stack of crowns in every style–gold and silver, jeweled and plain, some with ribbons, some with combs, some with adjustable bands. The stack teeters, a proud tower of hats, trying to blend with the rows of walked-in shoes, the every […]
167
Jan 25, 2019
Riley walks in carrying her hairbrush in one hand. She’s still in pajamas–soft black, printed with dozens of unblinking owls keeping watch. Her plump, bare feet lightly thwick against the linoleum. She finds me half-together, though to say that can be misleading, since I am never really all put together. Every morning I dress in […]
168
Jan 11, 2019
From my bedroom, where I stand folding clothes, pressing my mama hands flat against warm shirts, smoothing out the lines, I can hear Zoe laughing. That laugh of hers, it’s like the wings of a thousand birds flying free. Her door is closed, but I know that when I tap my fingers against it; when […]
169
Jan 4, 2019
I admit it: I don’t want to go. Here I sit at my computer, working, checking things off of my list. More, I strike them through with satisfaction. Those lines, they could be the slashed out edges of me, the angles of my shoulders, the sharp bones of my cheeks. Sometimes I mark my identity […]
170
Dec 28, 2018
Christmas Steve began years ago, merely a quip in response to Riley’s running Advent countdown. “Just 8 more days until Christmas,” she will say, standing at attention beside the white board, holding her dry erase marker like a wand, shaking it in the air for emphasis. Riley considers calendar-keeping critical to her sanity, and at […]