21
May 3, 2024
“No Band-Aid. Not right now. I don’t like it,” Adam says, the ‘don’t’ coming across pointedly, as though Riley might otherwise misunderstand the rising volume, the sharp tone, in which he speaks. She kneels in front of him, her knees pressing into the floor, brassy hair swinging against bright cheeks, gently tugging at the heel […]
22
Apr 26, 2024
Lift me up The music erupts, like a cry, swelling suddenly in the dark. As if before I had no idea I had fallen asleep, I inhale on the crescendo, watching, watching the stage, feeling how the Breath—the ruach, expands and lifts me. In one way or another, we’re all looking for a good raising, […]
23
Apr 19, 2024
In the late afternoon on Maundy Thursday, I crash, feeling my own slow crumble as I curl into a corner of the couch and tentatively flex, cataloguing the cramps in my feet. Sometimes, as I consider the years stretching on and no end in sight to the needs in front of me, I feel a […]
24
Apr 5, 2024
All I ask, Riley sitting beside me at the bar in the kitchen for lunch, us with our bright-fresh salads, glint of forks, napkins folded in neat rectangles, is, do you want to say the prayer? Umm, that’s okay, she says, I’m good, and then, her voice wavers, and her eyes suddenly fill with tears. […]
25
Mar 29, 2024
Unraveling heavy things, my friend tells me a story about taking her kids to see the dinosaur exhibit at the museum. “In the beginning…” She doesn’t use those words, not exactly, but she might as well have, because right from the beginning it feels as though her story belongs to me too somehow, belongs to […]
26
Mar 1, 2024
“You with your hand rubbing your forehead,” my friend says to me, chuckling, the computer like a window fusing her home and mine, and us with our rumpled faces, talking quietly in the early morning, talking of life and how it’s hard. I do not, until the moment she says this, realize what I’ve been […]
27
Feb 23, 2024
“Have you changed your sheets recently?” I ask over lunch, just as Riley stabs at her salad with her fork, catching up a bit of lettuce, a brilliant coin of carrot. It’s true of us all: we can think no one knows where we’ve been, that no one knows we’ve walked right off course for […]
28
Feb 16, 2024
Adam shows up at the brunch table on Saturday morning wearing his glasses, a little smudged, because he’s still learning to clean them, and I treasure it up, because he has chosen to wear them on his day of rest. Here I am too, drawing my chair–blue, like a summer sky—up to our table, also […]
29
Feb 9, 2024
A friend says, the text coming in gently, it must be hard for you to let her just walk through that door. Yes, I type. Yes. I sit in the car, waiting while Riley digs her bookbag out of the trunk, talking to herself in a soothing, rhythmic way. She turns to look at me […]
30
Feb 2, 2024
When I get out of the car at the library, I see three children huddled together on the front lawn, their feet hidden in the dewy grass, their bodies turned, their eyes fixed on an old bottle-green minivan. Immediately, I feel a kind of kinship with them, recognizing my spiritual self somehow in the baby […]