331Dec 7, 2012
“DKA (diabetic ketoacidosis) is a medical emergency, and without treatment it can lead to death.” This truth makes me shudder as I kneel beside my son and scrub the leg of his jeans where he points, where some of the toxic sickness missed the bucket beside him and soiled his clothes. Sick Adam is strong, […]
332Nov 30, 2012
We walk in the museum as the day turns to shadow—my sister-friend and I and our bouncing scribble of children. Our group moves like an earthworm—fat and thick in the middle, undulating in a thin, crooked line in front and behind. We are multi-colored coats, scarves, boots and tennis shoes, wading into the snarl in […]
333Sep 28, 2012
Something about the way he broke that day reminded me that living is cross-shaped. “Adam has been crying for the last few hours,” she says to me, the aide instead of the teacher, walking carefully to my window as I park the car. “The last few hours?” Oh, how the living hurts, how it drives […]
334Sep 21, 2012
She sits, curled on my bed, the polish on her toes slightly chipped, and she reads, absently pushing an errant blonde wisp back from her forehead. I am struck by her beauty, the beauty of having her near. The reading has absorbed her, first her Bible, then the devotional book we gave her for her […]
335Sep 7, 2012
Clouds the deepest gray, hovering close, and I gather myself into the van to retrieve my children, preparing for the storm. It will rain soon, and hard. I can smell it. And I never have enough for this part of the day. Honestly, I laugh and sometimes cry whenever I hear that someone thinks I […]
336Aug 31, 2012
The waiting settles in—somewhere deep in my bones—laying a heavy hand against my eyes, clouding everything like the veil of early morning fog blanketing the horizon, obscuring the sharp lines of roof tops, cloaking the striving limbs of the trees. Two and a half hours at the doctor’s office, and I come home to dirty […]
337Aug 24, 2012
Five o’clock and the day gasping, my children hang on me like satellites in orbit. I stand at the sink, rubbing green beans between my fingers in a colander, the water rushing over, warm. For a breath—just one—I wonder about where these beans grew–what close field, the color of the soil, the smell. I wonder whose […]
338Aug 3, 2012
Sunday, she jams all of her money into a fish. Three dollar bills, 2 quarters, 5 pennies, 9 nickels, and one dime—I watch her push it all deep inside with two fingers, hurried, urgent. My mom gave her the change purse for just this purpose. That one dime lodges in the innards of the fish […]
339Jun 22, 2012
Saturday, we pile in the van to take Zoe to a friend’s house for the afternoon, and I switch on navigation on my phone. All the times Zoe’s been there to play, for birthday parties, and Kevin has always driven her. Before we pull out of the driveway, the digital female voice has repeated the […]
340Jun 8, 2012
It will look worse before it looks better. Spring cleaning in early summer (because it takes me weeks to find the sabbatical I’ve been chasing), and this I keep reminding myself while making dinner on a tiny slice of counter top in the kitchen. In the background, the collection of pitchers I pushed back to […]