The sky, like the soft skin of a plum, ripens from the bottom, hinting at some sweet, fleshy truth beyond its careful covering.  I rock back and forth in a rocker on the porch, relishing the chance to savor the change, wondering how it would be to peel back that top layer of rich cloud.  […]

On the other side of a migraine, my Riley begins to sing: From the ash I am born again Forever safe in the Savior’s hands I stop folding and let the warm towel fall from my fingers, listening. She missed worship today, let her head fall like a rock on my shoulder during the opening […]

After supper and all our lingering, we wander from the table on the porch like suddenly unmoored boats, drifting away beneath the glow of the twinkle lights.  Our conversation fades with a last few dropped notes above the drone of the cicadas and the clatter of silverware against our plates as we collect the remnants […]

In the balmy, breezy afternoon, as the wind chimes tinkle and bong and birds chirp at the feeders, we make time for listening.  We slide our chairs away from the table, gathering crumbs on our fingers, dropping them lightly on the crumpled napkins left discarded on our plates.  The hour smells of sun and mellowing […]

Riley walks in the door in the afternoon, backpack slung over one shoulder, conversation and friendship glowing warm on her cheeks.  It’s as though laughter rests on the tip of her tongue. “How was school?” I say, rising from the worn table where Zoe and I have been sipping coffee, where our meandering words have […]

In the morning, he puts a cup in my hands, french-pressed and steaming, the flavor deep, and I sip, letting the new day develop.  My chilled fingers begin to warm to the living ahead of me, living that surely overflows the banks and spills, splashing.  I crack the blinds and watch light overtake darkness, slowly, […]

At first, Riley can’t see. Bright Sunday morning, and we’re just inside the building where the church meets saying hello, a bunch of mismatched, layered-up family wearing reunion smiles, and I see her bending over her clipboard, too low, too close, one eye flat closed like a patch and the other just barely a slit.  […]

“What’s this?” she says, leaning into the doorway, that smile wide.  She wears blue eyeshadow, like tiny snatches of bright sky calling her eyes up. I explain that Riley and I are the proprietresses of the stocking stuffer room.  “Mmmhmm,” Riley chirps agreeably and the ball on her Santa hat bobs, while I guesture toward […]

In the kitchen, I scoop up the end of the day in my palm–the covered, sharp tip of an insulin needle we used for Adam; an alcohol swab, still evaporating that clean, astringent smell; paper-torn wrappers.  With the other hand, I lift an abandoned cup of water–probably the one Riley set down when she finished […]

The journal was a gift from my parents; the cover black, like pitch, like a blind dark day.  Butterflies explode from the corner, brilliant blue, buttery gold, every size, hundreds of them by surprise, overwhelming all that flat emptiness.  I run my fingers over the raised edges of their wings, feeling the fine lines, the […]