81Jan 23, 2015
I walk in, and she sits alone on the third row—she, only here to be with; she, who forgets how to breathe when being means there’s just too much to absorb.  She has the courage of a lion, and most don’t even know.  A movie flashes large on the screen at the front of the room, but I […]
82Jan 16, 2015
“I understand sometimes she has a hard time, and I don’t mind.  I don’t.  You know?  I let things go.  I don’t make a big deal,“ she says quietly, sipping thoughtfully, sitting carefully across from me at a dot of a table. If we could but offer each other this, that we all make unintentional mistakes.Zoe jiggles […]
83Jan 9, 2015
Afternoon, and noting the time, we drop the things in our hands, gathering and folding into the car. Â We turn corners and lift our hands, flat shields against the blinding sun, mutually complaining about the sight-stealing while we give thanks for the warmth, huddling into our seats. Â You cannot see my face, for no one […]
84Dec 26, 2014
I weave my way through aisles, casually lifting trinkets in one hand, weighing their merit as stocking stuffers against the cost, yellow-highlighted on white stickers. Â We left home early to avoid the rush, the traffic, and scurried huddled through the icy mist to gather our gifts. Â We chuckle, in a jovial but deeply horrified, self-convicted […]
85Dec 19, 2014
In the moonlight, her eyes sparkle. Â She never wears makeup, doesn’t really even prefer it, but she made a concession tonight, for dance. Â Just now, as we leave the building, a brisk wind lifts a few errant strands of hair away from her ears. Â The stars rest glittery on her cheeks. I hold the door, […]
86Nov 14, 2014
It is the way she says it—all laced with delicious joy—that makes me stop.  She sounds the way I might were I to say I get to sleep in or I.can’t.believe I get to lay on the beach and just read—like she’s just realized a thrill, an unexpected and rare gift, and she savors the sweet taste.  […]
87Nov 7, 2014
Early morning and the coffee steams.  I wrap my fingers tightly over ceramic, breathing in the morning, stopping hungrily beside a window to gather up the light breaking in the sky, the emerging lines of trees, the faint colors of gold and orange and emerald. I feel desperate for a few moments of quiet waking. “NO, […]
88Oct 17, 2014
I don’t know how much time I have left. Â Afternoon, and autumn leaves wander and twist to the earth, fluttering through the grass and along the sidewalk. Â The sun makes a blaze of the trees. Â I stop for a moment just to see, putting down my work, stunned by the fragility of life. Â I […]
89Sep 26, 2014
Deep, empty night, and we brush our teeth, looking across at each other with eyes like moons. Â We both feel hollow-carved, like vulnerable husks reaching hungrily for rest. Â I have no thought except for the feel of the sheets beneath my legs. And then, a crash. Kevin and I look at each other briefly, asking […]
90Sep 12, 2014
Sometimes life strips us clean of words, and we sit together, quiet. Â And maybe it’s that way so we’ll stop to listen. We walk through the rain and into the funeral chapel, gathering damp hugs on our way through the door. Â We sit first, and then we stand, winding in long lines past photographs and […]