1Jun 21, 2019
Before the sun, I’m up, roaming the kitchen. The vinyl tile faintly settles beneath my feet, lightly popping like my stiff knees, like that tight place in my neck. I gently twist, warming up for the day, turning toward the kettle spitting steam on the stove. The piping water gushes, splashing a little as I […]
2Mar 9, 2018
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 […]
3Sep 8, 2017
Clutching the mug–round, steaming, creamy-warm, in the snug space between twinkle lights and the gentle glow of dawn, I push back my chair, leaving the porch with its weathered slats and plump, happy cushions. Â The house feels still, dark, lightly chilled from the brisk morning. Â Just past a silhoutted wave to father and daughter on […]
4Dec 9, 2016
In like a breeze after school they come, swift and rattling the edges of things, scattering papers and shoes and the crumpled wrappers from their lunches. Â Riley’s cheeks bloom pink with the exhilaration of arrival, as though they’ve been far away and flying and have only just landed home, in from some place now only […]
5Aug 21, 2015
I walk in from my sweaty work, the pruning shears heavy in one gloved hand, the bottoms of my bare feet stinging with the heat of the sidewalk, the brick steps. Finally, I couldn’t watch the ruined blooms weigh the branches any longer, nor let them continue leaching away the sweet goodness the tiny, emergent […]
6Mar 8, 2013
Sunday afternoon sunlight dances through the curtains, playing across the table. Â Riley’s fingers tap against the computer keyboard. Â She sits with papers strewn—bubble maps for planning paragraphs, comparison notes, an interview answered via email. Â She stops periodically to move her finger across the page beside her, pausing to say, “Mom, I need help over here—with […]
7Jan 13, 2012
Do not believe that I have mastered contentment. I pursue it…ruthlessly. Â But just as I feel it graze my fingertips, it disappears, the butterfly I cannot catch, dancing just nearby. Do you struggle, like me? Â Blessed beyond what you can believe and yet still somehow allowing the ridiculous sigh from your lips? Â I count gifts, […]