Knife taps against cutting board and the onion cries.  The delicate scarlet rings fall, hiding the slicing scars, all those crisscrossed lines like a haphazard tally of breaths.  If only the flavors–peppery and sun-soaked and honey-sweet–lasted as long as the evidence of our cooking.  A sigh slips as I turn my burning eyes away from the […]

We–I mean all of us–used to send more mail; we had baskets of pre-selected cards and special pens, pretty stamps and seals.  We even went to parties to learn how to emboss and bought accessories to make art deliverable by post.  Despite our busy lives, Stampin Up is still a thing.  I checked. Automatically, those […]

Anger and hurt, dancing like the steam curling mad over my coffee cup, propel me under until criticism rolls off my tongue.  The words have a metallic tang, as though I’ve bitten my lip.  I draw my knees up into the chair, wrapping my fingers around my bare feet, feeling the bones.  Zoe and I […]

It takes a hammer and a knife-sharp nail–a good, shuddering whack to the thick, fat beam, but it’s done.  I step back, admiring.  The sign, a small, artfully worn thing as black as night, says gather here.  I hang it on the porch, where it’s sweet, simple command rounds out a semi-circle of rocking chairs–one summer-sky […]

When we round the corner, she gets up from where she sits, pushing open the door.  I can see the cold, straight legs of a card table through a narrow opening; I can tell she has hair the color of straw, that she wears a rose-colored shirt.  Even before she stands in the doorway holding […]

Mid-morning and they wander out to me, rested and fresh from sleep, blanket lines on their high-boned cheeks.  Riley’s brassy hair swings out from her shoulders, lifted by the breeze, as she settles into the chair across from me, carrying her breakfast.  “Happy birthday, Mom Jones,” she says, while Zoe gently drops a present on […]

Kevin walks in the door and the afternoon rushes right in with him.  It’s as though the jostling traffic, the dying sun, and dozens of fading fragments of conversation cling to his shirt sleeves, his warm cheeks. They fall off his shoulders, these things, as the strap from his leather bag falls to the floor […]

Into the bowling alley I go, “Saturday me” with her yoga pants and her clean face and her Mr. Rogers jacket (yes, because I wear it around the house).  This is the me that’s only me, the honest introvert; the quiet, swallowed-up, zipped-up me just holding tight to God’s hand, walking through the parking lot.  […]

When I walk in the room, this is the other-worldly bit of heaven I see:  a room clogged with dancing royalty, crowns throbbing, faces glittered with joy.  It’s like throwing open a chest full of God’s glory and looking inside:  Confetti spins, pouring from the ceiling, from cannons beside the stage, where the word “SHINE” […]

She’s awake before we walk in the room this time, not wrapped in the usual cocoon of blankets, that defensive arm peaked over her eyes, those lips tight-sealed against words.  Instead, this morning she stands dressed, a question hanging in her eyes even though she asked us to wake her up, as though of course […]