A friend asked me recently if I’m a hugger. We met post-pandemic, are new friends and are still in that stage where these little revelations are significant. “Yes!” I enthused. Followed by a pause. “Well, I think I am.” More pausing. “I suppose I’m a hugger more in theory than in practice now.” The pandemic... Continue Reading →
Grief is sneaky. And it can only be kept at bay for so long. Above all else, grief wants to be felt. To be dealt with. Grief wants you to sit right there in it. Some stupidly beautiful TikTok song that Jane played for me on our way to the Little Tart for a before-school... Continue Reading →
Krispy Kreme was a whim. I was ready to cocoon in my hotel room with a piece of writing that’s eluding me. Maybe, with no distractions, I could finally coax it out. I was really too full for a donut. I’d just eaten dinner, which featured thick steak fries, with a light brown crisp around... Continue Reading →
Today has an underwater quality. Like sitting on the bottom of the pool, cross-legged, watching the prisms of light bounce around, anchored by inertia and the bubbles cascading out of your lungs that kept you stationary, pinned in this world. The burn behind my eyes reminds me of those summers, too. The delicious thought of... Continue Reading →
I just wrote the shittiest first draft of the story (much of) my life is built around. How can something so near be so hard to pin down in words? But when the cursor blinked at me, a little mockingly, if I’m honest, I just kept pressing on, focusing on the tippity-tap of the keyboard... Continue Reading →
My focus landed wrong in this picture. That’s what taking a photo with my glasses on leads to: imperfect focus. I can’t see what’s on the screen. So I have no idea what I’m capturing. Just an image of what should be there. But then I thought, who is to say that bud there in... Continue Reading →
“Listen, whatever you see and love—that’s where you are.” Mary Oliver, Dog Songs: Poems For the past few days, Mary Oliver's poems have been my gift to myself each morning. With my coffee. Early, before everyone else gets up. Well, everyone except Delilah, who is up at soon as she hears me reach for the coffee... Continue Reading →
My 12 year old sent me shopping to buy her an outfit for her Valentine’s Day dance. This child has not let me dress her since she was 18 months old. This is a rare privilege, brought to me by a weekend full of (minor) illnesses that kept us (mostly) at home snuggled on the... Continue Reading →
In an exceptional display of undying love and infinite magnanimity, the soon-to-be 12 year old allowed me to play a Chicago song this morning on the drive to school. In an exceptional display of undying love and infinite magnanimity, the soon-to-be 12 year old allowed me to play a Chicago song this morning on the... Continue Reading →
Perimenopause can suck it. For real. I cannot be physically AND emotionally tired all the time. That just lacks practicality. And the hot flashes, blood flowing through my body like molten lava. So cliché. And distracting as hell. I sleep just fine. As long as I ingest a couple teaspoons of magnesium before bed. If... Continue Reading →
