When–at sixteen–you lie in a gown on a railed bed and labor to bring forth a life, the stakes are high. In between peaks on the monitor you notice the sideways glances of nurses. You can almost hear the judgements running through their heads–the disapproving sighs they stop just short of. When–at sixteen–you watch that… Continue reading Against all odds
Category: Faves
haunted
Home was an apartment on the first floor of his parents house. Our own separate entrance–keys and everything. A house from the Victorian era, its ghost stories left me unsettled. Always I felt the eyes of someone watching. Once I even heard the cries of a babe no one could explain. I was sixteen and… Continue reading haunted
Some things I remember
There are some things I remember about that day, and the days leading up to it. And then other things that time has worn away. I don’t remember waking up that morning. I wonder if my fingers stretched across the sheets to find his. I don’t remember curling into an ‘s’ next to him, my… Continue reading Some things I remember
Ever more
There was this one curve in the road, at least a quarter-mile long. The speed limit was lower on that length of the road, square yellow signs with arrows guiding you around. It was November and my baby girl was taped, tubed and bundled in the hospital I left behind. It was cold but bright. … Continue reading Ever more
through the cracks
Within the confines of these walls there live five who look to me–who depend on me. The weight of assurance they rest on my shoulders, as if by some irrevocable decree I am and I know and I can and I will. if not me, then who? There is no room for doubt here, in… Continue reading through the cracks
the teensiest pieces
Our caps were black. And our gowns, too. The only color to break up all that dark hung in the threaded teal lines of our tassels. And the chintzy gold ’94 emblems that hung like a proclamation alongside. It stung like a sham. That wasn’t my year. Those weren’t my people. Not even my school. … Continue reading the teensiest pieces
when hearts go walking
My oldest daughter, Torri, (then 17) got her license in October. Up to that point, I had been the one sitting next to her in the passenger seat as she “practiced” her driving. But then that flimsy little piece of plastic came along and deemed her capable of going it alone. And that she did. … Continue reading when hearts go walking
a different kind of tired
3612 Dayton Street. A town nobody could pronounce in a state known for it’s peaches and boiled peanuts and confederate die-hards. 30815. I lived in a house that backed up to a pine forest–trees bigger than I dared to dream. The three babies under my feet left me worn and weary with their squeaky but… Continue reading a different kind of tired
She Doesn’t Know
I was driving. My four-year-old, Jayce, was buckled into his booster behind me. “Mommy,” he said. “Why doesn’t Cassie know how to tie? I tie stuff all the time.” He does. Lengths of “rope” (scarves) are among his most valuable treasures. Should you ever find yourself in my house you’d better beware; you could happen… Continue reading She Doesn’t Know
Where I’m From
I am from glowing candles on a Van de Kamps cake, from Ford and rollie pollies. I am from the mint green duplex on the corner… 415…the cracked stucco, the stoop with no rail. I am from the lilac bush hollowed out like a fort, the purple petals raining down like wishes falling from the… Continue reading Where I’m From
Every Rose
I couldn’t get her out the door fast enough this morning. It was one of those no I don’t wanna you’re stupid I don’t love you mornings. One of those mornings when an ugly seed plants itself in her belly. And so abruptly it blooms – sprouting angry, hateful words. They grow from the pit… Continue reading Every Rose
The Wife. And Happy To Be.
My friend Heather tells me not to do it. But I do it anyway. Watch Oprah, that is. I can’t help it; she has some really great shows. Even though sometimes she sticks her foot in her mouth, smack dab in the middle of a really great show. Such was the case last week. The… Continue reading The Wife. And Happy To Be.