Poetry Night

Mama I saw her standing alone, In the middle of the room,one baby at her leg, the other on her hip.One baby cries, loud, inconsolable sobs bursting from her tiny lips. Another small one joins her,with a higher pitch that finds the breaking point of glass, shattering the woman’s nerves.Three other children roam this house;A six year old chases the seven year old down the hall,yelling, “Give it back to me.”And the seven year old yells back, “NO!”...more

This Is A Birth Story

I’d like to tell you a birth story.  But this is not a story about a baby.  This is a story about a woman.Megan, my little sister, has had two babies and I was in the labor and delivery room for both births, a girl, named Vivi, and a boy, named Milo.  While their births were, like most births, little miracles, it was while watching my sister labor that I saw the rarest of beauties....more

Sexy, Sexy Social Security

There is nothing remotely chic or glamorous about being poor and elderly.  Yet women are far more likely than men to find themselves in that exact situation.  Women make less and live longer, so smaller resources  have to stretch to cover  longer years....more

A Mother's Love & A Home Gone

You never know how something will affect you. I have shared about my mother's passing last year and feeling weird since May 28, 2012 when she died. Not feeling like myself sometimes and feeling just numb. Well though some things have been great, her missing has affected me more than ever in the past few months. I thought I was at least moving forward, but as the Priest and Ministers have shared with me, the first year is getting over the shock and then you begin to heal....more

On Losing a Daughter . . . to College

It should be easier, to send child number two to college. Reverse separation anxiety, child leaving parents, not vice versa. This should have worked itself out of my system, shouldn’t it?            I should rejoice that she is departing for her life’s grand adventure, especially since she wasn’t the easiest child to parent. There was sass, a season of dishonesty. A lack of enthusiasm for chores, a regular pile of clothing to press....more

It's a Boy!

The radiologist’s face hovered an inch from the screen. "So," he said. "Do you want to know the sex of the baby?"            My mouth fell open. "Really?"            My husband's eyebrows rose. "Right now?"            The doctor rolled his stool around to face us. He rubbed his thighs briskly....more

Watching Your Mother Die

You push your metal chair way back in the cramped hospital room. You’re still only two feet from her bed, but you need space to breathe—even though she barely can.You watch her 59-year-old mouth gape like a dying carp’s and thank god and the morphine that she’s unconscious. You ignore the fact that you’ve been sweating the cancer-ward smell—latex, alcohol, flat Sprite—out of your skin for weeks.You also ignore the truth: that time and tumors can’t fill the chasm between you and the woman lying there. You feel the old hurt mix with the new hurt so savagely your bones ache....more
If I hadn't known better, I might have thought I wrote this...  So many similarities to my own ...more

How Journaling is Going to Make Me a Better Mom

When I was in high school I took a creative writing class and was on the literary magazine staff. I loved writing. I would write short stories, poetry and I maintained a journal. It seemed there was an almost endless flow of words that streamed out of my mind and onto paper. I remember lying awake at night with ideas and phrases racing through my brain until I could get them out on paper....more


A year ago, a family I grew up with lost their mom suddenly. They were shocked and grief stricken, as the kids all gathered around their father to try and make sense of all that has happened....more

The Legacy

As far as legacies go, my tastes lie with something simple, like a check. Or stock. Or heirloom china. Unfortunately Mama wasn’t the heirloom china type. What I got when she departed for the peaceful place where mothers don’t have to cook, clean, or say, “If I told you once, I told you a million times,” was not the inheritance I assumed was my birthright. What she left me was the very thing I was the least qualified to handle. Wisdom....more