We Are On Our Way There (4)

Continues from “We Are On Our Way There (3)”In trying to remember that night, I’ve misplaced a bit of time. In not wanting to go back, I got ahead of myself.At 1:57 a.m. I texted: Please respond… How many times have I written these words to her?...more

We Are On Our Way There (4)

Continues from “We Are On Our Way There (3)” In trying to remember that night, I’ve misplaced a bit of time. In not wanting to go back, I got ahead of myself. At 1:57 a.m. I texted:...more

We Are On Our Way There (3)

Continues from “We Are On Our Way There (2)” Sitting next to Jo on the couch, I made myself stare at the screen as if the addictive magic of TV might eventually work. I tried hard to lose myself again in Alias—the unlikely action series that couldn’t be farther from my life, a life hijacked by parenting my adorable, impossible teenager....more

We Are On Our Way There (3)

Continues from “We Are On Our Way There (2)” Sitting next to Jo on the couch, I made myself stare at the screen as if the addictive magic of TV might eventually work. I tried hard to lose myself again … Continue reading → ...more

We Are On Our Way There (2)

Continues from “We Are On Our Way There (1)” I’ve been avoiding writing what happened next that Friday night, knowing it will lead me back to what happened after that. Over seven months of avoidance and here I am, facing a blank page. I don’t want to write this—I need to write it, and I’m learning just how far apart wanting and needing can be from each other....more

We Are On Our Way There (2)

Continues from “We Are On Our Way There (1)” I’ve been avoiding writing what happened next that Friday night, knowing it will lead me back to what happened after that. Over seven months of avoidance and here I am, facing … Continue reading → ...more

We Are On Our Way There (1)

(Continues from “Three Days”) After the first frost, Jo spreads straw over the strawberry bed and I clear collapsed morning glory vines from the front of our house. I eat the last three blackberries while circling our garlic beds, already safe under straw. Jo starts up the woodstove for the first time this season and I make a sweet tomato sauce with garlic and onions, cumin and curry, cayenne, cinnamon, and the last of our harvest. Stirring the red pot, I glance out the window. Bright leaves dance their last stunning, spiraling dance to the ground....more

We Are On Our Way There

(Continues from “Three Days”) After the first frost, Jo spreads straw over the strawberry bed and I clear collapsed morning glory vines from the front of our house. I eat the last three blackberries while circling our garlic beds, already … Continue reading → ...more

The Trouble with Pudding

I try to look away from the cheerful orange, yellow, and tan plastic containers so innocently perched in the dairy section. Averting my gaze as if from a wound, I escape nothing. Olivia’s love for rice pudding slows my pace, as if my parenting autopilot still runs me. Since she left, her favorite dessert is a food I cannot eat. I aim my cart toward the yogurt section as if about to make an important decision. Through tears, my vision sharpens. Here I go again. Not now, damn it. Not here. I laugh out loud—an abrupt exhale....more
*sniff*more

The Trouble with Pudding

I try to look away from the cheerful orange, yellow, and tan plastic containers so innocently perched in the dairy section. Averting my gaze as if from a wound, I escape nothing. Olivia’s love for rice pudding slows my pace, … Continue reading → ...more