I am in here.
What is now a long time ago — Driving my son to school — a school half an hour and a couple of interstate highways away and which started at 8:00 sharp — not talking much because of the earliness and the dark of the morning, letting the radio play its music. Without looking over … Continue reading Hands: #FMFparty #FMFriday #FiveMinuteFriday
My mother thought that inner strength, moral strength, moral superiority, were best dealt with through silence. It was the best thing to do to appear unaffected by the traumatic event one was just passing through or had recently endured. After Aunt Sudie’s death, a few days before which my mother could be heard from behind … Continue reading How to grieve.
The firewood was always freshly stacked in its brass bin by the fireplace in the den each winter afternoon. When I was little, I would try to carve this wood with the blade of the letter opener that sat with its matching pair of scissors and note pad by the telephone in the bar. This … Continue reading Firewood
“You have your whole life ahead of you.” I was seventeen and in the throes of a toxic relationship with my mother. An English teacher of mine gave me that bit of advice in a long stream of advice that I have otherwise forgotten. I’m 54 now, but it suddenly occurs to me that the … Continue reading The Best Advice I Ever Received
