Writing about moments that remind me of pleasant things from days gone by.
I really love clothes. Or I did, anyway, until somehow that became not okay. But that’s another topic, the shame that’s thrown onto survivors for loving things that’s just for them. Anyway. I wore a red satin skirt to work once. That’s it. That’s all I got. I wore a…
Our lives keep score in patterned seconds in spite of our desire to avoid keeping time. The world might have silenced the deafening sound of decision-making by syncing satellites and burning Rome’s numerals in order to make it seem as if it is effortless to carefully consider choices, but there…
The change in the seasons has me edgy this year. I can feel an undercurrent running through me that has me looking for Whitman warning me to sing my body electric. I felt its thrill in a breeze that refused to die in a clinging summer’s finger tips just this…
There are some things you don’t get better at with age and one of those things is knowing how to handle death. Even though we might think we know all the right answers by now, Death always has the upper hand. It doesn’t matter how many articles I’ve read on the…
There were times when I was what I call a “sassy pants” when I was a little girl. I honestly don’t think I meant to be a sassy pants. I believe my behavior is what some people considered “precocious”, though to my mother it translated it as “smarty”. Looking back on my…
Grief is a strange thing. It ebbs and flows as if it were the tide being pulled by a moon that seems to reflect only on the past. There is a constant struggle between a shore that wants to be wrapped in the water’s constant presence and the water that…
