Dear Kindergarten Teacher, I am going out of town this week. My husband and Henry are coming with me because Henry is still nursing and can’t be away from me for more than twelve hours or else my milk will…
Browsing: Prose
I am a maker. Thoughts are words, words are the building materials. I hesitate to say bricks as they, the words, I mean, are as malleable as play-do, as changeable as water. I am, though, inert. My being is set,…
Seven years ago, we left our Upper West Side co-op for many reasons. My husband needed a driveway. My toddler deserved a bedroom with windows. I had to get out of the kitchen — that narrow room, where, cramped in…
A pen in hand works like bloodletting. Something in the gut. It’s the Voice of all voices asking to reign and leave my body behind, but I need more time. I trust other people when I want to believe they’re…
I brought our daughter with us to the last nursing home. Both her grandmothers were there to help me figure out the next step on our path. She was only five and we’ve been in these type of situations since…
I have lost twenty-four pounds. Most of it seemingly from my breasts. “They are like teenage breasts,” my husband says. He quickly adds, “That’s a compliment.” I have my doubts. Why do the breasts go before the potbelly? Yet that,…
The language of motherhood isn’t equipped with words to express and the lack of control one feels about having a sick child. When I think of Homer’s poem – each island rising up from the flat surface of the page,…
There are moments in life where we hit a new level of independence and experience growth so significant that it changes our reality. I had one last night that was so strong it reminded me of leaving adolescence. My husband…
1973: In the beginning there was mom, music, and movement. My world was rich and alive with trees, fresh fruit and vegetables, and an earthy vibration that flowed through everything I knew. 1988: The lock-down crept up on me, much…
I used to live across the street from a little Austrian lady. Hedy’s home was a haven for three-hundred plus birds. Cages lined the walls, and on summer days she would open the windows and let the rest of the…