After the Murder

“Your coffin reached the monstrous hole. And a part of me went down into the muddy earth with you and lay down next to you and died with you.” ― Rosamund Lupton, Sister After the murder, my prayers went something like this: “Help me. God, help me. Please, fucking help Read more

You Rise

(For my dear sister, Kay, I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.) Your face is fading. I see shadows of chin, cheekbone, childhood inside my mind. Orange Kool-Aid, baloney sandwiches, Aunt Carol’s peonies like colossal, pink faces thrill us. He loves me, he loves me not. You tell me you Read more

Cradles Long Forgotten

Heavy minutes rhyming on her white wall, crying, flailing, slowly falling down like trickles of blood pooling around everybody’s eyes, around everybody’s smiles, but everybody smiles. Her fingers walk across the marble floor, nails scraping and tongues bending like half-empty dresses hung inside a closet. Boots, now worn, lie sullenly Read more

She Took My Heart With Her That Day

Kids are hard–they drive you crazy and break your heart–whereas grandchildren make you feel great about life, and yourself, and your ability to love someone unconditionally, finally, after all these years. ―Anne Lamott, Some Assembly Required July 23, 2012 The day my life changed forever. In every way. I became Read more