This I can Control

Posted: October 1, 2019

I have this habit of making things more complicated than they need to be. I could give you countless examples, some much more personal than others, but I will use this one: I make the process of selecting a new journal almost torturous. To begin, I’m picky. The paper can’t be too slippery because then the pen moves too freely and my writing becomes illegible. It can’t be too heavy because I often carry it along with me in my purse. It can’t be too large for the reasoning just stated. It needs to be easy to write in, which…

This Post has no Discernible Theme

Posted: September 15, 2019

I sat staring at the blank screen for more than a few minutes this morning. Clicked over to a couple blogs I enjoy. Took another sip of my near-cold coffee. Stared down at my slightly chipped manicure. Writing—the act of it, the thought of it—feels so different this year. I hadn’t realized until she was gone that so much of what I wrote was done in the hopes of pleasing my mother. I wanted to write something she would be proud of. Now, I write almost nothing at all. What I do is read. Even more than I did before….

summer break is over

and just like that… summer break is over

Posted: August 12, 2019

This morning my son walked into his first day of the first grade which means, among many other things including time moving far too quickly, that summer break is over. There’s so much hope in the beginning, isn’t there? The warm weather, the sun, the long days: it all leads you to believe that summer will be magic. There will be popsicles and lie-ins and dips in the pool and, if you’re lucky, trips to the beach. But this summer break felt like a tease. There was the promise of a break. Of slower, gentler times. I allowed myself to…

BEAUTIFUL WORDS I’VE READ LATELY | 03

Posted: July 9, 2019

Hanging On To A Home Stretching its long legs and shaking the sleep from its eyes, our home decided to move. This of course surprised us. You jumped out of bed and ran to hold shut the rattling cupboards. I went around collecting the paintings from the walls and stacked in safe layers the history of our bad taste. As the landscape changed, we watched the prairie give way to skyline to skyline to skyline as our home sprinted from one city to another. Trinkets from a dozen travels vanished. Shelves toppled over. Books-I-promised-to-read flew out windows and doors. We…

35 Years

Posted: June 7, 2019

Today, June 7th, 2019, is my 35th birthday. I’m writing from a chair on the back deck of my parent’s house in Ontario, Canada. The weather is much like what it was two weeks ago back in Las Vegas: mid-70s. It’s glorious. It’s strange to be back here so soon. We left only six weeks ago, a few days after my mother’s funeral. Yet here I am, celebrating a birthday in my childhood home thousands of miles away from my husband, without my mom. I woke up much too early this morning feeling groggy and unsure what time zone my…

The Season Ahead

Posted: June 3, 2019

Despite time moving more slowly than ever—and feeling entirely different since my mother’s death—it’s June somehow. I shake my head every time I’m reminded of this fact. The end of the school year has come and gone; my son is no longer a kindergartener. That alone makes me feel nostalgic, emotional, and a few others things.  I have a tendency of retreating into myself when things get hard, and Things. Are. Hard. But I don’t want to do that this time. My mom would hate it—she would hate to know how much I’ve shut friends and family out already. If…

Some Thoughts on Gratitude

Posted: May 31, 2019

I woke up Wednesday morning with a deep sense of exhaustion in my bones and had only one thought beyond wishing I could go back to sleep: That I would be grateful for this day I’ve been granted. I closed my eyes and listened to the birds outside the window, the kind of quiet coming from my son’s bedroom that could only mean he was still asleep, the soft breathing of my husband in bed next to me. I slipped out of bed and tugged on a housecoat over my nightgown. I was on a mission for coffee; if I…

A New Chapter

Posted: May 28, 2019

I don’t notice the color of my therapist’s new office during my first visit, but looking back on it now, I imagine it to be an unimaginative shade of beige. Beige is boring. And entirely expected. I can, however, recall the way her dark hair was pulled away from her face, and her kind eyes. I wonder if that’s a prerequisite to becoming a therapist; those eyes. The kind that can coax anything from you—the truth, perhaps. Certainly everything else, too.

words to live by

Posted: May 24, 2019

What Has Always Been Again I resume the longlesson: how small a thingcan be pleasing, how littlein this hard world it takesto satisfy the mindand bring it to its rest. What more did Ithink I wanted? Here iswhat has always been.Here is what will alwaysbe. — Wendell Berry (via)

on losing a mother

she always knew when enough was enough

Posted: May 5, 2019

not many people can tell you what you’re in forwhen you lose a parent suddenly.i’m glad that’s the case, but good godit would be nice to talk to someone my agewho understands what it feels like. my mom died seventeen days ago.we’d been by her side for days, weeks, all of us—sisters, aunts, nieces, nephews, granddaughters,brothers, daughters, husband, friends—but she waited until i stepped out for a moment,when she could be alone with my dad,to take her last breath. i sat back in a tiny, uncomfortable chair,pulled my legs tight against me and wept.i’ve never felt more alone than in…