Death, grieving, Jack, love, memories, reflections, relationships, transformations

this is what the eve of the 2,400th day feels like

Today would have been Jack's 55th birthday. Many years ago—I can't give you a specific number; grief is like that, almost like a magic trick, poof! taking things away while you aren't remembering to notice—I stopped pretending I had any idea what we'd be doing if he were still alive. In fact, I stopped allowing… Continue reading this is what the eve of the 2,400th day feels like

breakups, changes, dating, fear, Jack, love, men, reflections, relationships, writing

on losing my voice

Sometimes it feels like I'm going around in circles, trying to explain the same things to the same person who always doesn't understand or misconstrues or gets it wrong. This isn't my "usual" pattern; it's not something I've encountered before except when in relationships in which men left bruises not only on my heart but… Continue reading on losing my voice

chicago, childhood, love, NYC, reflections, texas

on blizzards, past and present

My earliest memories of heavy snowstorms involve the first love of my life, my father, coming home with icicles on his beard after working out in the cold for I-don't-know-how-many-days to sit half in-, half outside the oven, which my mother had preheated for him after receiving a phone call that he was finally on… Continue reading on blizzards, past and present

babies, grieving, love, mothering, pain, reflections, sex

on phantom pains from my uterus

It's been years—nearly a decade, really—since any rational thought to have another child has seemed worthy of consideration. At first (in my late 20s, early 30s, the years it might have been practical) the reasons tumbled like a snowball gaining both mass and momentum: I didn't want two under three or four or five; I… Continue reading on phantom pains from my uterus