The only one who could ever reach me, was the son of a roofer man . . . .
I married the son of a roofer man.
Some elevenish years ago, as I was finishing up law school and making big-city plans in my head, my father-in-law . . . → Read More: We, The Juxtaposed
Recently I visited a mall with The MotherSuch and The Four-Why-Oh. One of those super great malls that has a super fantastic kiddie play area right in the middle of it. One of those play areas that you have no choice but to pass when moving from retailers on one wing to retailers . . . → Read More: If You’ll Remember to Remind Me About This, You Might Save Me Some Word-Eating in Fifteen Years
Either it’s been slowing settling in for me or I’ve just become increasingly ready to admit it:
In an variety of ways, I’ve been on pause since about December 4, 2009.
That day, December 4, 2009, was the day on which the forward progression of my idea of our . . . → Read More: Unpausing
In June, I put a photo of some cards from my father up in the header (this one, here). And then I never explained the photo. I had intended to. But it became one of a couple dozen unfinished thoughts of this summer.
* * * * *
Once . . . → Read More: Unfinished
A few nights ago, The Child and I loaded into our car to head home from church. Before pulling away from the curb, I scrolled through the missed messages and emails that had accumulated on my phone while it had been silenced. Growing impatient and bored with my reading (and being anxious to . . . → Read More: Considering It: Sing About the Wheels
Hug, hug, kiss, kiss, I’ve missed you Other Such Sisterhood!
The Husband’s had me working this last week. Like working, working. Like not just turn-his-socks-right-side-out-before-laundering-them working. Although, that too. Except I think I forgot to do that this week. I’ve forgotten a lot of stuff, in fact. I think it’s because . . . → Read More: I Shall Soon Forget I Even Told You This (Although You Might Not Be So Lucky)
I do not know what it is like to be a cancer patient.
I only know how it is to be the granddaughter of one,
the niece of one,
the friend of one,
the daughter of one.
And words a daughter never wants to hear:
“Stage III B or IV”
“All that can be . . . → Read More: Cancer is an Expletive
If 2011 has a theme, and, to be clear, IT SOOOO DOES, it is The Year of Perseverance.
If I were to write out a list (meaning “here comes that list”) of themes for every year of my life (they all have one), a sampling might go something like:
1977 – . . . → Read More: Pershoeverance
Exactly thirty-four years ago today, my parents and I were hanging out together in a hospital room at the downtown branch of one of the hospitals in The Big City, getting to know one another. I was the baldish newborn over which they fussed and pretty much The Coolest Kid They’d Ever Known. . . . → Read More: Celebrating Thirty-Four, Ironically, Back Where We First Met
I’m about to ramble. I feel it coming on and am powerless to stop it.
You’ve been warned.
I sort of fell off the face recently. I know from calls and e-mails and texts that some of you have noticed. Which in its own way rocks. Not the falling . . . → Read More: A Momentary Pause from My Falling off the Face