I am not a natural optimist. Realist bordering on pessimist perhaps, glass half empty–but because I drank it. But definitely not an optimist. There is no sunshine in my Suzy. There is no Anna in my Polly. On the other hand, there’s no rain on my parade either. But there are definitely clouds. Sometimes wind….
Tag: memoir
Heart Song, City Song
Eighteen years is a long time. It’s enough time to mature from infant to adult, for edges to lose their sharpness and dull to the touch. Photographs fade and colors mute, losing their urgency, something belonging not to the moment, but to the past, tinted with nostalgia. Things shift, break apart, decompose–reduced to skeleton pieces;…
To the Girls Who Shared Their Aqua Net With Me
For the past few summers, I’ve been getting together with a small group of friends from high school. Each year we seem to add a friend or two, like charms to a bracelet. And though it’s been nearly thirty years since we threw our mortar boards into a cloudy, June sky, it’s easy to slip back into a friendship…
To All the Moms I’ve Loved Before
First was the mother who cradled me, belly then arms; the one who checked for breath in the middle of the night and stayed up until dawn slaying fevers, the one who documented first teeth and words, who started a living record in her memory. The mother who held out her arms to catch my first tentative…
Wine and Cheese (Doodles) 