She used to race, Nikes flashing across worn asphalt, Lakefront wind slicing against her, heart pounding, flying free.She swam, limbs threading Lake Michigan's rough, cool waters, gulping air, rocketing herself forward, weightless. Back then, she measured her worth with numbers: pounds, pace, calories. Afraid of everything and nothing. She once saved two men from drowning.Nearly … Continue reading My body, a wonder
Call it foolish, call it futile, / say flamboyant if you dare. / As for me, I’ll call it radiance,
Where can we get a baby? / my son asks, his blue eyes piercing / in the morning's heel.
One of my favorite Bible stories is that of Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb. Her grief still fresh and sharp, she believes a visit to Jesus’ burial site promises a private space to mourn. But when Mary arrives, the stone has been rolled away. The perfume still lingers, but the grave is empty, save … Continue reading Eyes for Easter
Be gentle with yourself. // Listen closely to your heart ...
The first notable thing about Jay was his hair: shockingly blonde and spiky. The second: He was late to class on day one, strolling in during introductions. The only open seat was next to me, so he took it. His very presence shifted the air from stale to charged.
He is brightness and joy, // the glow of the warm sun // rupturing cloud cover.
In the year of pandemic, we could linger in bed on a Tuesday morning and discuss our dreams. Stay in our pajamas. Savor juicy blueberry pancakes and the view outside our bay window. Beyond the glass is a tree I never used to notice — red pinpricks fleck its branches in early spring before becoming pale green buds that unfurl into cream-colored blossoms.
All I can think of is the news — the violence at our nation’s Capitol, the security breaches, the deaths, the racism on display. Worry lodges itself in my stomach while I scroll, scroll, scroll, searching for answers. The question I keep coming back to: Who have we become? My son only wants to talk … Continue reading Heroes and villains
It’s my birthday. As I write, I am wondering what wisdom I have to share after 35 revolutions 'round the sun. Probably something about motherhood or paying attention. Or how to listen, how to make peace with your body, how to spot a seed of faith in a field of doubt. Those are essays I’ll write someday,