Category Archives: parenting

Plumbing

Posted on May 7, 2019 by

Even though they had holes in them, I kept wearing the same socks. I walked the back yard in my socks when it wasn’t wet. Charlotte was up at the trampoline and I went back up to apologize for what … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, parenting | Tagged , , , , , | 14 Comments

That last Friday in April

Posted on April 26, 2019 by

Dawn quit her job so she could spend more time with the kids, and that meant her office was up for grabs. Dawn’s office is kind of ideal, with good morning light flanked by book shelves, and a door that … Continue reading →

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The first death

Posted on April 25, 2019 by

The dog’s warm tongue on my cheek, the den by the window where the sun comes in to expose the hair on my carpet, the dust on the lamps, the dirt on my legs from the morning’s hike. Going up … Continue reading →

Posted in death, Memoir, parenting, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 19 Comments

Outside the frame

Posted on April 17, 2019 by

I made plans to see friends I hadn’t seen in about 30 years, since high school. I took a Lyft to the bar and sat in a table by the front, and sent one of them a text: Pat fell … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 12 Comments

What was left

Posted on April 14, 2019 by

What was left in Charlotte’s bowl wasn’t worth saving. But I ate it on principle, so it wouldn’t go to waste. And there was an analogy in that, to going back to my hometown for our annual visit, gumming the … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

Real time

Posted on March 28, 2019 by

Probably the most comforting thing I could do was drink in bed. When I quit drinking I wrote a list of all the things I pledged I wouldn’t do when I started drinking again and one of the top 3 … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, parenting, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Regret

Posted on March 12, 2019 by

I imagined the house quiet, after they’d left. I could hear the memory of their voices as they were now, an echo. I could feel my heart pull in the way a hand contracts to a fist, the way a … Continue reading →

Posted in parenting, poetry, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments