Fire in the Pit
I write fire.
I fire words.
Words fire me.
Capturing
When I read these words about today months, even years, from now, I’ll remember the places I turned and the spots of shade as I mowed, the flood of unsettling and grounding memories of Mom mowing these yards, and the tissues of my heart fraying and knitting at once knowing how quickly things slowly change. How lucky am I, capturing life’s moments with words?
Take Your Writer Out for a Walk
Deep Listening Hissy Fits
Scattered Home
Home in my head is even more scattered now, because it includes the places my children have made theirs. I came home from Chicago with a full heart because the parent in me is joyful to find the warmth, safety, and the coziness of home under her child’s roof.
Emotions then Numbers
Maybe we can think of 125 things Mom means to us—one for each day of this year so far—before we drift off under the Chicago sky, where city lights dim the stars.
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