The Breaking

(Originally written August 17, 2017) It rained for a week after Caryn died. Memory is a funny thing and can easily be manipulated to suit the stories that we want to tell, so maybe I am wrong, but I remember it as a soft rain, the kind of rain that you can stand under and… Continue reading The Breaking

The stones in the middle of the river.

I pay attention to the sky more than I used to. For a long time now, I've seen without seeing. When I tell people I feel like I'm just waking up - this is what I mean. The cotton candy edges of clouds float across the ombre blue sky. To my left is light Robin… Continue reading The stones in the middle of the river.

Lucky Number Thirteen

When I was twenty years old, my mother and grandmother died within three days of each other. I remember feeling almost incredulous. This didn't happen in real life, this was like a story line from the soap operas I watched so religiously in high school. This didn't happen to real people. Except it did, and… Continue reading Lucky Number Thirteen