Soon, it will have been three years since you died by suicide. Three years since the day I sat in my car outside your place with my cellphone pressed to my ear, requesting a welfare check from the non-emergency police line. It was a Friday and you hadn’t shown up to work. Your car was… Continue reading When You Took Your Life; Aftermath
My stomach has been tight with fear today. It's been building all week, a fire slowly being stoked right underneath my chest cavity. I've tried to ignore it, but fear has a sneaky way of slipping through the cracks. I have learned over the past years that pretending my house isn't on fire doesn't keep… Continue reading Combustion, Combat
The Eye of the Earth is Forever
Every moment we have is temporary. There is something wired in us to believe in the infinite - (an ever expanding universe, the gods of our ancestors, souls of the departed) and that seeps into the minutes of our days and nights. But nothing is actually guaranteed. This time next year, things will be different.… Continue reading The Eye of the Earth is Forever
Comfort Comes From American Eagle, Size Small
(Originally written on December 12, 2018) It is a hot day in the middle of summer, and I am finally getting around to an errand I've been meaning to do for a couple of months now. Small bells jingle as I walk into the dry cleaners. "Just the one item today, please" I say, setting… Continue reading Comfort Comes From American Eagle, Size Small
Silent alarms and birthday songs
(Originally written and posted on Facebook October 8, 2017) Last year, it was on Saturday. We had no grand plans of celebration - it was just the two of us and a shared pizza and it was exactly as it was supposed to be. There was a man with a guitar and a microphone and… Continue reading Silent alarms and birthday songs
(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
I've been trying to write all day. I feel the pressure building up - it's right there, under the surface, words that need to be released. But they are stuck. Which is appropriate I suppose, since I feel stuck today. It's as if my soul has caught on a piece of gum discarded on this… Continue reading Beginning Again
Falling Together Again
On the day before my one year anniversary of sobriety, I turned to Caryn and said "I'm afraid no one will come." We were outside on a smoke break at work, and I was referring to the sit-in that was happening that night. What I understand now is, I really meant "I'm afraid I'm not… Continue reading Falling Together Again