Category Archives: motherhood

E is for Eliza

My inveterate journal keeping seems to have been passed down to my younger daughter.  In our recent move, I sorted through lots of stuff (SO MUCH STUFF) and found many pieces of art and writing by my children.  My favorite … Continue reading

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C is for Canoe

Star   In a canoe at night my grown-up daughter takes the stern her J-stroke confident.   In the middle we rest our paddles. The quiet fills with crickets and the small lapping of waves.   We crane at the … Continue reading

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Forgetting/Remembering

A memory of Lena, age 5. What she remembers: We are facing each other on the bed at night. She nervously confides to me that she likes a boy. I laugh in her face. What I remember: She tells me … Continue reading

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Halloween

I wore a sheet wrapped around my fluffy baby blue parka the rain stuck the sheet to the parka and I was a wet ghost My hood up, white fur around my face mittens holding out a pillowcase remembering the … Continue reading

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Car

Walking the dog I circle back over the field behind the empty high school parking lot and wait to see my daughter drive for the first time A green Honda zooms in stops with a flourish in the corner of … Continue reading

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Baby

Cheek faintly sweaty against my neck top of head fitting under my chin just so heat rising from the feathery hair Drifting to sleep body against body softness melting into softness boundaries blurred The mind tries to work plan. Won’t … Continue reading

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Today

That perfect warm air that giddy feeling it happens every spring and you try to remember what it’s like Shoulders unhunch arms expand under just a t-shirt It isn’t hot yet You dimly remember or remember remembering some day before … Continue reading

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For Boston

My husband told me he has worked hard not to know what happened in Newtown. “You mean, six-year-olds?” “Yes. No. I know what happened. Don’t tell me any more.” I don’t blame him. I don’t blame myself for going on … Continue reading

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Home from the Fair, 1961

Pirate. A good girl, smiling at some private pleasure a drawn-on mustache a good day at the fair. Gypsy smiles broadly, enjoying her lipstick, her gold earring her tight headdress the glamor of the oldest girl. Boy with balloon. He … Continue reading

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The deal

I don’t like the world Where I drive by Road kill And do nothing But avoid spreading it further. I do not stop and create A ceremony. I do my best to ignore It forget it. I don’t like this … Continue reading

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