Category Archives: motherhood

I get along

I get along without her.  Her absence is not filled, its center deep, but things spill in.  Time with her sister, clamoring and very much still here.  Time with my husband!  Myself, without her.  Who am I then, if not … Continue reading

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Breath

Silent under water, above, legs rotoring. Twenty-five yards with no breath. Up for air, I hear voices ricochet off the slick tiles. Missing the silence I dive back down. A lover’s technique breath breath Flat on my back on the … Continue reading

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Poem on April Fool’s Day, but true

Inspired by my poet friend Laurie MacDiarmid and in honor of Poetry Month, I am going to try to write a poem a day this April.  Here is my first. I don’t write poetry. It’s 9:51 pm and my 12 … Continue reading

Posted in happiness, motherhood, parenting, writing | 2 Comments

Maybe It is the Snow

Today I am inexplicably happy.  I think maybe it’s the snow, lightly flurrying, only sticking here and there, making me feel like I want to feel on Christmas.  But everything seems to please me this late November day, even things … Continue reading

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Facebook Photo Album

The happiness jumps out.  The experience was chaotic, stressful.  Eliza full of complaints, Lena full of angry sass.  “Did you see the Chrysler building?”  “She has eyes!” “I want to go back.” An artistic shot of most of a Macy’s … Continue reading

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They See My Failures Now

They see my failures now.  They are old enough to judge.  For instance, I am an absent-minded driver.  I have, on occasion, bumped up and over a curb.  Driving to Rhode Island with Eliza, we nearly got sideswiped when I … Continue reading

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On the dock

A skinny boy stretches off the dock for the highest branch of the blueberry bush.  His pinkish white skin glows against the shadows in the bush, and his arm crooks around the crooked branch to clasp a handful of berries. … Continue reading

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Lizzie

            The young American couple, bound for home with their first child, board the Queen Elizabeth in August, 1951.  People smile at the juxtaposition of little Lizzie, three months old, with the huge ocean liner that shares her name.  Ellen … Continue reading

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Sunny

Sonya was my next door neighbor.  When we met, we were both pregnant.  I was nearly 37, she was 15.  Her voice came to me from behind the screen of her kitchen window above my driveway, as I maneuvered my … Continue reading

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