I notice the dried roses that I hung up beside my balcony door. One day, I had decided I’d like to keep one of the roses given to me by a special person. Drying it seemed like the only way. It turned into a habit: whenever a man gave me roses, I’d pull the nicest […]
moreFinally, my son lays his head in my lap again. He is getting older. We are watching swimming competitions on TV. I fiddle with his hair, scratch his back. This might be a good moment to say: “We broke up.” “Have they been swimming for an hour, mama?” “No, one minute.” “Oh.” Butterfly. Powerful shoulders. […]
moreI know a woman who picks at the blemishes on her skin. A mosquito bite, a pimple, a cut. She will turn them into painful little lesions. When the bleeding stops and they close to heal, she will scratch them open. She does so ritually, moving from one spot to the next in the same […]
moreWhile waiting for our meals, my son and I entertain ourselves by studying the Von Trapp-type family at the large table next to ours. We count 7 kids of all ages and 2 pairs of grown-ups. Who belongs to who? They drink, eat, laugh and talk in that picture perfect way we have all had […]
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