I have been fighting the demons for a long time…and I’m not speaking of my children. Deep inside of me I know, even when no one else does. They are all the things that I am afraid of; they are what I might have been; and they are the things I mustn’t ever tell. OnContinue reading “Curtain Call”
Tag Archives: mental illness
Asparagus
He had spun me from what was left of my childhood, turning me toward the rich path of motherhood by his very existence. I made acquaintance with his wise, deep eyes and soft, wild hair. Together, we tried to figure out what to do. It’s hard to make sense of things, to make them allContinue reading “Asparagus”
Magnolia
It always seemed like by the time I would notice that the magnolia blossoms had opened, the petals had begun to fade and fall from the tree, leaving a disappointing, slippery mass which seemed to scoff: “You’ve missed it again.” This year, though, our tree held its flowers for much longer than I had everContinue reading “Magnolia”
Outbuildings
The property was maybe a forty-five minute drive from my grandparents’ house in the St. Louis city limits, but the contrast between the expansive country acreage and the tidy urban parcel led me to believe that we must have circled the moon and stars to get there. I can’t even remember the color of theContinue reading “Outbuildings”
No Elderberry Tree
“Mom, why are you crying?” His question came from a place of innocence that I feared was about to fade before my eyes, which could no longer contain what I knew. “Because she loves you,” said the nurse softly, gently, poignantly. I knew it would be different this time, for so many reasons. So I’mContinue reading “No Elderberry Tree”
Tie Me to a Tree
The six year old practices every bad word he knows in one long stream, shot directly at my quiet request to put on fresh underwear. Three days seems a little long for the same pair of boxers…even during e-learning. “Home is their haven.” These were words that I shared more than once or twice overContinue reading “Tie Me to a Tree”
I Like Your Pants
The elastic was stretched thin on the worn red cotton gingerbread-printed pajama pants. My second-hand find from years ago slipped dangerously low despite my bread-and-sugar belly. The chickens never seemed bothered by my fashion sense; they fluttered to greet me that morning as I delivered their feed. “I like your pants.” My little son’s wordsContinue reading “I Like Your Pants”
Strip Me Bare
Last year, they were probably heard screaming through to the second floor of the clinic, and there were fights…battles…battles that they did not win. No one did. A friend shared a link on social media yesterday, and I read every word, as often I do when this particular friend posts things. If she finds somethingContinue reading “Strip Me Bare”
Let Me Be Your Lesson
“Everything is either a blessing or a lesson.” Who was it that said that, anyway? Maybe, some things can be both of those at the same time. Perched on top of the hill at the edge of my grandparents’ property, my brother, my sister, and I spent strings of days looking out onto the St.Continue reading “Let Me Be Your Lesson”
A Chicken Gets Her Wings
Love, young love, I hope you are well. At least we now both Have a story to tell. —Keaton Henson, “Sarah Minor” I should have known by the way she spun in a circle as she moved among the pine shavings, even somersaulting as she crashed into the other chicks. Sometimes, she kept one eyeContinue reading “A Chicken Gets Her Wings”
