image credit here “Your name Drason?” she asked, raising her heavy eyelids upward to where he stood. “Yes, it is.” “You just lose a baby?” And there it was. Put out there – just like that. The back of his neck stiffened just a bit, causing him to straighten. Eight weeks and his body still...
from the chair where I sit, I see his face. not “see his face” in the sense of it being etched in my mind, in the way that it has been carved into my daily consciousness since his spirit flew heavenward, but “see his face” in a very literal way – staring back at me from the photo frames that have...
the driver of a station wagon littered with bumper stickers, burden-light, who let you cut over so that you could make your left turn. the old man, moving slow, who held the door open with shaky hand, humbly insisting that you enter first. the teacher, full of Monday but still wearing smile, who...
Drason, a father who carries — and is carried, too. i remember the day that little livi was born. four of our besties, Sonya and myself included, were preggers at the same time. we rubbed bellies, shared maternity clothes, and told sweet lies to each other, things like “no, your face...
photo credit here This post, pulled from a crackling phone line in a conversation with Sonya … who, like all of us — and yet, not quite like most of us — has good days and bad. This story starts on one of the bad … i couldn’t eat my food. could not touch one bite. ...
i spoke with my friend Sonya twice today. the first was hard. with our kiddos napping, we let a phone line pretend to give us a real connection … i listened as she talked about amazing things — things that Banebow is doing that i’m still trying to process so that i can report...
Sweet Baby Bane has a birthday. Notice the verb. Not sweet Baby Bane had a birthday, he has one. It’s October 23rd. And it will always be his. Now, the look of that day has changed this year. Plans that were being brainstormed around — the theme (maybe a jungle theme, to match his...
photo credit here Turns out, even a preacher man has a bad day, now and then. And on a day such as this, one preacher man found himself stranded, his car on the side of the highway, silent and useless as a paperweight. He set off on foot, hoofed it to a friend’s house, and because it was...
breath mints are small things. you package them with bottled water, scented candles, and cleaning supplies and it still doesn’t add up to much, really. unless the people on the receiving end of them have just experienced this… … have just watched a life-altering tragedy flash by...
This post was written after a conversation with Sonya, when I asked her to describe what she’d felt that day, the morning of Bane’s celebration. Anyone who knows Sonya knows that she speaks raw and real, but I don’t think even she was prepared for the way this story ends...
“I want to go and talk with her.” “You want to do what?””I want to talk to her. She has lost a son, too. Maybe there’s something I can do or say to help her.” Her words stunned. Stunned. How could she, who had just felt...
“Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery’s shadow or reflection: the fact that you don’t merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in...
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