Fall

I've been doing everything I possibly can not to write about you. I shut down my computer.  I make more plans.  I thwart my own desire to write. I don't tell friends your name, I won't introduce you.  I put your flowers on the coffee table and stuffed the hand written note into the top left... Continue Reading →

One.

Every mother has one story about each child that, over and over, they still love to tell. In this one, I am standing in the grocery store, maybe four years old - up to her knees or so - and I tug on her jeans. “Mommy! Mom! Moooooom!” I say, eyes full and round. She... Continue Reading →

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