She often thought she had been cheated out of her childhood and early teen years. There were no photos of her parents and brother proudly flanking her at high school graduation. The family sedan never received its first fender bender from her first driving attempt.
I couldn’t help but stare at Ashley with a look of dumbfounded pity. In what was definitely a display of naïveté and wishful thinking, she had allowed two, strange men to park her car.
“Ashley, how long has it been since they said they would park your car?”
She tilts her head and scrunches her brow, trying to equate drunk time with r…[Read more]
She opened the box and grasped the wooden rattle her grandfather had made for her mother. Marveling at the intricate pattern – a green paisley print interspersed with yellow stars – she couldn’t help but be excited at the thought of her little bundle of joy entering the world.
I carry these burdens,
strapped to my back,
in old trunks,
fastened together by
brass buckles and
and travel stickers,
Sturdy like an oak tree,
flexible like a branch and its
leaves billowing in the wind.
I’d like to think I’m these things as I
climb up my 24th flight of stairs.
But in the…[Read more]
It’s so crazy to me how easily you managed to sweep me off my feet. I always thought my two left feet anchored me to the floor, made me unmovable. But, here you are: sweeping me off my feet, teaching me what it means to not only love yourself, but to love another person.
When we were young,
autumns were all about the leaves changing colors,
new semesters beginning,
tailgating and drinking pilsners
during college football season.
So many secrets were shared
under warm blankets, next to
campfires, with marshmallows melting
and charring off the tips of sticks.
Now, it’s all of those things, but