Troubling Ourselves

Mama is dying. I’m sitting in her bedroom next to her hospital bed, the metal rail cold against my leg.  She is lying on her side, her right arm bent under her chin and across her chest, a tissue clenched between her thumb and forefinger.  The oxygen tube is bothering her and Vicky, her caregiver,… Continue reading Troubling Ourselves

Sifting

October 18 Dear Rock Creek Women-in-their-PJ's, It's late.  Probably most of you are in your beds, cozy and comfortable, sifting through the day's events as you drift off to sleep.  That's where I'm heading after I hit send. But before I do, I want to sift through the events that happened here, and tell you… Continue reading Sifting

Joy at Dawn

October 9 Dear Rock Creek Women of Dirt and Dishes, Snow days. Unexpected refund checks in the mail. Being sick on Sunday. How do you spell relief? I lay low, blow un-budgeted cash, and play hooky without guilt to get it. Give myself permission simply to be.  And not necessarily to be responsible. And that’s… Continue reading Joy at Dawn

Brightened and Fed

October 3 Dear Struggling-or-Dead Rock Creek Women, In response to learning that a friend had started a prayer group for another friend who was struggling, a third friend said to me, "Well, if you're not struggling, you're dead!" How fitting a segue that is as I sit down this week to dash off this quick… Continue reading Brightened and Fed

The True Country

September 25 Dear Rock Creek Women of Hope, I am in upstate New York as I write this, enjoying a long weekend with old college friends. We have been hiking and laughing and catching up for three days now in a part of the country I've never seen before, and yet reminds me of the… Continue reading The True Country

The Second Chance

He had been seeing a little boy’s head floating above the door in the hotel room.  And they had flown in an airplane they piloted across the mountain to attend Sadie’s wedding in our backyard.  Both of these stories gave us something to chuckle about at the reception.  Grammy drives a respectable Buick, and there… Continue reading The Second Chance

Making Room

I sat at the gate, sweating, praying that the Uber driver coming would be female. It was muggy-hot, like the air needed a good rinsing, and I chugged my Smart Water. The sky had clouded up since I’d sat down, a few raindrops on the sidewalk were disappearing. We’d had a little mix up about… Continue reading Making Room