I pull a bag of fish fins and assorted parts from the freezer. I’ve been saving them since last summer when Gerry returned from his annual salmon fishing trip. We work together when my (not so) old man returns from the sea to fillet fish, tuck little packages in the freezer, and stuff some in…
Magical Things
It turns out to be a long and busy day. My mind is busy, and I struggle to wind down at the end of it. I think about opportunities and the changing of seasons. I have more questions than answers—that is most often the case. I believe in the wonder of magical things, and I…
Monday in May
And so, Monday. The morning, fresh and full of hope, as yet unmarried by noise, and busy, and those wild things that come to stir things up. Now there is peace and promise, and the wonder that comes with quiet anticipation. We ask, in the quiet place of unknowing, questions that unnerve us. We pray,…
Mother
I have empathy for the quiet and awkward woman who carried and birthed me. It wasn’t always that way, but I understand more now. Forty weeks wasn’t enough, but it was all that we had. In losing her I learned to grieve in guilty silence the loss of something I never had. I’m an expert now. Twenty-five…
Sweet Saturday
It feels like summer. Gerry’s going hiking and I’m tempted to sit in the lawn swing all day with a book in my hand, a glass of iced tea by my side, and one foot on the ground to maintain a gentle sway. I did that once. I spent an entire Saturday in the yard,…