I look at pictures of my grandparents. They were all alive when I was born. They died when I was five, sense, ten, and sixteen. My grandfathers proceeded my grandmothers. I have a few hazy memories of the men. A little more of my material grandmother. I truly remember my paternal grandmother. I don't miss … Continue reading Ashes to Ashes..
I remember. Do you? I don't remember every little detail. How about you? Did it really happen? It seems like it was so long ago. It seems like it happened yesterday. Was it real? Did that really happen? Do I have a right to these feelings when no one I know was hurt? Died. Scarred. … Continue reading In Memorium 2,996
Dear Home, I'm sorry I left you, and with you my parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews. My friends. My safety. My me. You were there for me for twenty five years, and I jumped on a plane without thinking for a moment what losing you might mean. I had always been so proud to be … Continue reading Missing You
I'm nervous and excited. I want to get this job. I am so scared to work again. It's been two years. I remember when I was twenty nine, I went back to work after eighteen months. Eighteen months earlier I had been working six days per week, Often with a couple of doubles thrown in … Continue reading It’s Off To Work I Go…
An hour ago I watched as a needle went into my vein, sliding in effortlessly, a slight sting when it broke the skin. It went nearly unnoticed. During many years of medical treatment I have had hundred of blood draws but also injections, shots. I am unsure if Americans use the word injection and that … Continue reading In and Out Goes the Needle
I'm imagining what it must be like to be twelve. I have a twelve year old daughter. Just on the cusp of her teenage years. I can already see the hormones surge through her body. A palpable change. The start of her journey towards womanhood. How scary. How exciting. For her and us, her parents. … Continue reading Teenagers
She is on her phone again. Talking, listening to music, playing on apps. Not playing with me. Not talking to me. Not holding me. I'm twelve years old. I'm her only child. I don't have a dad. Well that's not true. I go to stay in his house one night every two weeks. He's usually … Continue reading Play With Me