Category Archives: Memoir

A Wonderful Life ~ Twice

I have a wonderful life. It’s rich with people I love and who love me. I’m safe. I have room to grow and make a difference. Most of all, there’s my husband, and my son, too. Both to whom I’m … Continue reading

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Red Light, Green Light, In Between Light

A day or two before New Years my grandmother called me. She wanted to know how I was feeling. And doing. My infant daughter had died in October. My mom’s dad in September. My other grandfather, Noni’s husband, months before … Continue reading

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Telling Tales “After School”

This is a long piece, written a while ago. I’ve edited it but the truth is it covers 19 years and I’m not a good enough editor to distill it further. I place it here now for a couple of … Continue reading

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Body Surf

Remember when I mentioned that sometimes I bulldoze my way in with thoughts and recommendations? Yeah? Today I share some of those because they’ve been important to me. Maybe for you, too. You’ll know. So, here is something I learned about loss … Continue reading

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My Down and Dirty

I didn’t know it’s Suicide Prevention Awareness Week. Didn’t even know it existed. Seems like something I‘d know, doesn’t it? So sue me. I’m aware of the Out of Darkness overnight walk. My son and I occasionally say, Next year we’ll do it, but … Continue reading

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Un-Ringing

I remember what I wore that day. What my boy was wearing. We never wore those clothes again. We gave them away. Down to my favorite red winter coat with black velvet trim. I had looked at my watch. My … Continue reading

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Insides and Outsides

I’d always been round. A chubby child. Pleasantly plump. Pink cheeks on fair skin. Dark, dark, wavy hair. A cherubic babe from a Renaissance painting born to a later era. I felt like a near-miss. Mine is the least reliable … Continue reading

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If You Hear Tears in the Night

I didn’t know my son, whose second floor bedroom was above mine, could easily hear me sob at night. Tears held back in daylight came to find me then. Sorrow already surfaced recycled in the dark. Switching sides of the … Continue reading

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The Victim Is The Murderer

Journal Entry                                                                                                 March 18, 1993 Who is the man who murdered himself in our garage? Who’s the man who took such liberty with my life, and with my son’s? Who hated me … Continue reading

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Something Beautiful

Vicki carried the orchid to work one morning and set it on my desk. A white phalaenopsis nearly two feet tall in a beautiful cachepot nestled in a florist’s white gift box. Spanish moss covered the redwood planting bark. Three … Continue reading

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