Don’t treat her that way, People told me. How could you act like this? “She’s your mother.” It’s unbecoming to cut you off, They say, Just like it was unbecoming … Continue reading Unbecoming.
Tag: painful memories
Wild Geese.
A friend of mine recently shared this poem on her Facebook page, in the context of thinking about the High Holidays (Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, and the week in … Continue reading Wild Geese.
If you knew…
If you knew that a horrible, life-altering event were going to occur tomorrow morning…what would you differently tonight? Would you hug your loved ones tighter? Read your kids one more … Continue reading If you knew…
I am an Existential Beach.
Every so often, a weather front will blow in and there will be a whiff of ocean in the air. A salty breeze, subtle, probably unnoticeable to most people, but … Continue reading I am an Existential Beach.
Differently bad.
My mother’s birthday was this past Wednesday. I had built up a fair amount of agitation about it ahead of time, anticipating that it would be a challenging day for … Continue reading Differently bad.
Seven lies (and two truths) my father told me.
In a sense, the term “lies” seems a bit strong, as for the most part, what this list entails is pretty harmless. But sugarcoating any of it by calling them … Continue reading Seven lies (and two truths) my father told me.
Buckle up, buttercup!
Are you ready for the craziest revelation I’ve had in years? I’ve discovered that, much like the secondhand smoke I inhaled around my practically chain-smoking parents for the majority of … Continue reading Buckle up, buttercup!
Angry.
I fucking hate Mother’s Day. There. I said it. My mother is a toxic narcissist who fucked my brother and I up in more ways than I can count. I’ve … Continue reading Angry.
When the grief runneth over.
Like a toppled wine glass slowly staining the Seder table, sometimes grief spills out and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Sometimes holidays are just friggin’ hard. I … Continue reading When the grief runneth over.
Owing.
Conflicting emotions cross Thresh’s face. He lowers the rock and points at me, almost accusingly. “Just this one time, I let you go. For the little girl. You and me, … Continue reading Owing.
Journeys in the Dark 