I’m standing in the sunbeam path trembling as I watch it settle just above the heads of four paramedics kneeling over Greg, my husband.
Our eyes meet as the paramedics jog the gurney away from me down the dreadfully long hall hurrying toward the waiting ambulance. I attempt a reassuring aspect but fail miserably. His color changes from pasty white to gray in an instant. He struggles to breathe. I hold my breath. I swallow a sob as I … Continue reading A blink
Pick a classmate’s name out of a bowl, keep it a secret, sneak nice notes or small treats into their desk, share a present at the school Christmas party and reveal your identity. Sounds simple, right? If you’re familiar with the Secret Santa game, you’ll know that it’s played in a group during the Christmas … Continue reading Secret Santa
Hard, butterscotch candy tried to end me. "Never eat these unless you ask first," Mom warned. Immediately, those golden pieces of heaven with matching cellophane called my name.My friend, Jan and I played with our dolls, our moms chatted. Taking a water break, I spotted the butterscotch in a dish on the table. My … Continue reading Butterscotch Demon
Waves glide over my head stealing my breath. Not a swimmer, I push forward toward the prize: a sandbar approximately 200 yards off shore. At least I'm praying that's what it is and not an oceanic mirage. Greg slips easily through the water next to me; damn avid swimmer that he is. We met at … Continue reading Sandbar Swim
I sit in the pink semi-darkness of the growing dawn staring into the beautiful eyes of this tiny boy. I am overwhelmed. My breath catches, an ache in my throat, a sob of joy and fear. Fear of the future and joy for what it holds for him. He stares directly back at me. … Continue reading Waiting on Remy
Everybody must get stoned ... a most invasive earworm. Bob Dylan’s quirky song Rainy Day Women #12 and 35 topped the 1966 pop charts. I was a toddler. Listening to the raucous circus tune I'm transported to my aunt’s 1966 living room. Harvest gold carpet, a huge console that kept the record player, my teenage … Continue reading Everybody must get stoned …
“Any concerns?” I hear unease in Dr. Marc’s voice. Sitting in Walgreen’s parking lot I stare through the rain-smeared windshield, evening traffic rambles by.
I’m lobbying to protest a Tax Bill proposing public dollars pay for elective abortions.
Imitated each step. Followed every instruction. I struggle to prepare a meal to her perfection. I don’t possess the patience or skill to achieve mom’s cooking precision. She didn’t leave me her magic wand. Mom prepared recipes mostly from recollection. When she tried a new recipe, it was soon transformed and committed to memory. … Continue reading The Magic Wand