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Poppi Stories
Every night before bed, Maisley and Coura want to hear stories from when I was younger. I often tell Poppi stories because they make me happy and keep him alive in their tiny worlds. When this one came to me tonight, l desperately wanted to call him and reminisce, so instead I’m writing it here. I remember so vividly that…
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Conversations with myself and my tiny humans
Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tired? Angry? Scared? Frustrated? Shame, fear, regret, disappointment, doubt; it’s all welcome here. I see that you need a hug. You don’t have to pretend or perform. You can be honest with me. You are my priority. I’m not going anywhere. Come here, come home, I see you. I love you. Let’s just be.
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Knowings
I know exactly what you’d be wearing. Where you’d be sitting. The suit you’d be sporting and one of three ties you’d be wearing. Who you’d be talking to. How your hands would be positioned and how you’d hold your drink. Those subtle moves on the dance floor. I know exactly how you’d smell and what you’d love and laugh…
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She’s Out!
I’m having a tough time distinguishing between what I said and what I thought; what I dreamt and what I did. In a matter of several beautiful, empowering, impossibly hard hours, I transitioned from being pregnant to postpartum, a baby in my womb to one on my chest. Our world has instantly become a sleepless blur of sweet snuggles, talking…
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Until Baby
The girls got haircuts. We went to Leucadia Donuts, the local shop with windows covered in stickers. The car seats are installed; three in a row. We set up the birth room and then we set it up again. My altar of inspiration featuring Mother Mary, Jesus, Dadio, Surfing Madonna, Mary Magdalene, magical trees, the northern lights and a few…
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Longings
My longings are tugging again,asking for her to come out and play. The wild one.The spontaneous, change-craving one. The one whose time was all her own.The one who thought slow and simple was for the birds. The one who could effortlessly free fall into lovewithout the fearof losing. Cocooned on the brink of new life,the longings sit and wait.To sit and wait,for the…
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In Loving Memory
The sting of seeing your photo still hits at odd timesHow did that frame become the closest my eyes will get to seeing you again?How did your name become something to memorialize rather than someone to call when my B.O.B. tire goes flat? We read the names and tributes on the benches at the beach:An awesome guy, friend and brotherA…
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Just a Thought
What if we lingered a little while longer? Awkward hands and dancing feet. Eyes locked on another person or a piece of ourselves that aches to be seen. What if we stayed in the discomfort, sat in hard conversations or with strange feelings to see what would happen next? What if lingering made the difference in a lasting friendship or…
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In-Between
Everything seems to work out in the end, but what about when it’s not the end? What about that uncomfortable place between here and there? Here we are in the middle, unsure of how this particular story ends: the one where our things are moved out of storage and into a new home. For now, we are at my in-laws…
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To you, Dadio
Where are you? When I’m angry at you for leaving. When a shit-storm is passing through our family and the world. When the comfort of home is far out of reach. When I look through hundreds of recent photos and you’re not in one. When nothing makes sense, nothing goes right and grief rages on. When a beautiful baby boy…
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Altered Latitude 