Tag Archives: writing

The fallow to the harrow/Let me cry

I’ve used this face before. It is the careworn defiance face, a self-portrait of the wife of the patient, taken mid-December 2011.  Mark and I had been through hell, and we were so tired. If we’d known how few rivers we … Continue reading

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Exploding St. Paul

  I just found out that St. Paul Hospital is coming down. The implosion is set for 8 a.m. tomorrow.  My son wants to drive into Dallas and watch it fall. I’m on the fence. Mark died at St. Paul. … Continue reading

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Champagne/real pain

And what to do with this? The champagne that I’d bought to celebrate the end of treatments and Mark’s victory over cancer. Representative of failure, a moment in the grocery store and my sudden, half-assed attempt to rouse his spirits … Continue reading

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Whatever is true

I had a great birthday. Birthdays are not my thing. I don’t handle them well. From childhood on, the days leading up to my August birthday have always been a minefield of hurt feelings. I become hypersensitive (more than usual), … Continue reading

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The Feels

. March 20th: Lent is here, and the second anniversary of Mark’s death is only two days away. It’s just a date, just numbers. But man, they carry such weight. The approach of the anniversary makes for an intense time, … Continue reading

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Aside from that Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?

Summer is here, but summer vacation has gone the way of the dinosaurs. So, my teenage sons are spending way too many hours at home alone, on the computer, while I run to one job from the other. Poor dudes … Continue reading

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Day After Fall Apart Day

face down sadder and wiser again and grateful for the rain as it finally fell to earth to me and maketh me lie down in the wet grass and submit to gravity reality gravity and surely this is the bottom … Continue reading

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