Not Better

There is this conversation I’ve had that has repeated itself several times over the past few weeks: Hey, how’s your sister doing?  Well, honestly, not good. Oh… Yeah, I mean, she’s better than she was two weeks ago but not better than she was when she first went into the hospital. So… …oh, wow. That … Continue reading


Dear Nora Rose, Today you are seven (7!). At times, I’m not sure how we’ve made it here except that it has to be on a wing and a prayer. I remember after you were born, how you were so drowsy, worn out from your brash entrance into the world, and I spent that first month, exhausted, trying … Continue reading

Samuel: A Love Story

I’ve told the story before but it bears repeating that I always knew Sam would come to me someday. Back in the years of longing for a child, aching with hope each month and then sinking with desperate disappointment when, again, I wasn’t pregnant, his was the face I saw. Or rather, the person I … Continue reading

Father’s Day

When I was a kid, my dad used to tell me: “Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.”  For a long time, I thought he came up with the phrase like he did the self-driving car (that I eventually realized he steered with his knee), but it turns out Eleanor … Continue reading

Holding Space

“A heart shattered in a thousand pieces…has more surface area.” -Gil Fronsdal This evening I drove downtown in a daze. The lights reflected on the wet surface of the road. I searched for a parking spot. Every space was full until finally, I noticed an empty one. I drove around the block and just as … Continue reading

A Letter To My Nora Rose

Dear Nora, This week you start kindergarten. Last night I lay in bed for a long time unable to sleep. I thought of you wearing your new “tan” (as you say) school uniform, sitting in that classroom, in that big new school with new teachers and new friends and new experiences and the image startled … Continue reading


Home is a funny thing. For me, as a child, there was first a place, a set of people: they were home. And home meant unbreakable, unshakeable, unwavering. And then it was gone. Broken, shaken, wavered. Later, as a teenager, I had it again for a while. Our home was ours. My room was my … Continue reading

Little Wild Horse

In the aftermath of these struggles with Nora when I am feeling bruised and beaten and drained of all resources, having dug deep into the dark recesses for any reserve patience I might have – that’s  when I remember my grandmothers, my great-grandmothers, my seven-year-old self. And when I remember, I realize that all of … Continue reading


There is nothing to write about and everything to write about. Most days lately I’m in awe of my life. I walk past my home and stop to admire it as though it were something I long for and then I realize – this – this is mine. While standing inside, I watch the light change … Continue reading