transformation

  • a fire that doesn’t go out

    I’ve said before that there are days when I can barely handle the world. At least, not the whole thing all at once. Including the hateful parts, the misogyny, the brutal disregard by the powerful of the powerless. Sometimes, I… Continue reading

  • about mothers

    This is the thing about mothers…. Even as a small child some of us will understand that our mothers have secrets. Longings and hidden sadnesses. Silent sorrows and quiet pains. Some of those things will only ever be told to… Continue reading

  • the blue house

    A poem I haven’t thought of in some time has been hanging around me the past few days. Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe it’s a message. It turned up for me again this week as I was doing some research.… Continue reading

  • house of cards

    It was a house of cards. Everyone was busy playing their hand. We took our own deck, a bottle of wine and a corner table. At the end of that night, the bottle was empty. Everyone was gone. And there… Continue reading

  • the telling

    For some reason — I don’t remember why — same-sex marriage had been in the news around June of 2012. That Sunday night, as I grappled with what my own coming out story would be, we talked about it at… Continue reading

  • baggage claim

    I couldn’t have known it that night I found myself laying on the carpeted floor of the basement in our old house on Catherine Street – with the land line pressed hard against my ear – that you and I… Continue reading

  • on being 50

    I’m turning 50 later this week. People who know this seem to be approaching me cautiously wondering how I’m “taking it.” I’m taking it like the par-tay that it is. Like, I’m not getting senior discounts yet, but I know… Continue reading

  • this one’s for the girls

    I’ve been noticing a trend in my Facebook newsfeed lately. It seems like many of my female friends are on the precipice of transformation. Or reinvention. Or something – hard or beautiful, or both – that’s about to see you… Continue reading

  • lost in the right direction

    The surgeon, who for some reason felt the need to tell me she was originally from Kentucky, leaned down as I lay on the operating table in a pretty comfortable stupor and asked: “Do you make a habit of holding… Continue reading