To my dearest Kaia, I know you long for the letters to make sense, to unite themselves and speak to you. I know each syllable is a battle for you and I see you fighting. By the time you are able to read this well, you will have won the battle. You will have put in the hours of tracing your finger along the page and sounding out each painstaking phonics rule with your brows knit tight and the corner of your lower lip tucked between your teeth. You will have arranged letter tiles, your tiny …
dreams
For All Who Hurt with Nothing Left: A Grace Table Post
I was a week past deadline on this post. I sat at the keyboard for two days straight while fever swallowed up my hours and I mopped up my nose with a growing pile of tissues, gathering like soggy clouds in my wastebasket. And my fingers hovered over the keys. Backspace gobbled up my words faster than I could get them down and I must have started five or six posts before the letters trailed off and got stringy and anemic like my story was being siphoned off and stolen away. I wanted to blame it …
A Prayer for the Weary Ones
I spent the morning flat on my back in my bed, pain radiating from hip to shoulder and every movement worsened by the limbs of a small child pressed into my ribs. He had crept in sometime in the early morning hours when the world was still tucked gently under darkness like a warm comforter. I don’t know if it was a nightmare that spooked him but I lifted the blanket like an invitation and he scampered up my side and nestled in. Around 3 am, I heard the moaning, that deep guttural pain that …
