Tag Archives: motherhood

The Neglected Slice

“I love you. You’re my breathing castle. Gentle, so gentle, We’ll live forever.” -Richard Brautigan I teach students how to write artist statements. I teach (TRY to teach) them how important voice is in writing, especially when writing to colleges who … Continue reading

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Dream a Little Dream of Me

Luke left home and I didn’t tell you. I left you hanging. I forgot, somehow, to mention that I cried all the way to the airport (tears triggered by this hug goodbye to Quinn): I cried so much when we … Continue reading

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Greta and the Angels

This has been the summer of many small deaths for me, some literal, some not. It has been one of many tears, of worry, of several hours of bad television. I have found a bit of comfort in feeling like my … Continue reading

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Nuns, Breast Cancer, and Advice at Nineteen; Surviving the In Between

Lolo had breast cancer. Twice. I was little the first time and it is the only time I remember my mother crying behind a locked bathroom door. My grandmother had a mastectomy and then spent the next two decades wearing … Continue reading

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Bye, Greta. Back to the Barn.

I always remember my principal’s birthday because it falls on the day that Lolo died and I remember scrolling through Facebook on that day and seeing well wishes mixed with grief. My childhood dog, Casey, also died in July, a … Continue reading

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A Time to Dance, A Time to Mourn

I skipped both birthday letters for my Spring babies. That is a first. Ever. I am either a horrible mother or I am paralyzed, still, with the waiting that comes prior to my eldest child leaving home. It’s like a … Continue reading

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Boy to Man

“Oh the power to be strong And the wisdom to be wise All these things will come to you in time On this journey that you’re making There’ll be answers that you’ll seek And it’s you who’ll climb the mountain … Continue reading

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Young Arts and My Covered Buttons

I was in fourth grade when my teacher, Sr. Joan, told me that the art of growing up meant learning to “cover your buttons.” She also told me that getting my period would mean that for the rest of my … Continue reading

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Good to You

“We were together. I forget the rest.” -Walt Whitman  We have been in school for two months now and it feels like a year already. Two months without drawing or writing or baking. Two months of chasing in a city that … Continue reading

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Eddie, Me, and the One Time I Never Spoke Up

I was seven when my parents transferred me to a private, mixed age level school. Before that, I went to a neighborhood school. The first time I remember actually feeling empathy mixed with fear was in kindergarten, when our fat, … Continue reading

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