The door opened. I found myself checking for him unexpectedly. Throughout the holidays, I felt his presence with me as I shopped and walked..
I am fairly certain I am “messing up” as I light the menorah. (Do I allow the shamash to keep burning?) But I learn a bit more each year..(the answer is ‘yes’)
The Sword Mother
“Do you remember it? Do you remember the sword and it’s sheath? Do you remember the carvings?”
Speaking of Swords.
…her brutal truths and long silences which she would wield as weaponry, had been ground down, curved softly into conscious wisdom.
The Speaking Sword
… I see her smile in her dreams. For once, all seems quiet and gentle. And consistent. I would have reprieves of such times in the past, but they would disappear as a flicker in the wind.
The Lake of Ghosts
I painted the waves with the pen of my memories..
A Skull Innocuous
Under make-up and skin; beside the jewelry and clothes; this is what I am. This is my truth…
What would your father say?
After teasing me about the possible content of a few chapters…
Thank you, Mom!
Lard and tablespoons of the iciest tap water are two of the four ingredients of the best pie crust recipe…each time I create pies, I hear her reminders as I blend her crust recipe.
I had played with the painting of them..the browns of deep cocoa, the solemn grays like those which color a uniform..instead I searched. And I drove to search…