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Some people embody placeholders. They see themselves as having no purpose, no fate that betters the world. That their purpose is to just keep quiet, keep moving, have a couple of children, make money to feed their family, and just be. Their subsistence and distractions are their definition of happiness. Perhaps those babies will grow…
Fiona was inconsolable with her self-pity after her recent round of shots. I thought she needed them for Pre-K but it seems we got them a year earlier than necessary. They’re done now. And those band-aids that I couldn’t remove from her thighs for days were proof that she wasn’t brave. Don’t even suggest it…
First published in August of 2009, I was reminded of this piece because today, November 15, is the Great American Smokeout . I used to hate this day back then as any addict would hate the mention of giving up their drug of choice. Happily, I wont birth this baby in a cloud of smoke…
Perseverance. Stubborn single-mindedness. That’s what I can be made of. Holding on until the knuckles whiten. A first marriage that went on and on. Self definitions playing out beyond a comfortable exit. A shop that was opened at exactly the wrong time but stayed open for a year and a half. We all are guilty…
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