Photo: Brenda Anderson, Creative Commons, cc license Dear Jenny, You would have laughed this afternoon, and I think some did. With a bundle of purple lilacs in one hand and a bulky walkman cassette player in the other, I awkwardly flipped open the machine to turn my tape over. Slipping around under the black walkman…

Read More

Photo: Thomas Totz, Creative Commons cc license Banana muffins sheen from melted butter and I’m on my fourth one. Hot from the oven, they steam when opened and glisten moist on a hot muggy May afternoon. A friend has just left, our tea cups and dishes still line the counter. This afternoon, listening to my…

Read More

Photo: M. H. Anbinder, Creative Commons, cc license Every day he went to the Gate Beautiful. And I don’t know if he felt beautiful, but I know that he pulled his withered legs closer to him on the braided mat and he stared out. At the passing people who didn’t see him, at the passing…

Read More

Photo: Adikos, Creative Common, cc license  “Learn from my mistakes,” she wrote vulnerably. “I wish someone had shared this with me years ago.” I dished up a slice of sour cream lemon pie and poured the last marginally-hot dregs of coffee into my yellow and brown striped mug. Setting them beside the Ipad screenshot of…

Read More

Photo: Meena Kadri, Creative Commons, cc license Photo: Yulya Balaeva, Creative Commons, cc license She’s got it tattooed right up her arm, this mom friend I know. You can see it curving up through rust-colored vines. And I think of it this morning as I plunge hands into scalding hot dish water, and slide in…

Read More

 I remember when it switched. You had always been my comfort-Mom, the one I called upstairs late at night when my middle school friends and I had scared ourselves with sleepover ghost stories. Sara’s tales of a come-alive puppet proved too much for us that summer, and suddenly my five-foot tall rag doll Jenny was…

Read More

Photo Credit: Benson Kua, Creative Commons, cc license A lovely foreign-accented dark-haired woman with pale complexion and red lipstick clips words with a heavy tongue beside me, while an American businessman converses with her. They mention churches, the Basilica, nieces dancing in Hopkins, and a local pontoon party. I’ve finished my Sunday School lesson outline…

Read More