At Least They're Committed

Awake at 2:22 a.m., up at about 4, in the surgery prep room with your mom, Dez, at 5:30 a.m. The kind nurse prepping her says, “Do you want the implants?” Your mom and I are up too early, exhausted. I look at her and try to quickly and quietly interject . . . but… Read more

I gingerly navigated Grant Street, waiting for the light to cross 19th and then cross again. My feet hurt, but I’m not about to complain. I walk down the north side of 19th Street and start past the really cool looking, U-shaped, old, brick building with iron bars on the windows and a garden area with… Read more

Look, Dez! I made you chocolate chip cookies when you were visiting yesterday. I cut the sugar back by one-third, which must have been OK with you because you ate two. The house smelled yummy and I was all proud of myself for being all stereotypical and grandmotherly and shit! 🙂 Read more

I playfully poke at you and most times I can’t explain why. My mood and tone shift to extremes, to where you can’t help but wonder if I’m the same person or what the hell is going on. I’m confident, then terrified. Smooth and then hedgy; cool then awkward. I step out of bounds, don’t know my place,… Read more

“Ooooh, it’s a mystery! What fun.” He makes a noise that’s half snicker, half scoff and half cough. (Yes, three halves.) “Whoever was on here last night searched for the name ‘Kevin,’” I say. “Ah,” he says. “But why? That’s ever-so intriguing, don’t you think?” “I’m not intrigued, but I will say it’s a tad… Read more

Sometimes I feel like I’m something else entirely and that I just can’t figure out what it is. At times like this, when something horrible has happened to our children once again, I feel frustrated and trapped by this body because I’m pretty sure I could be of service were I free of it. Read more