• family

    advent journal: legacy

    by  • December 11, 2013 • advent journal, family, grief • 9 Comments

    At certain intersections of my life I have been aware of a clear memory of my father at my age. When I turned forty-one, I could remember Dad at that age because of one the persistent fragments of memory was the birthday card I wrote for him that year: life begins at forty at...

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    remnants

    by  • November 22, 2013 • community, durham, family, food, home, poetry • 4 Comments

    it is the morning of the next day — I have come down- stairs to the kitchen to make coffee . . . the room still smells of pork chops and laughter; the empty glasses — both wine and water — stand like a skyline on the old farm table that soaked it all...

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    fall classic

    by  • October 26, 2013 • baseball, family, grief, poetry • 9 Comments

    forty-seven octobers ago i was eleven dad was thirty-nine and we lived in a shotgun apartment for missionaries who had come home from the field . . .   I didn’t know much about america, but I loved the boston red sox though we had never been to boston in the fall and I...

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    learning to live with and without

    by  • August 19, 2013 • family, grief • 21 Comments

    One afternoon, when I was in fifth grade, my father bent down to pick up an ice cream freezer in the carport of our home in Lusaka, Zambia. The freezer was well-used and I have fond memories of sitting on a towel folded across the top of the gears as Dad cranked the handle...

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    missing

    by  • August 14, 2013 • family, grief, poetry • 7 Comments

    the first poem I learned was for my father and was the first poem he ever learned: missing has anybody seen my mouse? I opened his box for just a minute just to make sure he was really in it and while I was looking he jumped outside I tried to catch him, I...

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    stories and supper

    by  • October 17, 2012 • family, food, keeping the feast, stories • 1 Comment

    A friend of mine had this little poster on her Facebook page this morning. It showed up on the heels of a conversation at work last night about the nature of atoms and how much space there is in them. (I didn’t understand everything, but I did listen.) One of my colleagues said, “Atoms...

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