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Lilac Wine

My grandmother had twelve children, eleven of whom survived through infancy. She lived with an alcoholic husband, and dealt with all of the hardships that come with such a life; poverty, violence, heartache, fear, before finally realizing her power. Each May, she’s in my thoughts. Her birthday was the 17th and her favourite flowers were lilacs. Even after the polar spring we had, the lilacs are bursting forth, and my heart is full of Grandmaman. What would she say to me if she were here right now? She’d tell me to pray, because her faith was her shield. She’d tell… View Post

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I Never Realized Bodies

I know you want us to be friendly, to be dear to each other and recognize all that was ever good between us, But when I look at you, I see a thousand broken promises. I see trips we’ll never take, Quiet moments we’ll no longer share, The way our bodies will never meld together in that way I never realized bodies could. I see all of those things that were true for me, But never true for you. All of the words that were sacred on my tongue, Even when spoken in fear. I see the one, rare thing… View Post

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Single Mom, Day 1

Wednesday. My first day back in the house, solo with the kids. He was there. I hadn’t counted on that, and so I sat at the breakfast bar, head in my laptop, churning with a mixture of adoration and devastation. I held myself together until he walked out the door. Then, after my second cry of the day, it was quiet. The house was spotless and this was nice to come home to. I threw a frozen pizza in the oven so lunches would be covered in the morning. I worked steadily until the bus came, and went to meet… View Post

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The First Day of the Rest of My Life

Tuesday. When I imagine this day, I imagine sleeping in. Instead, my internal alarm wakes me at 6:30 in the morning, so I sit up in bed and write a chapter of the YA novel I’m drafting. The sound of the rain on the windows is so familiar. This is the house I grew up in and that distinct patter takes me back to afternoons spent alone in my room, writing in my diary and listening to the music that I loved. How many heartbreaks have I weathered in this place? I signed up for a month at the local… View Post

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Stranger

The morning we’d planned to talk to the kids, you stood in the doorway of our bedroom, staring at me. Your beautiful face, the one I’ve held in these hands and kissed a thousand times, was the face of a stranger. Tears streaming down your cheeks, you looked so fragile in your sorrow. What was in that look? Regret? Shame? Were you sorry that you’d fallen out of love with me? Sorry that we now had to tell our children? Were you worried that letting me go was a mistake? I’m not asking you to reconsider. I’ve laid my heart… View Post