Posts tagged “Love

There Goes The Bride

Posted on June 25, 2014

A few weeks ago I was invited to write a post about marriage for #TheHereYear. The Here Year is a project/mission of Aidan Donnelley Rowley and Lindsey Mead, a 12-month long look at presence. Each month they select a different theme and riff on it and invite others to do so as well. It’s been fascinating to watch the posts, so many different stories and unique takes on being here, from an unflinching introspection on social media use, to touching on a subject they haven’t written about publicly, to stripping away everything but the truth. I was excited to participate, but as I mentioned in an earlier post, what I thought was, turned out not to have been at all—a bit like walking away from handing…

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Power of Two

Posted on September 18, 2013

“If it’s possible, Jeannie and I would like to talk to you and Sean about something tonight. Nothing bad. Happy news.” I’d been talking to Sean’s mom about various bus drop-offs and pick-ups when she asked. “Sure, we should be home around 8,” I told her. “Ok, sounds great. See you then,” she chirped. We’d driven to Saratoga earlier in the day and talked about the call. “Now, tell me again, how did she say it?” Sean asked me. “She just said that they’d been trying to find a time to talk to both of us, but that the four of us never seem to be around at the same time. She said it was happy news,” I shrugged. He didn’t say anything. The…

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Remnants

Posted on January 20, 2013

Before bedtime there is a rush to get washed up, each of the girls clambering for a spot at the counter. The stampede to the door is a blur of elbows and feet; neon peace signs, threadbare satin with tattered princess decals, big girl pajamas and nightgowns that have met their last hand-me-down. They wrestle for the tooth paste and vie for the tiny foot stool that is no longer needed. As they brush their teeth they make faces in the mirror, “Look, look, I have a beard” and “Do you see me, I’m a fancy wady with bwue wipstick?” The smack of bare feet on linoleum and boisterous calls of, “Here’s your tooth brush, baby” fill the upstairs. Sometimes I stand just outside…

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The Doing in I Do

Posted on December 14, 2012

This June Sean and I will celebrate 10 years of marriage. Seems impossible to believe, because I can still feel that June sun beating down on us as we stood before the minister. The crescendo of nursing, diapering, strollering and co-sleeping has quieted. They reach for their own cups, they read books to one another and have begun to slowly show signs of wanting us to take a step back. Somehow in parenting you develop the ability to recognize when a moment has come—to let go of the bike as they learn to pedal, to gracefully pass a glass and allow them to wobble and teeter their way to the table. We shift our grasp and at times actually let go. I don’t know that I…

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Aches

Posted on November 14, 2012

She writes from waiting rooms, literal and figurative. Her updates paint a portrait that but for a few brushstrokes could be my own. There isn’t a word she shares that doesn’t make me think—sometimes it’s Eugene in the late 70s, other times it’s different track meets for different high schools and other times still it is: Am I grateful enough? It’s morbid and pointless, but when someone is going through something you imagine what if it was me? Or maybe that’s just me. I find myself searching so deep, wishing for something else that I could do, some combination of words that might make her situation not so. Even this post, I struggle because is this self indulgent, does this help in any way?…

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