grief

Spirals and Mechanical Pens


I have always loved getting ready for the first day of school. There is nothing quite so wonderful as wandering up and down the aisles of Target with a school supply list and choosing just the right tools for a successful academic year. Binders and dividers or pocket folders? College or school ruled? Mechanical or wood? Crayons or markers?

As a child and as a teacher, I felt the same eagerness for the first day, carefully preparing and arming myself for the new year. There are few things that match the promise of an empty spiral. Clean and neatly rowed. Waiting for the thought that will transform it. Read Full Article

Widow Crushes


The first time I fell in love I was five years old. His name was Steve, and we were in Miss Smith’s morning kindergarten class together. A pixie of a boy, I can still picture him. He had these gorgeous brown eyes. The eyes have always had it in for me. Window to the soul perhaps, but my Achilles’ heel since day one. We played tag. He was the only boy I couldn’t catch. My other weak spot. A man who was unavailable.

I have long since stopped chasing men. If they don’t stop, it’s because they really aren’t that into you. But I haven’t yet managed to avoid being sucked in by a sexy set of peepers. And it’s not the color, the shape, or face they inhabit that make someone’s eyes so alluring.

The last pair of eyes to suck me in defied my ability to color code. The furtiveness of the glances made it difficult to catch them out. It was nice to be the object of a man’s interest again, but despite my best efforts since, it has gone nowhere, and I am disappointed. Read Full Article

Neighbors in Suburbia


Found an aynonomous note in my mailbox this afternoon. One of the neighbors was unhappy with the grass growing in the cracks of the driveway and weeds by the mailbox. Truthfully, they were in need of attention, and I had planned to take care of them this last Thursday when I mowed the lawn, but I was so swamped with stuff to do because I am starting work again next week that I forgot.

The note told me I should take better care of my property and that they had called the city to report me. Okay. Why call the city before reminding me first? I don’t know my neighbors really. We had just moved in here when my hsband was diagnosed with his illness. Because his brain was greatly affected his behavior was very strange – not dangerous – but odd – and the neighbors sorta shunned us. The people on either side of me know that he has since died, but I don’t know if anyone else does. Read Full Article