Tag: Family

Are We Not Exhausted?

Monday is the worst day. Monday is marriage counseling day. Monday, my husband and I go into another world. It feels decades removed from where we live today. The smell is musty like a morgue for dead marriages. Maybe some has survived, but I can’t get a comforting sense there’s been a lot of success in the room with opposing…

3… 2… 1… Reconciliation.

Three: A child, a mother, and a father are a family. The child, barely 4 years-old, can’t understand why their home is suddenly turned upside down, and shaken brutally like a snow globe. The white flakes covering each person. No one can walk comfortably or unscathed inside the bubble. Tip. Toe. Eggshell. There is sadness in their lives. It’s the…

Appalachian Grit

“Hey, Punk, I feel like bleeding tonight.”  Strip it away. Strip away the perception. Rip out the fake hair. Wash away the conditioned, weathered face. Can you see my dark spots? I’ve been living too close to the sun. Burnt up by rays scorching my freckled lace shoulders. Posting filtered images with fake smiles. Trying to paint over those Prozac…

I Want To Write Something Beautiful

Each day is growing darker a minute sooner. The leaves are changing and a chill has arrived, soon there will be a brief last gasp of summer. We always have those last few warm days here. It is the finale to our summer season. Halloween is inching closer and children will dress in their costumes while walking door to door…

My 1980’s Memoir Mix

Over 30 years ago in the month of March, a little girl was born with Bette Davis’ eyes on Friday the 13th. The golden hair, precocious child would be walking by the following year. In Ashland, Kentucky, she would stand facing a tall wooden fence with one determination. She had an eye of the tiger, and knew delicious blackberries awaited…

Table for One

A Thanksgiving memory from the time when addiction caused alienation. No family gathered around a table. A crock pot Turkey breast combined with scarce side dishes was my Thanksgiving menu. Man’s best friend was my only companion while I prepared a feast for one. I held the beloved Rottweiler close as floats danced on the television celebrating the Macy’s tradition.…

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