Entries Tagged as 'JustWrite'

Tuesday, July 26th, 2016

Sidelines

He ran away from me on the playground on Saturday morning at the kindergarten meet up, no goodbye or hugging my legs or telling me he needs his warm-up time. I’ve been waiting for this moment for months now – for him to feel more independent and comfortable in his own skin. I’ve sat on […]

Wednesday, June 10th, 2015

Transparently Smitten

“He is transparently smitten with her; he is comic and tragic in his hopeless love. He makes her think sometimes of a mouse singing amorous ballads under the window of a giantess.” –The Hours   He wraps his arms around me as tightly as he can. His legs too. “I don’t want you to go,” […]

Tuesday, March 24th, 2015

Merely Herself

“She may pick up her pen and follow it with her hand as it moves across the paper; she may pick up her pen and find that she’s merely herself, a woman in a housecoat holding a pen, afraid and uncertain, only mildly competent, with no idea about where to begin or what to write.” […]

Tuesday, January 20th, 2015

Reflections

Somehow a few weeks ago I realized that my hotmail account that I refuse to give up is older than my oldest students. How could that happen, we all wondered? How am I that old? They insisted I look young, that there’s no way my first email account was established before they were born. I still feel […]

Tuesday, November 18th, 2014

Retraining

“No pleasure could equal, she thought, straightening the chairs, pushing in one book on the shelf, this having done with the triumphs of youth, lost herself in the process of living, to find it, with a shock of delight, as the sun rose, as the day sank.” — Mrs. Dalloway I’m retraining myself.  I stopped […]

Tuesday, November 4th, 2014

Flying

In June, as we drove across the country, he incessantly talked of flying. He was sure he could do it if he reached deep enough for the power all of his beloved superheroes possessed. “I’m going to fly,” he would say over and over again. At night he would jump onto the beds, arms stretched […]

Tuesday, October 21st, 2014

Blank

I’ve been staring at this blank screen for too long. I’ve flipped the pages of my worn and marked Mrs. Dalloway book for inspiration, scrolled through my photos to see what story I’ve lived that I haven’t yet written. I type and then I delete and the screen is blank again. I’m not sure what […]

Monday, September 8th, 2014

Turning It Round In the Light

“…the power of taking hold of experience, of turning it round, slowly, in the light.” — Mrs. Dalloway I make lunches at night now. For six years I’ve resisted spreading peanut butter on bread, pouring goldfish into bags, cutting fruit into bite-sized pieces every evening. I know why. It feels a bit like torture. I […]

Monday, August 4th, 2014

Ordinary Truth

“…and now and again some chime (it might be a motor horn) tinkling divinely on the grass stalks-all of this, calm and reasonable as it was, made out of ordinary things as it was, was the truth now…” –Mrs. Dalloway He’s three and he makes up his own truth. He can fly. He’s a good […]

Thursday, July 24th, 2014

Gifts From A Mother Who Remembers

I was feeling overwhelmed. By the return to reality from a long vacation. By the quick return to work, putting in longer hours than I do during the school year. By the mess of still unpacked bags. By other people’s actions I wish I could control, other people’s hurt that quickly became mine too. By […]

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