In Search of Home

How does one define “home” in the absence of parents? Where do we go for the holidays? For long weekends away? Who do I send pictures of my child to? Who do we FaceTime with every day at Noon? Who will call to ask what time we’ll be “hitting the road” to drive to their place?

And who will insist on a phone call “just to let me know you got back ok” when we return? And who will ever again eagerly await our arrival and welcome us with arms open so wide that just the image of them standing there was my very definition of “home”?

My parents tethered me to the earth, and I feel like I’m going to float away without them.

On Loss

It’s been six months since my father left this plane of existence — and five days since my mother joined him. Grief has compounded grief, and I feel the overwhelming weight of emptiness as I remember the last time they filled a hallway together.

A Celebration of Life

The world is burning and people are dying but we took this one day to celebrate life.

She’s lost a grandpa and a great uncle this year. She had her first year of preschool interrupted by the coronavirus. She hasn’t played with a friend in 10 weeks or hugged her high-risk grandma in 12. The last time she saw most of her cousins was at her grandfather’s funeral.

She’d been looking forward to a big party with friends and family for the first time in her short life, but she accepted the sad reality we’re in.

So when she asked for a unicorn birthday cake, you can bet I stayed up until 2:30 a.m. making the cake — and decorating for a party of 3 as though it was the party of her dreams.

Lonesome Dove Redux

The lone dove lost her mate a couple years ago — the image of her guarding his lifeless body is one I cannot shake (no matter how hard I try). She now hangs out with two others; sometimes they tolerate her. Others, they distance themselves whenever she approaches.

Moments before I took this photo, they were resting three in a row. But in the few seconds it took for me to retrieve my camera, the pair took one simultaneous shake of their wings and “hopped” one wire over, leaving the widow alone in their wake.

Shopping in the Time of Corona

Anyone else experience serious anxiety just thinking about going to the grocery store? We’re running low on a few things, and I went to bed knowing I’d need to go shopping today. I had grocery-related nightmares. All. Night. Long.

Nothing but broken eggs. Only one package of TP (and it’s open, dirty, missing rolls — and still being fought over). No cooking oil, no flour, no yeast. Masked customers shaming me for not having one (and me trying to fend them off while explaining I can’t sew).

Unmasked customers heckling me for wearing a makeshift one (it appeared out of thin air, y’all). “You know those don’t really help, right?” they say with a smirk.

And then waking up in a sweat and realizing, with horror, that my dream wasn’t far off from the potential reality. I’ll be heading out soon. Cover me.