i do not recognize her, the round-cheeked, round-bellied zombie with the sad eyes who catches my gaze in windows, cars, and medicine cabinets these days. she is run ragged thick-jowled, furrow-browed, angry. she carries a grief backpack loaded with wet rocks, the extra weight causing poor posture and a misaligned hip. she says things like… Continue reading untitled
Hey Mom- It’s triple digit weather in Fresno and I have no central air. If you were alive, I probably would have stayed at your place this weekend. I would have earned brownie points, driving you to breakfast at Jeb’s, maybe taking you antique shopping in Hanford. I would have helped you look for… Continue reading Arroyo Grande
Depression and anxiety are as much a part of my genes as blue eyes and big jowls and chin dimples. The cycle through mountains and valleys of temperament, the weight of panic that sometimes feels like a Giles Corey-style boulder to the chest, the bouts of tears and the seasons of numbness are all… Continue reading treading water in the ocean above a shark in a monster storm with no land in sight
Dear Mama White, You’ve been gone a little over three months now. Everyone told me things would get easier. Maybe that is something that will come later on. For now, it feels as though every day gets harder still. I remain so, so, so tired. Relief has yet to show up in any capacity at all. I am physically… Continue reading Motherless Days
We’re a little over a month out from mom’s death. I had planned on writing something on the exact anniversary of her passing- March 7th- but I was too bogged down in sadness to squeeze any blood (words) from that turnip (my brain). In fact, lately a lot of my planning has not worked out… Continue reading The World Spins Madly On
Mom passed away on February 7th. Everyone has been listing her time of death as 4:08pm but it was actually closer to 4:12 pm. I don’t know why I need to clarify that, but those last four minutes mattered. We were there. I was holding her hand. I still remember the wet faces of my… Continue reading epilogue
Mom has been in a semi-comatose state ever since Wednesday evening. She’s at home, in bed, (mostly) peacefully resting. Mostly unconscious and unresponsive. Dying, in other words. It’s something we all knew was coming. Especially during this last month, when her decline suddenly surged from a slow and steady deterioration to noticeable changes with every visit. The last… Continue reading Waiting To Die.