In 2014, my son Sage was struggling. He was angry and depressed. He was thinking about dropping out of school. In spite of supportive teachers and parents that loved him, he was turning in to someone I didn’t know. He was suddenly belligerent and disrespectful. I paid extra attention to him. I took him to … Continue reading October
I keep thinking it will get better. When I take Jude back, back to the place where strangers care for him, lovely, kind people, but strangers nonetheless. I hate it. I hate myself for not being able to care for him by myself, not being what he needs now, not being able to parent him … Continue reading Bring It On
I have it all laid out on the table. Syringe, butterfly needle, alcohol swabs and a bottle of seven thousand dollar medicine on a sterile drape. We have a tourniquet, and we have sung the ABC’s while washing our hands. Time for an infusion. Sage had a fistula, an artificial vein that made it easy … Continue reading The Weight
Driving home from radiation treatments, I made him swear to haunt me. “Swear.” “I swear!” “No, I mean, really swear. Don’t get to heaven and get all happy and rapturous and busy talking to Mother Theresa and John Lennon and forget.” “You think John Lennon is in heaven?” I look at him over my glasses. … Continue reading Paranormal Activity
Widow Hill 