The Hands You Cannot See
When a thirteen-month-old knocks a glass off the table and it breaks on the floor, the first reaction might be fear or anger, but punishing him would be
relationships
The Past You Brought Into the Room
On my usual dog walk route, there are six tennis courts, pressed right up against the fence, and I am fairly sure every child on them could beat me. Every
Unweighted
People like to say nobody is ready to be a parent. They are right, but only about stuff like how to change a diaper or how to function on a
The State I Was In
Over 40 years ago, my grandparents built a vacation house near a natural spring where a pool complex was built. A month ago, I took my son there to have
Forty jumps
A couple of weeks ago, I took my son to a park with a small stage, maybe a meter high. He saw kids running and tumbling up there, and he
Thirty Minutes
She gave me thirty minutes of everything that was wrong with me. I took all of it. She wasn't attacking me. She was falling apart near me.
"I'm Good"
A friend used "I'm good" the way people say it to strangers. Smooth, final, polished by repetition. It kept him protected, but also unreachable.
The Sloth on the Books
I drew my father as a sloth on a stack of books. He laughed and hung it up. Only later did I realize the drawing was about me too.
The Answer I Didn't Want
During a psilocybin trip I kept repeating one sentence. It sounded like something you'd find on a candle. I spent years resisting it.
The Only Passenger
First Christmas after my divorce. Empty bus, only passenger, forty minutes through a quiet city. I wasn't heartbroken. That confused me.