The Meaning of Compassion
The Kuan Yin She keeps watch in the warm corner of my bedroom, her bearing almost more regal for the rivers of cracks and generous chips that mark her faded turquoise. Her right hand, the…
Little Things
It was, in my home, an ordinary weekend morning. I rose before him, he before her, the felines were fed. I made three different kinds of tea, two prepared with stevia and soymilk, one with…
MelindaOctober 15, 2018
Fat on Silence
I need to write it down. I should do this before true memory fades and is replaced, as it so often is, by a recall that looks like The way I wanted it to…
MelindaSeptember 18, 2018
SHE and DOE
It was a few years ago that I found myself meandering in a quaint little town in western Massachusetts, about two hours east of home. I saw the…
MelindaSeptember 8, 2018
Mothering Outside the Lines
The Bus Stop Moms From my morning window I would watch as they huddled casually, tossed light conversation back and forth, an occasional eye towards their kids who played and laughed together, finding sticks, tracing…
MelindaAugust 1, 2018
Rocking the cosmic swirl
Rocking It comforts me to know the old couple across the street just celebrated fifty years in the same house. Fifty together years with the home they perhaps chose to be new in together, a…
MelindaJune 19, 2018
Today’s Truth
We all have challenges, right? Bink has rocky periods, when her anxiety rises and OCD rears its particularly ugly head. There is no easy or quick fix for these times, though we try many things.…
MelindaMay 10, 2018
Questions, Questions, Everywhere
When Bink was young, I didn’t know if she’d ever be able to ask questions. She had words at age three and four, five and six, but not in a conversational way. She didn’t…
MelindaMay 2, 2018