Susan’s mom died last week. It came out of nowhere. Jeanne was well, grocery shopping at Giant with Susan’s father. Her energy dragged. She sat on a wooden bench by the pharmacy while Al finished gathering the groceries. It’s been a rough year for her. Bouts of confusion led doctors to suspect seizure activity. She … Continue reading Loss
Grief
Molly’s Lips
We are the new AmericanaHigh on legal marijuanaRaised on Biggie* and NirvanaWe are the new Americana — Lyrics from New Americana by Halsey (2015) August 10, 1995 “Hey Tiffany, I’m really sorry to hear that Jerry Garcia+ died.” “Thanks, Jeff. It’s such a shock.” “Yeah, I remember how I felt the day Kurt Cobain++ died.” … Continue reading Molly’s Lips
Twilight Zone
Diane died yesterday. Diane is my stepmother, was. Or maybe ‘my father’s wife’ is a better description. They dated and then married while I was in my thirties, long after I needed mothering. Sort of—an adult, obviously, but still immature. At the family dinner the night before their wedding, I toasted my wicked stepmother, … Continue reading Twilight Zone
Reentry into the World
Morning: My brain says get out and run. My body doesn’t move. The temperature dropped—forty-nine and windy, overcast, damp, gray. A step backwards, as if winter isn’t quite done with us, wearing us down, reeling us in. I prefer yesterday—sunny, breezy, seventy. A perfect day, but I didn’t run. I went to the YWCA spin-a-thon … Continue reading Reentry into the World
Brushing
Facebook message from Mary: Jeff, I feel an urge to write. Can you help me or recommend someone else who can? She recently lost someone—a shocking, heart-wrenching, premature death. Writing helps corral her thoughts. Flattering. Mary thinks I’m a writer. I responded with an email: I'm happy to pass on what I know—the basics. Here … Continue reading Brushing
Dancing with Tears in My Eyes
“Dancing with tears in my eyes, cause the girl in my arms isn’t you, dancing with somebody new, when it’s you that my arms are calling to. I’m trying to smile, once in a while but I found it wouldn’t do. Dancing with tears in my eyes, cause the girl in my arms isn’t you.” … Continue reading Dancing with Tears in My Eyes
Death and the Blogger
It might be over—my three year run. My alter-ego as a blogger, a writer. Three years: daily, I opened my laptop and pounded out my thoughts—stream of consciousness—into small stories extracted from my life. Stories of triumph or regret. Running, mental health, parenting and alcoholism. Bitching, left wing commentary and pointless, over-thought drivel. Artistic and … Continue reading Death and the Blogger
The Other Stuff 