My father would have been 76 today. One of the biggest challenges about my father, second only to being a passenger in the car he was driving, was buying him presents. Usually, we’d combine his […]
Tag Archives: death
once more to the attic
For the past couple of years, I’ve been writing what I call the Facebook Poems. I ask, as a status update, for my friends to submit words, and each supplies one until I cut the […]
rest her soul
For a little while yesterday, her body was shaped like a crescent in her bed beside the desk. I would stop my work and look at her and hold completely still and, unblinking, watch for […]
to sleep, perchance to dream
I haven’t slept in six months. If there wasn’t a dog beside my bed, snoring through thickened airways or panting heavily with pain or wandering the hallway, clunking the water bowl with her collar, pacing, […]
the queen of denial, part two
In the summer, we thought it might be time. Cleo was sleeping 23 hours a day, snoring loudly because of a thickening in her throat. She was suffering from arthritis, maybe a disc or other […]
queen of denial
I’m about to lose another pet—my fifth as an adult. Their pictures, two cats and two dogs, sit together on the fireplace mantel; the shot of Cleopatra sits at the other end, waiting to join […]
fact: everything dies, baby
for Sheri Granny died yesterday. So did Natasha Richardson. Whenever someone famous dies, I am torn between sadness for them and their families (and even a little bit of a pang of loss for me […]
how to lose
My friend, Jodi, lost her dog today. I felt a certain love for Molly because she looks like my Cleopatra, who is old and sometimes lame. I am always worried about my family’s fragility when […]