Category: Mostly True Family Stories

Tiny Things Last

A tiny thing can last for years. The memory of it can be as fresh as the first second, the leaves on the bush as green, the soil underneath as loamy and dark and the tiny elves’ footprints as distinct. My brother would motion…

A Long Time Coming: Getting to Know My Father

It didn’t take long for my father to develop an email style. His very first email carried what would become his signature farewell. TIE. Take it easy. Sometimes he added SIT. Stay in touch. His emails were short, very factual, reporting on his bowling…

The Scary People are Coming to Dinner

The part about extending invitations to dinner is luscious.”Oh, you really must come, see our new kitchen.” Head toss, wave. The best feeling ever is when the event itself is a long ways off, a beautiful feast on the horizon, everyone well-coiffed, pleasant, and…

Elegy

Stand with 10,000 ghostsHear their last wordsHurrying to the riverRunning into the treesShedding this life for new Drop your envy and yearning on the groundNestle your love in the rocks’ mortarBe part of the wall that stays behindShelter the lost and the growingReach your…

My Mother’s Face

After my father died, I found this photo in his bedroom. It was leaning against the mirror of the vanity where my mother had sat painting her nails in a room dark except for the small lamp, her red nails gleaming in the dim…

The Searing Comfort of Layla

I spent the summer of 1973 sitting on a blanket atop the scorched brown grass behind our Flint townhouse, yards of black cord connected my bagel-size headphones to our stereo inside. I watched my eight-month old baby girl sit and crawl and eat the…

Sharing a Cell

All I can say is Thank God, after all these years, We still get along

Pandemic Marriage

Four kids, seven dogs Get the big bottle of rum I’ll wait in the car

Witness to Happiness

The man was jolly, like he’d changed out of his red suit a few days ago and now was just hanging out in Ocean Beach. Happy. Jovial. Smiling. Chatting. An ad for good humor. Or maybe delight. He seemed delighted. How many people do…

The Precious Routine of Life

We ate at seven because the store closed at six and it took my father time to empty the cash drawers, roll up the awning, double check all the doors including the big steel door in the back where we got the big shipment…

%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this: