Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Tag: grief
Grief Note
In the pantheon of weird life experiences comes this: I just mailed a one sentence note to my sister telling her our brother died late in January. The gravity of the message required that I drive the note to the downtown post office to… Continue Reading “Grief Note”
The White Binder
My brother had our parents’ stuff laid out like a well-organized garage sale with no price tags. Relatives were picking up and putting down my mother’s costume jewelry which was arranged in rows on the basement ping pong table. I found a locket that… Continue Reading “The White Binder”
Book Mark
When my friends’ son died by suicide, I bought them a book. I can remember standing in a bookstore near the San Diego harbor, pulling book after book off the shelf, looking for just the right one that would speak to my friends’ terrible… Continue Reading “Book Mark”
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… Continue Reading “My Mother’s Face”
Failure of Imagination
Last night I dreamed I drowned. No. I dreamed I was writing a story about my drowning. But the details of it were so vivid, red in their terror, that I would have had to actually drown to know how to describe drowning so… Continue Reading “Failure of Imagination”
Good Luck to Me
I’m wondering if it’s a mistake that my husband’s my best friend. I see that in obituaries all the time. The surviving spouse talking about how he or she lost their best friend and I think isn’t it enough that you lost your spouse?… Continue Reading “Good Luck to Me”
Broken and Lost Things
I wait for loss. I put my hand to my neck a dozen times a day to feel the chain that holds my mother’s wedding ring. The ring is gold and very thin. If it was thinner, it would be a strand of my… Continue Reading “Broken and Lost Things”
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… Continue Reading “My Mother’s Face”
Listen to Jan read her essay “Billy” presented on WUWM’s Lake Effect.
Jan’s essay “At the Breakfast Bar” on WUWM Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “The Parish Hall,” on WUWM Lake Effect May 27, 2020
“Fury Cannot Touch Me,” Modern Love, NYT, 9/29/11
