Tag: relationships

Happy is a Razor

The tiny box of razor blades was right where I knew it would be, buried on the second shelf of the linen closet, amidst hotel bottles of shampoo and bubble packs of cold medicine. It was on my walk that it came to me.… Continue Reading “Happy is a Razor”

Happy Anniversary

When you are married 30 years, people clamor for the secret. That’s not true. No one’s asked. You have to be a 115-year Russian guy living in a sod hut on the windblown steppes to make folks curious about your claim to longevity. Yogurt,… Continue Reading “Happy Anniversary”

Say Goodbye

“You can’t come back here.” She stopped him on the road where he was creeping along in his old blue truck, and told him to roll down his window so he would hear exactly what she was saying. “You’re not welcome here. You need… Continue Reading “Say Goodbye”

A White Suit and a Wise Man

My story is about a present, not a Christmas present but an unforgettable present, one that has lived in infamy for twenty years. I bought my husband a white suit. You know, the kind of white suit that Panama Jack would wear with, of… Continue Reading “A White Suit and a Wise Man”

All Dolled Up

I shouted down the stairs to my husband, “Are you going to wear your Packer sweatshirt to the show?” It was just a question. I wasn’t insinuating that he should change. So what if we were taking our granddaughter to the symphony downtown at… Continue Reading “All Dolled Up”

Casting

If you married a man who was a fisherman, who fished not for single trout or salmon but for herds of whitefish which he then sold to stores and restaurants so tourists could enjoy an authentic Lake Superior meal, your whole life would smell… Continue Reading “Casting”

One Kiss

You only need one kiss.  On Mother’s Day.  Or any day. You don’t need dozens.  Just one. To kiss or be kissed.  It’s the same. That’s all you need.  Is one.

Paint It Red

I reached with my paintbrush for the tiny unpainted space between the two bedroom walls and the ceiling that the roller had missed, stretching my back and arm and holding the brush by its very tip to avoid having to step down from the… Continue Reading “Paint It Red”

Men We Love: A Domestic Violence Story: Part 1

Thirty years ago, I sat all night on the sofa in my upper Shorewood flat, smoking Benson & Hedges, with my mother’s green and orange afghan wrapped around my shoulders, waiting for my addicted, unpredictable, and sometimes violent boyfriend to pull up in front… Continue Reading “Men We Love: A Domestic Violence Story: Part 1”

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