family
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Grandmother’s Farmhouse
After she died,grandmother's farmhouse–without anyone's intending it–evolved into a shrine,a monument to our lost history. Untouched, year upon year,it dusted over,much like, every week,the oak table that anchored the kitchendusted over with flour on baking day–only everywhere now–thick on painted window… Continue reading
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Greasing the Skids
"Grease the skids,"said his father. He had no ideawhat skids were,or where or how to grease them,or what relevance either grease or skids hadto his current problem. His father was proneto sudden, short and seemingly certain solutionsto any problem,all of… Continue reading
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Pink
He walked out of his bedroomwearing his pink sweatshirt.At age five, it was his favorite. "He's wearing pink,"said his grandfather. "Yes," said the boy's mother."He likes pink.It's his favorite color." "But it's pink." "Yes, it's pink."the boy walked past themand… Continue reading
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What the Cats Might Know
Do my cats understandthey're adopted? Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading
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The Table
Stop wrestling with love,and let it win.Cry "Uncle!"and come join the family. There's a table already laid,large and laden for the lot of us. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading
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The Dream
I am in my childhood home–but larger–its many rooms running parallel to the lakeshore. I step into the final room,where a young woman and I nearly collide:she is 20ish, thin, with long hair.Startled, she screams;startled, I jump, wonder,"Who are you?… Continue reading
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Morning Ritual
Romeo, one of our two black Mumbai cats, walks over to his brother Willy, already stretched on the carpet in front of me. Romeo, too, lies down, and nestles his head into his brother's–Willy starts grooming him, throwing one front… Continue reading
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On the Evening Train
On the evening train,rocking, rattling in darkness,escaping the confines of the city:old man scowling at the business section of the paper;weary woman staring at the floor after a day of changing sheets and wiping out tubs;young man with tattooed sleeves meeting rebounding glances… Continue reading
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Altars
Every familypractices its own, unique religion,builds altars to a variety of gods,who nest and nestlewherever we focus our energy, our passion. To whom do we bow today? Text and image © 2011 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading
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Amazing Grace 1
Nancy's favorite hymn,"Amazing Grace,"was what she wanted sungat her funeral. Several days after her deaththe family sat downwith a patient funeral directorto settle on the details. "No," my father said,"That's such a cliche;there are better hymns." No doubt there are,and… Continue reading