father
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Homecoming
My dear brotherstands in the kitchenwith his brand new brideand her three beautiful children,faces the horrid awkwardnessof my fatherwho is rooted in the hallway beyond,where he appears to be glued to the floor,stuck in a morass of religious allegiancedespite the… 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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When I Lost My Parents
When I lost my parents(as in death, not in the grocery store)I questioned the purposeof their life's creative output: my mother's needlework; my father's woodworking; my mothers hand-written, stained recipe cards; my father's watercolor paintings of… Continue reading
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The Day My Father Died
The day my father diedthe snowman in the yard melted–one releasing warmth,the other absorbing it. Pale blue eyes slowly clouded,gazing at a bloodless blue wall;Corona-cap eyes rested on slush,gazing at a cloudless blue sky. One lay gray against a background… Continue reading
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Life Is Not Fair
1My father would halt meby looking over his half-glassesand precisely intoning:"Life is not fair,"a statement falling somewherebetween actuality and pathological avoidance. 2Already aware of the unfairnness of life,I wasn't looking for him to repair it,simply to acknowledge it–not the lack… Continue reading
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Three Dresser Drawers
She may take only what fits in three dresser drawers. Continue reading