When the Walls Come Apart

You carry epoxy in your pocket for when the walls come apart. Fissures travel the white plaster–map lines mark each one of your breakdowns, and often in the dark you count them all. I’ve been inside. I have seen the aftermath of walls coming apart. It’s with great honor I behold your strength.    Continue reading “When the Walls Come Apart”

I Know Why

Growing up, I raised an alcoholic mother. I did my best, but often failed to keep her safe–to keep her free of angry, intoxicated hands. And I listened to her, a dutiful counselor; too bad she seldom accepted my advice. It’s because of my relationship with my mother that I became interested in psychology asContinue reading “I Know Why”

A Brief Memoir About Guilt

I still think about that Father’s Day weekend. I still feel the guilt. I still cry. I was twelve, living in a dirty trailer park with my mother, and seven year old sister. Dad arrived promptly on Friday evening to pick up me and Tara–from his place to ours, the drive was just over anContinue reading “A Brief Memoir About Guilt”

a brief memoir about indestructible forces

We were poor people. My mother didn’t work, as she was busy raising me (and my sister once she was born in 1983). My dad has never not worked, that is to say I don’t know if he has ever been an unemployment benefit recipient. I only know my dad has always gone some placeContinue reading “a brief memoir about indestructible forces”

…being the way you are: a brief memoir for my daughter

  I wasn’t surprised. I already had a sense of you, but still, when I found out about you for sure, your existence eviscerated me. The confirmation was just so heart sickening. I stood there in the bathroom staring at that stupid stick. Who I was, the things that I had done, the things thatContinue reading “…being the way you are: a brief memoir for my daughter”