I miss you, the talks, the laughs, but we made a wrong turn. I said from the beginning we'd never take that road, but men are too proud to listen to directions. I wanted more, not less, just to love you, have you whole. Why mess things up with the muddy version of love, the wars and sex weapons? I wanted to take another road but you were running ahead of me so I followed, afraid I'd lose you. Then there was the clearing and the circle of trees staring down at us and nowhere else to go...
Added by Teresa on April 27, 2011 at 9:00pm —
"That was my Norma on the phone and she wanted to know if you received the prayers."
"Prayers... like in an email?"
The Beast contorts his face, exasperated with the daughter-in-law who just doesn't get it, "I don't know how she sent them but she said you need to write them down and pray them every day."
Norma is his thirty-seven year-old daughter and these prayers are meant for my four year-old son, to cure… Continue
Added by Teresa on April 25, 2011 at 10:30am —
"Who were you talking to on the phone?"
"Just my dad."
"What's new with him?"
An hour of silence passes, something hidden climbs my walls so I ask, "Are we having c0mpany this weekend?"
"Just my dad."
*He's done it again, invited the BEAST for the weekend without telling me and if I hadn't asked I'd have found the little green suitcase as a… Continue
Added by Teresa on April 22, 2011 at 8:43pm —
I never knew Jane Stewart so I had to ask, "Is this Jane in the giant bunny costume?" Then there was the photo of Jane in Roadrunner pajamas beside a griddle of pancakes for a group of sticky-faced children, then dressed as a green witch, a colorful clown, in a sweater covered in poinsettias as she read The Night Before Christmas to a rapt audience of four year-olds. There were thirty years of photos to go through, the majority adhesed in thick worn books that looked tired until… Continue
Added by Teresa on April 19, 2011 at 9:00pm —
Six other women and myself are sitting at an oval table in a brightly lit room known as the POW office, aka Parents of Westview. We are all mothers, mothers laughing at the travails of parenthood, at all the normal, wonderful, awful stuff it's fun to share, then the subject of allergy diets and doctors arises and the pleasant spell is broken. My mind quickly scans the table for distraction, embraces an inanimate organizer, its familiar utility, the solid black metal, the benign group of… Continue
Added by Teresa on April 12, 2011 at 9:00pm —
Tonight the round wrought-iron tables are full of well-dressed people talking, texting, sipping iced coffee. Strands of white lights spiral the tall thick oaks that line this street in Houston's midtown area, a yuppie mecca, a haunt for the cool ones who need to keep moving, light as air, through life. I lean against a street lamp and watch them tonight, remember friends I knew in my twenties who knew all the latest cocktail concoctions, always had evening plans, knew every hip… Continue
Added by Teresa on April 11, 2011 at 1:30pm —
The woman at Rolf Laub's art exhibit was in her mid-seventies but moved across the crowded room with purpose and a cat-like ease. She approached as I spoke with the artist, interrupted us as though she knew me, so Rolf walked away to give her space. It turns out we were both writers and then the topic somehow became my impending marriage which sparked all sorts of questions from Charlotte who grew younger every time I looked at her. She told me, "I was also married to a doctor, and he was a… Continue
Added by Teresa on April 9, 2011 at 8:23am —
He is surrounded by therapists, teachers and doctors, fourteen in all. They have names like Toshio, Tempa, and Toodie, similar to Tin Man, Lion and Scarecrow. His therapies involve a steady stream of word play, ball pits, swings, playdough, horses and sand. He spends twenty-six hours a week in formal therapy but then receives an at-home version his family provides plus speech homework Iris and Sheba give him. Therapy feels like play to the four year-old, play rewarded with colorful organic… Continue
Added by Teresa on April 7, 2011 at 10:00pm —
The image has stuck with me all these years, the paralyzed woman punching a bowl of potato chips to pull out just one. The scene came from the 1975 movie, The Other Side of the Mountain, starring Marilyn Hassett and Beau Bridges. Hassett portrayed Jill Kinmont, a ski racing champion paralyzed in a near-fatal ski accident in 1955. The idea was to impress her then boyfriend by wedging a chip between any of the clenched fingers without breaking it. She managed to accomplish this,… Continue
Added by Teresa on April 1, 2011 at 8:30pm —