The Plastic Chairs “Grandma… am I dirty?” My six-year-old daughter, Amber, asked it in a small, careful voice. The kind of voice kids use when they already think they know […]
The first time I saw the cabin, I cried. And not in a good way. It was June of 1986. I was twenty-three years old. Thomas and I had been […]
Greatest Regret My mother had walked both of my sisters down the aisle. Twice each. Four weddings. Four times she held their arms and smiled for the cameras like she […]
The first time I saw my father stand in the rain on purpose, I was seven years old. It was November in Eugene, Oregon. The kind of rain that doesn’t […]
When my sister Emily was six years old, she had eleven baby dolls, and every single one of them had a name. There was Rosie and Bea and Marcus and […]
The Suit My fiancée walked down the aisle wearing an oversized old men’s suit. Nobody knew she was going to do it. Not me. Not my family. And judging by […]
When I was seven years old, I drew a picture of my family on the back of a church bulletin. I drew my mother with yellow hair, because she’d dyed […]
“You’re an embarrassment to this family, and your dirty sailor uniform will ruin my aesthetic.” Those were the words my sister used when she took back my wedding invitation. She […]
“Here’s to the old ATM,” my daughter-in-law said, raising her champagne glass toward me at her sister’s bridal shower. My son laughed from the doorway, then looked down at the […]
I was thirty-three weeks pregnant with twins when the contractions started — sharp, sudden, and far too close together. It was a Sunday morning in Phoenix, and the heat outside […]