The Window
Four words in my sons handwriting, taped to the back of the last drawing. He says he is my grandpa. My father lived next door until the spring before my …
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The Other Daughter
She opened the door wider and said, there is someone inside who has been waiting to meet his aunt. His aunt. I did not have a nephew. I did not …
The Other Daughter Read MoreThe Grave
The death date on the stone was my birth date. The same day. Name, birth date, death date, all pointing at me, except the death date was the day I …
The Grave Read MoreThe Cards
My throat did not loosen for a long moment, because the last card in the box was dated this year, and my grandmother had been gone three months when that …
The Cards Read MoreThe Toolbox
My hands did not get warm again for a while. Two men in the photograph. One was my father, younger than I ever knew him, his arm around the other. …
The Toolbox Read MoreThe Recipe Box
This morning I started calling them, one card at a time. Close to a hundred cards that were not recipes. A name, a date, a single line. Paid off, March …
The Recipe Box Read MoreThe Chair
So I got out, and I walked over to her. She was maybe sixty, in scrubs, with a lanyard of keys, and she looked at me the way you look …
The Chair Read MoreThe Receipts
This morning I started finding them. The woman across town was the first, because her name repeated the most. After her, I had the folder, hundreds of scanned receipts, and …
The Receipts Read MoreThe Letters
I stood on his porch a long time before I asked him to tell me everything. He was older than me, soft spoken, with a kind of stillness to him. …
The Letters Read MoreThe Good Morning
This morning I went to their meeting. It was in the back room of a diner off the old highway, the kind of place with a coffee pot that never …
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