When Distance Makes the Heart Grow

TAsunsetThe little one wakes up at the same time every morning, give or take 15 minutes. Never mind that it’s the weekend. I long to sleep in, but my internal clock has adjusted to hers, which means I’m groggy but awake when she comes padding into my room.

“I miss daddy,” she says, leaning her face into mine. I run my tongue around the inside of my dry, sleepy mouth.

“I know. Me too,” I say. “Let’s FaceTime him.”

I pick up my phone from the bedside and press “Josh in Israel.” A shrill ring starts up immediately and within seconds we see him on the screen. Thousands of miles away, he sits at a beachfront café, the sun setting over the Mediterranean, his face warm and glowing, grinning. Here at home we are just waking up. My bed-head splayed across the propped up pillows, the sleep still heavy in my eyes, my cheeks not yet rosy. The morning sun comes through the window, weak after a night’s rain, gray tinged clouds hanging in the bluing sky. Continue reading “When Distance Makes the Heart Grow”

I Hate the Grocery Store and Why I Gave Up Wine

Yes, that is a retainer case and a plastic container of left over pasta next to my wine. Oh, and a bowl of pretty fruit.

I’m unloading my little red hand basket in the check out line at the grocery store – well, it’s not really a grocery store because I hate the grocery store. Filling up a big cart with lots of food is just a precursor to the looming reality that I must cook a meal and cooking sends me to my dark place.

So no, I’m not at the grocery store. Continue reading “I Hate the Grocery Store and Why I Gave Up Wine”

Bee Stings, Midlife and Telling Stories

Xylocopa9I stepped gingerly across the slick wet rocks, boots in hand, the small stream gleaming. There was something important about getting to the other side without falling in. I placed my foot on the next rock and felt the firm, sudden sting in the ball of my foot. Sharp intake of breath, a sudden jerk, a small yelp. I plunged my foot into the cold water and waded to shore where I sat on the edge of the stream examining my foot in wonder. Stung at last. Continue reading “Bee Stings, Midlife and Telling Stories”

Deep Thoughts From a Late Bloomer

IMG_3181 - Version 2The weeks leading up to my 40th birthday were filled with giddy anticipation, as if I were about to shed a very tattered, old coat and emerge glowing, swathed in silk, to a chorus of angels. Forty seemed to be the magic number, a turning point, a righting of the ship. I’d wake up on my birthday imbued with the Super Powers I’d always wanted: confidence, clarity, purpose.

Instead, I woke up feeling pretty much the same as always: somewhat ambivalent, stressed about minor details, strung out on motherhood and unfocused about the future. Continue reading “Deep Thoughts From a Late Bloomer”