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Sole Survivor
Six years next month. Six quiet, thunderous years of carrying a title no one applies for. A sole survivor is the last remaining member of their immediate family—the final branch on a once-leafy tree. My mother gave birth to three children. I am the only one left. No siblings to call and say, “Do you…
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It’s Okay to Cry
Forty-seven years ago, my mother had just gotten out of the hospital. She had been diagnosed with diabetes, and if my cousin Cleo hadn’t taken her in when she did, she would have slipped into a diabetic coma and died. That’s the part that still makes my chest tighten, even now. While she was hospitalized,…
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Black Walnut Ice Cream
The weirdest things can unlock childhood memories. Yesterday, a friend mentioned how his mother used to eat black walnut ice cream, and suddenly a whole flood of memories came rushing back to me—uninvited, vivid, and sweet in that bittersweet way only the past knows how to be. Memory is funny like that. It doesn’t knock.…
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Scrambled Eggs, Lightly Dusted
I’ve been watching MeTv Toons for over a year and whenever I hear the familiar voices of Magilla Gorilla, Woody Woodpecker, and so many others, I’m taken aback to living at 7246 South University back in the seventies. I am a little girl again. It’s Saturday morning and I’m nagging my mother to make me…
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Music, Music, Music
Three years ago, I went to a concert solo—and I had an absolute blast! I went to see Duran Duran, one of my favorite 80s bands of all time. And of course, the night was made even better by the fact that one of my many “don’t-know-they’re-my-men” crushes was there: the band’s lead guitarist, John…
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Double Nickels Coming Up Shortly
In just a few months, I’ll be 55 years old—and I can’t wait. To some people, that probably sounds strange, because society is obsessed with youth and soaked in ageism. But honestly? I don’t give a flying fuck. I’ve lived. I’ve survived. I’ve been through storms most people couldn’t imagine. Health scares. The heartbreak of…
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Aging Gracefully as An Old Ass Cat
Let me tell yall about this critter. In his old age, he just don’t give a fuck no more. He doesn’t cover up his shit. He just walks away. He uses his paw to knock food out of the bowl and eats it off the floor. And he’s getting fat. Look at him. Like he’s…
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You Are My Love Child
Yesterday was a day she would tuck carefully into the folds of memory. It was the birthday of her oldest child thirty-eight years now and the weight of that number pressed gently against her chest and her soul. She could hardly believe it. Time, that quiet magician, had slipped by while she wasn’t looking. It…
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I Wonder
As the season changes from fall to winter, I’m sitting here thinking as usual and listening to music. As the song ‘That Girl’ by Stevie Wonder is playing, and I’m thinking about my Aunt Mary who died the same year when this song was released. And my other matriarchs. I wonder if they are proud…
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Grief, Energy, and Coping
Facebook memories can be a very painful experience. A picture of my brother Randy that I had posted two years ago popped up while I was sitting down thinking about how I have outlived my entire childhood family. Literally everyone with whom I had formed my earliest memories with has crossed over and it’s a…
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The Potty Mouth Granny 