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The Man Who Can Walk With Me
He is not loud with wanting. He does not rush the door of my life like conquest is love. He knocks— and waits. He has made peace with his shadows. They follow him quietly now, well-fed, well-named, no longer biting at the heels of women. He listens the way elders listen— with his whole body.…
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The Promise I Kept
He came to me small enough to fit in the curve of my hand—eight weeks old, all soft fur and quiet trust. I didn’t know then how quickly time would move, how seventeen years would slip past like a long exhale. Now his black has softened into brown, and white threads stitch themselves gently into…
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Losing My Brother: A Soliloquy
November — He was missing. Missing is a strange word. It sounds temporary. Like misplaced keys. Like a sock behind the dryer. It suggests retrieval. Resolution. But this was different. Received a call telling me that he was missing. Sending my son to the police station to file a missing person report. Asking friends on…
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The Day Death Missed Me
Today is the 32nd anniversary of the day I got hit by not one, but two cars — and somehow stayed among the living. I don’t remember the impact. Just crossing the street. Not the sound. Not the moment my body met metal. My mind keeps that door locked. What I do remember is waking…
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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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The Potty Mouth Granny 