If letting go feels like betrayal, maybe that’s because someone taught her true blue love means holding what hurts even after it starts to burn.
Tag: family
The Advice Her Life Never Meant to Give
I admire my momma for the life she built for us, even as I question how to honor her love without making her total sacrifice my only blueprint for motherhood.
Scarcity Theater: What Was Never Mine to Fix
There’s a point in grief where reflection curdles into rumination. The what-ifs look like insight, but most of the time they’re just guilt in disguise.
I Edited a Book So Dad Would Finally Hear Me
I treated Dad like something to be fixed. I thought if I got the words right, he would be too. I didn’t know how to ask, so I wrote it like it was already true.
Permission Over Proof: Cutting Pages, Courting Agents
Small acts of disregard, stacked, become an avalanche. I need permission over proof, to finish editing p.iii, and to get this manuscript in an agent’s hands.
Holding a Firefly: The Chapter That Says Yes
The chapter that undoes me isn’t about loss. It’s joy—a memory glowing after everything fades. Editing it is like holding a firefly without crushing its light.
For the Kids Who Didn’t Win
This isn’t a recovery story. It’s about what’s left for the kids who didn’t win, who loved someone who didn’t make it. We deserve to stop carrying the blame.
2018: the Art of Looking Away
New-gf glow and sun-soaked selfies hid Dad’s first subtle slide. I ignored my gut, but Ch. 19 won’t let me look away from the skid marks I pretended not to see.
I’ll Share, Probably: Smells like ’99
Mom found Dad’s old glove and sent me a picture. Cue memory flood, guilt spiral, and eventual semi-enlightenment. I might even let Libby have it. That’s growth, right?
Mantra, Mother, Mirror: Happy Mother’s Day
2 poems, 1 heartbeat. One traces the compass Mom slipped beneath my ribs; the other salutes Libbs on her 1st Mother’s Day. Love moves down the line, invincible.