"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." – Maya Angelou
i hope i don’t forget: how you changed the pronunciation of banana to bonana and called coins “points”. how obsessed you were over hamsters, wanting to watch them go through mazes, wanting to check out so many books about them, and asking to be one for Halloween. how you questioned why I was brushing my... Continue Reading →
when i look at our family tree, it seems safe to say that the only similarity i am confident of is this: generation after generation, our tears are in the same language.
we brought you home from the hospital on your second day of life. i sat in the gliding chair in my room with you cradled like a football in my lap; your dad read a new book to your sister on the bed next to us. i complained that i didn’t understand how to position... Continue Reading →
it might have something to do with my literature degree, but i tend to search for meaning even when meaning doesn't want to be found. when i discovered my pregnancy with you, i must have turned the volume up on whatever sense i carry with me that seeks out the moments in life that are... Continue Reading →
i am starting to understand why we can't figure out how to love each other. you are my wound; and i am yours.
is there a word for thinking about the past that isn't nostalgia- because you don't look back on it fondly, and not regret- because it happened to you without your permission? when memories activate heartache? i learned something recently- there are some people that can live decades with tumors that don't kill them. all they... Continue Reading →
When you feel a tear sliding down your cheek in the middle of grading the stack of essays in front of you; when you drop your pen, put your head in your hands, and let yourself be defeated by the task for just a few moments; so that you can find an old journal to... Continue Reading →
bekah noble 