Lament on the First Day of Spring

The first day of spring was the color of dust and stone this year. That morning, I backed our minivan out of the garage under a continuous cloud stretched across the sky, a barrier between us and the warmth of the sun. The skin around my eyes was puffy and pressed against the plastic rims … Continue reading Lament on the First Day of Spring

From Lonely Women to Women of Wonder

My phone sits on our kitchen counter, buzzing. The dark red laminate counter that I’ve always tolerated frames my iPhone: an underestimated rectangle of information, connection, and distraction, bordering addiction. I make a mental note to add kitchen countertops to the very end of a long list in my mind of things to do, with … Continue reading From Lonely Women to Women of Wonder

My Mom’s Love Letter: Ojinguh over Fire

When I was a teenager living in the Midwest, I ate dried squid in the winter.  My mom would roast the ojinguh in our fireplace while cups of Swiss Miss hot cocoa grew cold waiting on a coffee table close by. Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus sat on our mantel above the fireplace where she … Continue reading My Mom’s Love Letter: Ojinguh over Fire

God Sings Over Me in My Mother’s Language

I have these memories of my mom making hand motions while singing San Toki, Toki Ya when I was sad or right before I went to sleep as a little girl. She would hold one arm up to symbolize a horizontal path and then prop her other hand behind it with her first two fingers peeking … Continue reading God Sings Over Me in My Mother’s Language

Transitions are Storytellers

The summer I turned five, my parents emptied our home into brown boxes and scattered loose items throughout our garage and driveway for a summer garage sale. Strangers pulled up and parked around our cul-de-sac in small clusters and made their way in and out of our garage in waves. I watched them browse and … Continue reading Transitions are Storytellers