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

For the Ones in Hiding

I remember how the fear would thicken at night. After “lights out” I would lie still, wondering if tonight was the night I wouldn’t be afraid. Seconds later I would be under my sheets, the heat of my breath warming my face. I longed for cool air on my cheeks. I longed to be free … Continue reading For the Ones in Hiding

Listen to the Flowers

Yesterday the clumps of unremarkable leaves that line the side of our front walkway were suddenly sprinkled with periwinkle.  Our Woodland Phlox had begun to flower.  I am struck with how startled I was to see them again.  Although I’d become tired of the plain brownish-green stumps of plants they had been for months now, … Continue reading Listen to the Flowers

When Being Mixed Makes You an Interruption

We drove north on highway 101, heading to my grandparents’ house. My dad’s parents only lived a few hours away from us, so we would go there for holidays whenever we could. We curved this way and that along the coast and away from it. In the seat next to me, unbuckled, sat a large … Continue reading When Being Mixed Makes You an Interruption

There is a Burning Bush Inside of Me

She lifted her hands to show me how small I was at birth. Her eyes bulged and she declared again, as if it was the first time she’d ever told me, “You almost didn’t make it! Did you know, you didn’t even cry?” There are those stories parents tell and retell, and by the time … Continue reading There is a Burning Bush Inside of Me