I’ve known the month of September to be a wily foe. Perhaps her cunning is a mere protesting of the confusion that comes with bearing two seasons at once. Still, I haven’t liked her much. It was during her days that I lost my mom to breast cancer 26
Read more →It’s late June, a golden-blue day wrapped in soft, honeyed rustles hinting at untold promises and glories of the summer at hand. My small children are gliding into a friend’s home, their goodbye kisses and laughter floating through tousles of hair. The sparkles fade to dust, swallowed
Read more →My mom died of breast cancer when I was 15. At first, I missed the short-term comforts she brought. No more Chinese-takeout dinners on Friday. No more special trips to Canada or Florida. Soon I missed the lack of love and attention. I grew to believe there
Read more →Kara Tippetts, a wife and young mother, died recently. I didn’t know her. Like many, though, I feel as if I did–from the words she shared in her book, on her blog and in her radio interviews. Tippetts, 38, was a warrior. She lost a battle with
Read more →I knew it was waiting for me. The day my children would ask me about death–and more specifically, why their maternal grandmother died. I didn’t think it would come quite so soon. But along came the questions, at bedtime a few weeks ago. “Mama, where’s your Mommy?”
Read more →A few weeks ago I told my 4-year-old son Noah I was returning to work full-time. He and my daughter Syma, who’s almost 2, were sparring and fussing, and I was spent. “Mommy will get a job in the city. I’ll be gone all day. Just home
Read more →Today was my son’s last day of preschool. Noah sang, clapped, marched across a bridge bedecked with balloons and ate Popsicles, all with his typical fervor. I’m sure there was a trace of melancholy somewhere. Maybe that trace was in my heart, but still. His loving cadre
Read more →The idea of inducing labor has terrorized me since the birth of my son. It’s synonymous with what I still consider my biggest failure—not allowing Noah to be born on his terms. Instead, I tried to schedule him into my life. I wish I could return to
Read more →Amanda* is dying from breast cancer. In her early 40s with several young children, she recently told her husband that after she’s gone, she’d like him to remarry. Cancer drugs have sustained her life but stolen her hair. She takes them now to prevent her softening bones
Read more →My 4-year-old son Noah has discovered how functional his pants are. He can, for instance, jam Legos into the pockets as he darts out to school in the morning. He can shove even larger things down his pant legs. I noticed Noah’s revelation after a recent trip
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