These muted days

​Your blankets have been hot-washed, tumbled and donated  and your corner of the kitchen is clear and simply a kitchen corner again,  suitable for the storage  of dustpans and brushes, dinner trays  and a box of emergency toys and crayons for the kids.   You were my baby  and I loved you  and I could…

The spaces

The spaces have long been you. They are still you, but not entirely. There are pinholes of light where once there was only darkness. There is space around the sadness. The thoughts are there, and I cannot resist them, but in letting them be, in letting them churn and wrestle, watching with kind interest as…

Morning musings

Sometimes the toughest things we face seem to come down to the simplest facts when we say them aloud: I am here and you are there. That is my primary thought today. I am reminded of Charles Bukowski and a quote that I love, but that kicks me in the gut everytime: “I want to…