reframing femininity
I know a hero who does not seek gain, but servanthood. He improves another’s day in profound ways with simple actions. He knows the meaning of sacrifice and the power of humility. This hero knows people are more important than things. He phrases everything in a positive light. He is someone who knows how to…
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Flying away on a wing and a prayer, who could it be? Believe it or not it’s just me! The Greatest American Hero, an early 1980’s sitcom, endeared us to a very unlikely superhero—an ordinary guy in possession of a special suit. Wearing the suit activated superpowers, including flight. Unfortunately, he lost the instruction book…
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A nervous shudder ran through my body when I saw his name in the subject line of the email. I braced myself for some kind of ploy. I rushed to make sense of things in my mind. Was he reaching out wanting to make things right or to humbly apologize? I quickly knew the…
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When I was seven, I wanted a swing. The simple thought of soaring weightlessly gave me a feeling of rest in my little soul. Never for a moment did I doubt my daddy could make it happen, so I asked him, knowing he would join my joyful anticipation. Just as expected, he took on my…
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“Hip, hip, hooray, Mommy saves the day!” My four-year-old daughter runs through the living room, quite literally singing my praises. I laugh as she jumps up and down, her socks pulled up high on her ankles. I had helped put those socks on, a task that, on this particular morning, had been frustrating my incredibly…
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We sit at the table she and I. Our weekly ritual of alcohol pads needles liquid chemo deep breaths band aids and painted toenails. She is well-acquainted with bellyaches on the way to another three-hour round of joint exams, therapies and phlebotomists. Another school day away from friends.
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It’s early. The morning light still feels cold with sharp lines cutting between sun and shadow. I open the blinds and catch the sunrise climbing over the power lines and trees. With its light, I breathe in a sense of possibility as I turn to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee. And then…
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“Is a bagel still called a bagel if there is not a hole in the middle?” Chatter in the room quiets down and eyes shift towards me, awaiting my answer. The scenario is common, the question new. I try to give my reply. A succinct answer is what is being asked of me, but I…
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When I was in my mid 20s, a woman at church, who was just a few years older than me, had gone home to bury her mother; her father had died a few years earlier. “I am an orphan,” she said upon her return. I thought it was one of the oddest things I had…
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Once upon a time there was a girl named Sunny. They called her Sunny because of her golden hair and smile and the way she would light up a room when she entered. And the light emanated from her, and the light was good. Sunny’s mother was named Gilda. Gilda had discovered when she was…
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