Her Hair Tells A Story

Standing in the bathroom, a place of horrific and shameful abuse.  I am getting another haircut that strips away my femininity.  I’m 11 years old and in the midst of a war that revolves around my hair length.  Much of my childhood has already been stolen. My inner little girl is screaming “Please mom, stop! Don’t…

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The Arms of Safety

The arms of my oversized chocolate brown chair hold my tired body as I bring the face of my discontented daughter towards me. Her quivering lips latch on and her squawks slow to a grave whimper as she suckles the milk from my breast with a sweet hum of contentment. Oxytocin forges through my body…

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Live the Questions

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue.” – Rainer Maria Rilke A few weeks ago, as I drove my son to camp, he asked, “Mommy, how much did I cost?”…

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I Didn’t See This Coming!

I waited outside the door. My foster children would soon finish their visit with their parents. It had been a month since the kids had been removed.

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Quiet Bravery

I sat with our son, Samuel this week, listening to him lament the busy schedule he keeps as a medical doctor in his 2nd year of residency.

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Pumpkins and Play

Rebecca’s face lit up as soon as she entered our home. “Abudo!” she exclaimed as she looked at the pumpkins our kids were carving that Halloween afternoon.

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