“You two are a broken record,” she said that day with a huff on her way out. She’s over it. Over us. “Mom, I don’t know why you are okay with… [fill in the blank].” Our adult daughter’s assumption is that I, her mother, can change “this” —this way of relating (or not) between her father and me; this unbending set of wills, shabby beliefs, the very ones that I’ve yelled and whined and paid therapy for and prayed over […]
Continue ReadingDecade III – Mending Love
Yes, Doctor. No, Doctor Too Many Damn Books Spin Cycle Broken Record Hands Vow of Stability Lament Leave ‘er Lay Choosing Again Music of Silence A Life to Celebrate A House I Loved Crappy Old Shovel: Transitions Praying Our Goodbyes Love Making Home Thirty Years
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