I had been scanning the city, looking for something to remind me of the Kunming I once knew, and found the first continuity in this man and his madness.
I had been scanning the city, looking for something to remind me of the Kunming I once knew, and found the first continuity in this man and his madness.
“What becomes of the past if the future snaps off, brittle, the present left as a jagged edge opening on nothing?”
During a Son’s Dangerous Illness Read More »
“What becomes of the past if the future snaps off, brittle, the present left as a jagged edge opening on nothing?”
Steinorth loves where words come from and how they sound against one another. She loves how they carry meaning and how meaning can overwhelm them. She delights in the history and connotations of the words she uses.
Steinorth loves where words come from and how they sound against one another. She loves how they carry meaning and how meaning can overwhelm them. She delights in the history and connotations of the words she uses.
I think our only recourse it to acknowledge that everyone’s grief is their own, immeasurable.
A Python Swallowing an Antelope: An Interview with Gail Griffin on Grief and Writing Read More »
I think our only recourse it to acknowledge that everyone’s grief is their own, immeasurable.
After my dad died and my mom’s worsening dementia forced her into a care facility, it fell to my sister and me to clean out their house. When we walked inside, it was like uncovering an intact archaeological site. My dad’s closet was still filled with his fleece jackets and golf shirts. Inside the pantry, opened bags of potato chips and crackers were sealed with clips. I expected my mom to walk into the kitchen, grab the half-used bottle of Windex from the shelf and clean the table.
After my dad died and my mom’s worsening dementia forced her into a care facility, it fell to my sister and me to clean out their house. When we walked inside, it was like uncovering an intact archaeological site. My dad’s closet was still filled with his fleece jackets and golf shirts. Inside the pantry, opened bags of potato chips and crackers were sealed with clips. I expected my mom to walk into the kitchen, grab the half-used bottle of Windex from the shelf and clean the table.
