Letters To My Daughter: Touch

I didn’t sleep well last night. You came shuffling into our bedroom in the shadows, a half-asleep, half-awake, sniffling and confused body. You climbed into our bed and snuggled, wrapping your eight year old limbs up around my body. I turned away, you nestled closer.… Read More


On snowy Friday mornings, the blankets come out. I stir unsweetened cocoa into my black coffee and remember winter mornings from fifteen years ago, when I sat by windows and looked out at grey skies and snowflakes drifting past, and wondered. Just, wondered. This morning, the… Read More


Last week, I sat down for lunch with Alex. He was slurping a bowl of clam chowder at the table, all by himself. So, I slid onto the bench across from him and marveled aloud, You know, this is your very last week in single… Read More