I was walking through the grocery store last weekend when I saw in my periphery a greeting card with a pug on it. I grabbed my partner’s arm and said “Look! Look at that pug!” and when I swung back around I felt my stomach hurl itself down my knees to the sweat-slick floor of that industrial grocery store conglomerate because – fuck! – it was a pug, yes, but that pug’s speech bubble said “I love you, mom!” It’s almost Mother’s Day. And after Mother’s Day, it will be almost Father’s Day. Thinking about it makes my breath...Read More
Posted by Liz Hammonds | Feb 27, 2018
I remember seeing her lying at the edge of my parents’ bed, still and white, with a dress that billowed off the turned edge of a comforter. My father says that never happened, that I dreamed it. He says she was never laid there in a dress, on a well-made bed, with mother, father, sister looking down. Either way, she is dead. My sister died as a baby when I was a big girl of five – a real-life angel. Perhaps if she had lived longer – had made it to three candles – maybe then my mother would...Read More
Make your inbox graceless
We're constantly finding fresh new voices and we put them together for you once a week (or so).