Eulogy

I wrote the eulogy for my mom’s funeral. It was the last big piece I have written since my mom died in July. I am not physically arrested or immobilized by grief. I am very much able to carry on the daily tasks of life, but my creative energy is bone dry. I stepped away from writing for a while because I couldn’t make the the words take shape. I worried that, in the refining process…

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Her Voice

The shallow darkness settles into the room after I flick the lamp switch. I lay in bed next to my husband for sometime in conscious quiet, both on our backs with our eyes trained on the texture of the ceiling coming back into focus. His foot finds mine at the end of the bed to test the waters. "Shall we talk?" it suggests nonverbally. I do not pull my foot away, it is an invitation. My…

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