Their Bad Mother
August 2009 Archives

This is the skyline as we approach our temporary home, the place that we are staying as we attend to the business of my father’s life and death. It’s the sky, behind a thick veil of smoke. Today, a few …Read More

I said the other day that life would go on, and it has gone on, in its way, although it’s really gone on in much the same way as it was going last week – dealing with death and its …Read More

My husband and children are finally with me now, after two long weeks apart. And tomorrow we say goodbye to my father, formally, for good. And then life will go on. I will continue to struggle through the work of …Read More

My babies are so far away while I’m attending to the affairs surrounding my father’s death, but still, they serenade me from afar: The reminder that there is such immense joy in my life, that that joy sings, is such …Read More

I had said that I wanted – that I needed – to narrate this process, this journey through the experience of my father’s death. But it’s hard. I return to my bed (so far from home) at the end of …Read More

Two weeks ago, a week or so before my father died, I read a post, as part of the Community Keynote at BlogHer. My father figured in the story that I told in that post. It was a post that …Read More

My father died last week. My Dad, who I loved so very much, who I will always love so very, very much. We still don’t know when or how, exactly – he was alone, and the circumstances of his death …Read More

August, 2006. That was what my little feminist looked like before she grew hair and an attitude. No, wait. She always had the attitude. Hair just seems to have intensified it.

Emilia isn’t one for dolls, really. She much prefers taking them apart and incorporating them into art installations than she does cuddling them and pretending that they’re real. Because they’re not real, as she likes to remind me whenever I …Read More

It was my husband’s birthday this weekend. We celebrated by making Emilia’s favorite meal, spaghetti, and having Emilia’s favorite cake, cake. Because that’s how birthdays go when you’re parents to small children to whom birthdays mean only CAKE, and also, …Read More