Yearly Archives: 2015

A murder of crows is a flock, and if you’re ever plagued by one, it might be trying to tell you something.

Parenthood first goes about revealing your innumerable flaws and shortcomings.

After my mother died, the long silence of my 60-mile commute was the hardest part of the day. I think I missed her most then, after years of talking to her on my cell phone as I sped along, on my way home.

Mostly, I wish I had known that wanting to have sex didn’t make me an adult, and being desired didn’t make me powerful.

My 28-year-old self knows that you can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped. My 10-year-old self wants her dad. I don’t know which breaks my heart more.

I wake in the night with a suffocating sense of my own mortality, thinking, I can’t be sick. Mothers of special needs children have to live forever.

By Ruth Deming iPhone. The “I” stands for idiot. That’s me, the iPhone idiot, taking lessons from my son Dan and his four-year-old daughter Grace....

Whether it’s a hearing loss or grief, if you are in front of me, all I ask is that you not jump to conclusions.

I wonder why my mom did a lot of the things that she did. Did her actions stem from the insecurity of never being good enough for her father? Did that contribute to her marriage to an abusive man, my father? Is that why she did drugs?

It seemed I would never be a normal person, who could eat a normal meal and accept a normal body and if you can’t have those things, then why bother? Life felt choice-less. I started dying in lots of ways.

My rapist was a healer. He was a Reiki practitioner and massage therapist.

Her dying exhumed grief I hadn’t known I had—it has been merciless in its ability to dredge long buried emotion to the surface.