Tag Archives: Childhood

The Couch

While Steven and I, still in our pajamas, sat in front of the television watching Looney Tunes, a man in a green truck pulled into the driveway. We ran to the window, prying the blinds open with our fingers, watching … Continue reading

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In the Moment

As I drove onto the property, I could feel the festivities going on in the back. It was my grandmother’s birthday, and there was always a big celebration with cousins and great-aunts, lifelong friends and neighbors who lived a couple … Continue reading

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Expecting Rain

Pearl liked to take a walk before dinner, during the last half of the Sally Jessy RaphaĆ«l show, before the oven timer buzzed. She set aside her mending, slipped on her shoes and sun hat, and moved onto the porch, … Continue reading

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Endless Summer Days

Summer days felt endless, and we were unstoppable, resistant to the heat, sudden downpours, and hunger. We thrived on blackberries, sour grass, hose water, tag, and hide-n-seek. There were seven of us all together, my older sisters, Mira and Josephine, … Continue reading

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Morning Coffee

A few days before she arrived, my parents huddled in the living room, the kitchen, engaged in hushed conversations that left them rubbing their brows, exhaling, throwing their hands in the air. “What’s wrong?” I asked my mother on the … Continue reading

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Brown Sweater

On Saturday mornings, my mother dropped me off at the Drip N Dry with four baskets of laundry and six dollars worth of quarters stuffed in a red coin purse. She sat in the car while I lugged the baskets … Continue reading

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The Guardian

We lived on the edge of Sweetfield in a three-level house with ten acres of land separating us from our nearest neighbor. My great aunt, Jackie, preferred it this way, relishing in the quiet, the solitude. In the early days, … Continue reading

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Everything we Needed

It was our first summer in the house on Charleston Street, a three-bedroom townhome that had been painted the same color inside and out, a baby blue we thought was charming at first until it started to crack, exposing a … Continue reading

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Shadowy Formations

When I was thirteen, my grandmother moved in, along with her diaper-wearing dog, Fred, who barked at everything, including his own shadow. I gave up my bedroom and moved into my mother’s sewing room, decorating around patterned fabric, spools of … Continue reading

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Hillside

When I was thirteen, about six months after my parents’ divorce, my father and I moved to Elford into a small house on the hillside, over a hundred miles from my old school, my friends, my mother who kept our … Continue reading

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