And then there are times…apart from all the questions and philosophizing and theologizing I do here, apart from the mothering I do- telling my daughter that yes, appa died, but we can still love him and he loves us, apart even from the process of grieving I practice each night in my bed- writing and reading and thinking- staring at your empty desk chair and your place on the bed beside me- set aside from even that- is just a simple, simple, longing for you…simply missing your presence so much- wanting to put my head on your shoulder and feel comforted for just
in all of this.
List-making in a Dark Time
For any other list-makers out there, I published this on HerStories yesterday.""In this time of quarantine, my lists are offering me space outside of the walls of my home, a way of making sense of chaos, a self-imposed structure on structure-less days, and even a way...