This Old Grief
‘Al di la’ is an old Italian song that won the Eurovision singing contest in 1961 and it’s going through my head now, 2018, USA, Boulder, Mapleton Hill, purple storm coming in over the mountains, and me as grown up as I have ever been and currently, at this moment, un-bereaved in any way. It is a mournful song about love and loss made famous by Connie Francis and my head is going ‘round and ‘round singing this and my chest is heavy like iron and my heart feels dead with the d
A Bigger Letting Go
This is the day we sell our place in Mexico and we have no idea what it will hold. We must travel one hour away on the straight arrow road to glittering Cancun, to the notary with the marble floors and slick, stainless steel doors and the glass fishbowl of striped peppermints on the front desk. Loading ourselves into the car you dispatch me to sit in front with Estella, our realtor. I hate this, it is no place for an introvert. I climb in and dream of the invisible corner of
This You-Shaped Hole
I’m riding along this untamed street, breathing in the green sting of jalapenos and the tang of fresh lime and hearing a distant Spanish baritone singing about love and about loss, and I feel sadder than I should on this cloudless tropical day on the Caribbean. Today I’m braving the undisciplined traffic to collect a check. I’m ten minutes late and arrive hot and sweaty at Cibanco where I ask someone a question – I have an appointment, it was for 11am, I’m late, with Beatriz?