My mom’s favorite piece of advice was, “Do as I say, not as I do”. All things considered with my mom, that was pretty solid counsel. My hope is that I don’t often have to tell my daughter, Conley, to do as I say rather than as I do. And, I also...
The day my mom died, my husband called one of my best friends, Erin, while I was in the shower drowning my tears. I needed the softness of her. She knew. By the time I emerged from the steamy bathroom in my thread-bare robe and towel turban she was...
She slid her arm through mine and I patted her hand as we strolled home through the uneven cobblestone streets. She talked about the architecture, one of her favorite topics, about how she loved the brick buildings that were in an eternal lover’s...
It’s withered and covered in a perpetual coating of coal dust. It is nestled deep in the bosom of the Appalachian Mountains; isolated and not particularly sophisticated. But, if you’re lucky enough to ever see the fog cascade down East River...
The store front window was coated in decades worth of coal soot. It was a deliberate aesthetic. Upon entry patrons were greeted with warped clapboard floors, smoke tinged paint that bubbled and cracked and two scales that for a penny would tell your...
My parents were raging opiate addicts. They both went to prison when I was in high school. My grandmother adopted my younger siblings and me, but there were considerable emotional and financial strains on all of us. We had to rely on food stamps to...
Until she died, my mama, when she was in a good way at least, would either sneak into my bedroom or call me in the early morning hours of January 9 and say, “Good Morning, pumpkin! It’s 5:52 a.m. and that’s my favorite minute because that’s the...
I recently treated myself to something that I’ve wanted since I was a teenager. I finally bought the Tupperware cereal containers that I have coveted for as long as I can remember. And, yes, I know how ridiculous this sounds. To my struggling...
Dear 2021, I hope that we can be friends. I was trying to come up with something clever to say about the past year, but hell, y’all, what is there to say that hasn’t been said. I didn’t learn a new language or become a guitar virtuoso. I baked not...
Other than a couple of over-the-top Christmas celebrations when my dad was on a good hustle and thought that Care Bears and Nintendos would make everything better, we didn’t celebrate Christmas when I was growing up. It was a combination of religion...