I started drinking when I was thirteen years old. That’s crazy to think about, isn’t it? I’m twenty-six now. So I spent half my life getting hammered. It came in waves, of course. Some times I drank more and at others I drank less. Getting sloshed every day or a couple times a month. But, for my entire adult life, I tied drinking tight to my identity. Continue reading →
February is coming.
We talk about how to plan an attack before I even think about the sunlight we get back now that solstice has passed. The mile-markers fly by with minimal recognition. I’m always bracing for something.
I want to feel like I’m moving forward, but every year it floors me. I try to tell myself that this year, yes, this year I can plan better. I can stick to the plan easier. I can do this. Every year I wonder what I have to figure out to make it different than the last. Then I wonder if it’s time to start blaming myself. Like I somehow force myself into bottoming out just by assuming I will. Continue reading →
My father knows how to hold a silence—just like his brother did—with tenderness and purpose. I come from a long line of gentlemen whose brains are always churning. Careful with each word they choose. They all share the same quiet, but ever-present engagement and a slow southern saunter. Their toes turn out and their chests lift up.
My mother overflows with excitement easy. An enthusiasm she shares with her sisters. All the women in my family are passionate in everything they do and quick to a plethora of emotions. We laugh easy, hurt with deep intensity, and understand the importance of hugs. Both how to give them well and with what frequency.
Continue reading “How to build a family”
Ruby Pipes 