It’s been a long time since I’ve felt safe. Months, maybe years. Certain days hit a little harder, somehow always unexpectedly. Like today, which should have been Margaret’s 24th birthday. Emblem of Our House (Blog) Unacceptable Divorce Justice Emblem of Our House (Podcast) She’s Gone Quiverfull Cult I find little moments to find some peace,… Read More Journal 5: Safe
I’d wanted my parents to divorce since I was nine, a year before Margaret was born. My father’s favorite words included: “disrespectful,” “unacceptable,” and “contentious.” Faith was rolled up into the dialogue, as his words, especially “contentious” were framed biblically. The man is in charge, the head of the household. Any dissension was challenging that… Read More Emblem of Our House: Unacceptable
I got married in 2014. I was still living in Colorado then. I’d built up this little career and life. I had my dog, Jeeves, an apartment that backed up against a park. I was freelance writing for magazines, photographers, restaurants, and working with local nonprofits. I really wanted a relationship, something long-term, so I’d… Read More Emblem of Our House: Divorce
I can’t stop thinking about death and justice. It’s everywhere now, things I used to justify and explain away so easily. Well, if he didn’t resist (now I understand the profound fear and panic). Well, she seemed to be a bad person (someone’s past decisions do not provide a pass for a violent murder, with… Read More Emblem of Our House: Justice
I didn’t speak to my father much by 2011, when Margaret went to Cadet Camp. I tried, as well as I could, to be a good daughter, but our conversations had always felt off, even when I was young. I remember one night, when I was still at home, around age 14 or 15, and… Read More Emblem of Our House: Cadet
I didn’t know Margaret had a best friend. I’d known for a while that big events pull people out of crevices. I found myself worried about people showing up who hadn’t known her, not really, reaching out to leach off of the pain. There’s something about hubbub that functions like fire, that turns people into… Read More Emblem of Our House: Friends
The anxiety crawled up my throat from my stomach. People were looking at her on the train. He wasn’t her baby, and she was only 12. I knew there was no way that the baby was hers, of course, but she was young, and she was looking at him with tenderness and wearing him in… Read More Emblem of Our House: Family
The shock hits first; the grief, second. The shock I could handle. I’d experienced that before. Adrenaline was easy once there are pre-programmed responses, once a body has experienced a situation a few times. Hitting the waves isn’t too bad after that. I took care of my responsibilities, contacting the people who needed to know… Read More Emblem of Our House: Villain
Nothing bad happens when I’m making art. I was a dancer first, at age 3, enrolled at a studio in Brooklyn. I danced until I was 11. By then, we’d lived in Pennsylvania for two years. I studied ballet, jazz, and tap. We’d been working really hard on recital pieces when Schlep learned that the… Read More Emblem of Our House: Art
The morning she died, I was tired. I woke up late that day. I didn’t have to go to the farm. I had Reggie, a small Yorkie I was dogsitting. I had a dentist appointment that afternoon. I’d finally gotten financially to a point where I could afford to go every six months. I went… Read More Emblem of Our House: Gone