Category: mother
Stop this Train
by Lisa Jo
Today is my oldest child’s 29th birthday. Twenty-nine. Birthdays aren’t the only days I spend wondering how in the holy hell I got here so fast. I lie awake a few nights a week thinking about the time I’ve spent here and how I’ve spent it, the time I estimate and hope I have left, and worrying that “you never know” when your time … Read More Stop this Train
Leave It
by Lisa Jo
I left something behind in Indiana. Not my toothbrush. Or a pair of dirty socks. Twelve hours in a car one way is exhausting. Another 12 on the way home leaves me swearing I’ll never make the trip again unless it’s on a plane. But it’s not all steering-wheel clenching stress and agitated bladders. Along the way, there is magic in the mountains – … Read More Leave It
Christmas Chaos
by Lisa Jo
I marched straight to the shower after waking to let the warm water wash away the awful bits of my trip that were still clinging to me. We drove over 700 miles with gifts in tow. Somewhere in Ohio, my mother called, confused about the time of our arrival. I reminded her of our agreed-upon plans, but Ms. Chaos had other ideas. We were … Read More Christmas Chaos
Lovin’ from the Oven
by Lisa Jo
I spent the day in the kitchen with my first-born, measuring, sifting, mixing, and circulating the sheet pans in and out of the hot oven for about 6 hours. It felt like a dream, seeing her perched on the counter stool, sharing her life with me as we munched ourselves into a sugar coma. Happy is an understatement. I remember when I was in … Read More Lovin’ from the Oven
She Loves Me
by Lisa Jo
I drove back to my mother’s house in silence through the last of the falling snow. The world was still and white. The Colts had lost the playoff game and I guessed the locals were drinking away their devastation in the usual hot spots. It was a beautiful day with my mother – one I will never forget. She sat in the wheelchair with … Read More She Loves Me
Unwritten 