Memory is a kind of fiction. It's the story we tell ourselves, the one we decide is true because we want it to be true. These stories are my memories of you, of us, in our 20 summers living together under the same roof. These stories are my truth. Fact: By this point in our … Continue reading 6
Once, a long time ago, for a short time, I was a fly fisherwoman. Fly fishing, like so many other things, was a short-lived pursuit that began as a lark, took hold for a bit, and then petered out, partly through changed circumstance, partly through competition from other activities, and mostly because I thought of … Continue reading What I know.
The key, I say, is to start with a good anchor and then keep it simple; let simple words do the work so you can remember: I'm going on a trip, and I'm taking an alligator. I'm going on a trip, and I'm taking an alligator and a ball, she says. I'm going on a … Continue reading The red balloon.
