I can’t remember ever not wanting to be a mother. The lullaby to first tuck itself into my memory was Rock-a-Bye Baby. I might’ve heard it from my mom, or maybe it was wrapped under the soft hum…
On Christmas night, I found peace in my mother’s rendition of a Jody Watley song. Only inches from the speakers, Mama sat cross-legged on the living room floor in a puffy red down coat and green winter cap. Swimming in…
My mother was born with one kidney when most of us are born with two. This sole organ singlehandedly cleansed her system, until it, too, shut down—deciding that…
Grandma. I always just referred to her as that without any qualifiers. I said Grandma Sarah whenever I referenced my paternal grandmother. That’s always how it was. I…
It was called “Tika Zika”. They gave us instructions to lock ourselves away from each other. No neighbors, friends, nothing–no matter what. My niece played…