My Turn


Thirty years ago my grandmother lived in a little house next to ours. My father did her shopping for her, cleaned her house every week, and ate with her frequently. Now my father lives alone in his house 10 minutes walk from mine. I go there in the morning and evening to give him his lovenox injection. I have eaten more meals with him in the past month than I had in the previous year. We are happy to see each other but also there is the unspoken awareness that his declining health and recent loss of his wife created the necessity for the change in our relationship. We have both known that this day would come. Has he wondered as I have, if I would be as good at parental caretaking as he was?

First Fire


This is a time of year when I feel between.

Between
Summer and Winter.
Between
Feast and Famine.
Between
too Warm and too Cold.
Between
Full nest and Empty nest.
Between
long Days and long Nights


I like this time of year, I look forward to the longing for a little more time. When I build my first fire as I did this past Sabbath morning, I feel between.