My MFA Graduate Reading
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Well, I did it! I graduated! I now have an MFA in Creative Non-Fiction.
The highlight of my last residency was reading some of my work for my graduate reading.
Second Degree Joy
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My mother loved the sound of the sea. Listening to its rhythm subdued memories that shifted in her heart and soothed pain she carried in the present. There weren’t many books on our shelves at home but there were bits of the sea: sand dollars, bleached white in the sun, starfish and coral with their neon colors and iridescent abalone, mementos from childhood vacations.
Read MoreShow and Tell
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Your childhood sounds magical.
It was not. My childhood was filled with fear and want. Love dissipated like morning fog in the afternoon sun.
Looking at shadow boxes with my son, I know his childhood is magical. I created the world he was placed in.
Read MoreI Know How I'll Die
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It starts with a tinge under my skin. An itch begging to be scratched. I find my pulse there, contracting, growing. I dare not touch it. I know it will embed itself under my fingernails, spreading to everything I touch, infecting my eyes, my mouth, the open spaces of my body, eventually seeping into my bloodstream, then to my heart, until… it stops beating, stops throbbing, stops breaking.
Read MoreMind Games
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Hold on to your hats and glasses, cause this essay is going to be a bumpy ride.
This isn't like what you have read from me thus far.
Grandpa's for Fight Night
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“What? Oh, yeah, no problem mija.” He says as the phone rings. I would not sit on his lap that night, I never did on fight nights. “Phil here.” he answered the phone. “Uh huh, uh huh.” He grunted as he jot down a few words and numbers.
Read MoreWeight Will Not Be Ignored
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He seemed to enjoy the presence it gave him, the space he took up, in our lives and in the world, as he used his size to frighten his wife, his children and anyone else who encountered him.
He would not be ignored.
Read MoreA Secret Gift
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It is rare that I’ll remember a sweet memory associated with my father. Most of my memories of him are intertwined with fear and anxiety. And yet...
Read MoreWhy I taught my kids to call our homeless neighbors 'Peace Men'
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Why I taught my kids to call our homeless neighbors 'Peace Men'
In these women and men I see my sister, myself, my God.
Comfort in Repetition
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The night I found out my childhood friend, committed suicide, I listened to Iron & Wine’s song The Trapeze Swinger on repeat--for hours.
Read MoreMemoir: Disneyland
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Uncle Philip knew the on-ramp to the freeway was my favorite. He gave me a wink as he revved the Bug as we waited at the signal to enter, then gunned it as the light turned green. He took the big C curved loop fast. I held on to the door handle tight, then imagined what might happen if the door opened, so I quickly locked it and took hold of the dash grab too. As we entered the freeway and straightened out he laughed and said “Well, Missy, that was our first ride of the day, cause I’m taking you to Disneyland!”
Read MoreLetters Sent: Teachers Who Teach More Than The Class
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He called me when he read the letter, telling me that after reading my letter, he could have stopped teaching and would have been content.
Read MoreMemoir: Presence
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On my grandparent’s shaggy avocado green carpet, I set up the Winnie the Pooh Weeble house they gave me for Christmas. Chubby Christopher Robin and Tigger go for a ride on the teeter totter. Pooh slides down the mini slide, rolling around when he gets to the bottom. “Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down!” I sing as I push them on the tiny swings, after I have given them a nice picnic lunch of honey, of course. I tuck Pooh into his little bed and sing him a good night song, “Jesus is coming, coming for me, in a moment, in a twinkling of an eye.” The song is about the rapture, when Jesus will come for all those who believe in Him. It will happen quickly and without notice, I am to always be ready.
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