on love and death

You get the news about your sister in that time of night that is so late it’s actually morning. You have just finished having sex, have just finished brushing your teeth, have just finished donning the pajamas assigned to you. You’re some weird combination of empty and full, and right as you climb into bed […]

fortnight

So my son and I, in keeping with things we do best, check ourselves into a hotel, and tonight, muscles all a-spasm from the scaling of a 14,265 foot peak at dawn, break into the spa and fold back the cover of the small, salt-water pool. “Um, are we supposed to be here?” my son […]

little ankles

Every day now, I take my sister to receive brain radiation. She gets locked into a mask and affixed to a table, a box is lowered over her head, and she squeezes her eyes closed while a searing light steals what’s left of her cognition. And in turn, perhaps, extends her life by a few months. […]

indelible ink

I finally reached my sister’s hospital room on the night of Christmas Eve, in the year that I was 24, she 28. Her head was a swollen mess of bruises and stitches and blood and hair. I’d caught a ride with a stranger to find the girl I’d loved for all these awful years so close to gone that […]

wake me up if you wake up

There is something that I have to tell you now. Something I’ve been trying to avoid. But that isn’t going away. My sister is dying of cancer. I was told this by a mother with whom I am not otherwise in contact. Which used to be her choice. And now is mine. There are those who […]

in touch with your sister

“You might want to get in touch with your sister,” the email says. It’s from Mum, of course, and I know this despite her having another new last name. “You might want to get in touch with your sister.” Our first correspondence in eight or twelve or six hundred years. No signature. No subject header. […]