The digital clock on my dresser flashes 7:55. Late, we are going to be late. I sprint across the hallway, snatch socks and deposit them at my son’s feet. “I need you to put these on now.” “Nooo! I don’t wanna,” he screeches, folding his arms.
Thankful
She was asleep to the beauty of her life until she left it. “Mommy play with me!” Her husband’s socks balled up and abandoned on the carpet. The never-ending cycle of laundry and “What’s for dinner?” Bottom-wiping and dog duty. She craved adventure; this wasn’t enough. She hatched a plan and escaped. // Miles awayContinue reading “Thankful”
How I spent my three-month sabbatical
On Dec. 2, I’ll step back into my workplace of over six years after a three-month sabbatical. Undoubtedly one of the first questions on my colleagues’ minds regarding this time away will be “So, how was it?” To which question I’m struggling to find a succinct answer. If pressed to sum it up in adjectives,Continue reading “How I spent my three-month sabbatical”
A prayer of thanksgiving
For a little boy who celebrates fresh flakes with spontaneous snow angels, For his bear hugs & sloppy kisses, For the sweet taste of his remaining Halloween candy, freely given (seems like all our talk of generosity is sinking in, eh?), For building towers & bedtime stories, For every blessed time he utters, “I love youContinue reading “A prayer of thanksgiving”
How to take a writing retreat
First things first, you pack your hiking boots, your books, your laptop and your notebook. Make that two notebooks. Plenty of pens, six pairs of socks, underwear, toothpaste and a toothbrush. Two sweaters, four long-sleeve shirts, four pairs of pants. The readings for your workshop, hot off the printer. Cash you forgot to get cashContinue reading “How to take a writing retreat”
Faith and doubt
I stand at the edge of the river, gazing out at the horizon. Azure sky and mountains and wind and sunlight surround me, threaten to engulf me. Alone on a bridge in central Washington, I listen. Rapids rush beneath me. A smattering of leaves flutter down from a distant tree. I wonder what it’s likeContinue reading “Faith and doubt”
Permission to rest
Sabbatical day 5: “If you need to talk to someone, I can help with that.” Her voice echoes kindness; her brow furrows. “Or I can write a prescription.” I shift my eyes to avoid her gaze. The examination room is spare and spacious, yet the clean, white walls seem to be closing in. “I’m OK,Continue reading “Permission to rest”
The dance
They call it the longest, shortest time for a reason, yet every time I glimpse you teetering between boyhood and babyhood, I’m startled. Like at baby Chloe’s birthday party, while she investigated her first cupcake from her high chair, you begged for a slice of watermelon cake. You licked up the green icing and tore awayContinue reading “The dance”
Banana bread, gun violence and facing the daylight
He just wanted banana bread. Eager to please and to get us out of the house, I obliged. We sat side by side in a bustling Starbucks, stealing a moment together before work and school. My son slurped apple juice and nibbled at his bread. I sipped my coffee, barely tasting it. Eyes glued toContinue reading “Banana bread, gun violence and facing the daylight”
On writing through motherhood
The blare of my alarm snaps me out of a dream. Eyes half-shut, I roll over to silence it, then consider my options. If I get up now, I can write. Maybe. There’s always a chance I could wake my son, a light sleeper, and lose the gift of time. Or I can sink backContinue reading “On writing through motherhood”
Erin Strybis 