She loved watching figure skaters on TV. As usual in winter, she pointed to the TV and said, “I wanna twirl like that, Daddy.” I nodded and said, “Someday.” However, someday seemed unthinkable. Alina was born with uncommon muscle disease. Her monitor hums as she sits in a hospital stroller at seven, nonverbal. We have more hospital overnights than bedtime stories. She still got excited when she saw a rink, like Disney on ice. This year, I promised. Not someday. A real one. We wrapped her in her coziest blankets, strapped every tube and strap, and I rolled her onto…
Author: World Wide
When the police SUV stopped, I was halfway down the street pushing the double stroller and texting my sister. My immediate reaction was panic. Even when you’ve done nothing wrong, you get unreasonable fear? Yes, that. But then I saw Officer Lennox—local, friendly, usually waves when he drives by. My three youngest had already run to the curb and sat down like they were waiting for stories. Lennox parked, got out, and sat on the asphalt with them. My hearing was limited, but I saw his hands move. Animated like he was telling a fantastic story or explaining something serious.…
Every morning near the metro station, I saw him with the same tree, ragged blanket, and two puzzle-piece puppies in his lap. He requested nothing. Sat softly, caressing their ears while the city sped by. My pace slowed today. Not sure why. Maybe it was the way one dog gazed up at me—half-asleep, tail pounding. It could have been the way the man gently tilted the food container toward them like exquisite porcelain. I brought him coffee. Shaking his head. “They eat first,” he remarked. “Always.” When I kneeled to pet the little one, I saw the bag. Zipped tight,…
When the Forsters moved in next door, I hoped we’d get along. Their family—husband, wife, and 10-year-old son—was typical. Initially, everything was well. A courteous wave and nod. But everything changed quickly. Danny, the dad, was bad. He acted like he owned the neighborhood, making us blessed to reside near him. The former owners of his house were nice, and we silently agreed on the shared yard. There was no barrier between our properties—just a wide, natural lawn. That was OK till Danny arrived. My wife and I tried. We welcomed them, invited them to the community BBQ, and gave…
I had no intention of stopping. My phone was at 5% and groceries in the backseat. BUT I spotted him lying by the curb, head barely up, ribs exposed, and one ear bent like it was torn long ago. I got close but he didn’t run. He stared at me like he knew I wouldn’t hurt him. His legs shook when he tried to stand, and when I squatted down, he limped over and fell into my lap like we’d known each other forever. That was two weeks ago. Despite his lack of vitality, I named him Mello. He follows…
I was nervous because it was my first week back at work after maternity leave and I hadn’t slept more than four hours. My husband texted, “My mom and dad are stopping by tonight,” and I nearly broke down. I was informed without question or check. They arrived at 6:12, her arms full of casseroles I never asked for, his eyes searching the living room like he was rating the bookcase dust. I pretended to smile. She started right away. “You’re still nursing? He’s skinny.” “You returned to work already? Six years at home with my boys.” Every sentence had…
I was merely supposed to deliver groceries. My mom gave me bags of soup, apples, and that odd grainy bread Grandpa hates but usually finishes since she was worried about them eating enough. I didn’t knock. Keys have been mine since I was twelve. I entered expecting to hear the news or Grandma grumbling about her puzzle pieces. I heard music instead. Real music—not soft jazz or classical. Stevie Wonder. The floorboards hummed loudly. There they were. Grandma in her old house dress and fuzzy socks, Grandpa in basketball shorts and an unmatched button-up. Just dancing. Actual dancing—not slow swaying.…
Granddad’s big white-frosted cake with “95” candles was melting in our presence. Crowded living room. Cousins, uncles, and neighbors absent for years. Someone had worn that tacky party hat over his hearing aids, but he didn’t mind. He appeared little in that huge recliner, wrapped in his beloved brown cardigan. But his eyes were piercing. Sharper than at his 90th. As usual, we sang off-key and overly loud, and everyone leaned in with their phones to catch his candle blowing. He did it then. Granddad raised his right hand slowly. Not wave-like. Scratching and coughing are forbidden. It was slow…
Six months ago, I was arranging a nursery and choosing cloth or disposable diapers. I had no idea my life would change twice. It started with a mild thigh pain. I thought it was pregnancy-related, like sciatica or pinched nerve. It worsened. I endured it when my daughter Liora was born to cherish every minute with her. I was captivated with baby fragrance and small fingers. However, the discomfort intensified. Rocking her one morning was unbearable. I finally got scans. The doctor entered with that face. Who says, “this isn’t going to be easy.” An aggressive, rare soft tissue cancer,…
