My father, a gentle man who was rarely angry, had a face that, when lost in thought, relaxed into a kind of neutrality that made him look stern. My sisters and I were sure he was mad. In a household not given to expressions of anger, it scared...
When the Body Changes, Are You the Same Person?
There is a story my father used to tell about me as a toddler. It was winter and we were outside in the snow, my three-year-old sister on tiny skis, me sitting on a toboggan, both of us bundled in snowsuits. A friend complimented my sister on her...
Recreational Eating
Hooray for the mouth. Sing its praises. Such a versatile capable orifice. Gateway to the stomach, conduit for food and drink. Home to the tongue and teeth. Framed by soft pink lips. The mouth speaks. Sings. Whispers. Shouts. Blows. Swallows...