Author: nlondon36

Your father is dead, she said. There was a commotion in the next room, my mother wailing, the aunts and uncles wailing. Cigar smoke. Tires screeching outside on wet pavement. She came and sat on the edge of my bed. So quiet. So still, dressed all in grey. They’ll lie to you for a bit, … Continue reading the six sisters

I wake early. It’s either light or dark, depending on the season, but always early. Some urge to catch the morning like the birds at my feeder. They come when the world is still grey, their red feathers still grey in the half light, their song held back until they have eaten, until they are … Continue reading praise song

My acupuncturist tells me I’m yin deficient, tapped out, done in, running on fumes. She says I’ve used up my ancestral chi, apparently not an easy thing to do. I must look confused because she elaborates. Do I ever feel like I’m pushing through fatigue, resisting the siren call to rest? Do I ever skip … Continue reading nourish

When I was a baby they called me Happy. Happy to sit in my playpen with a soft ripe banana. Happy to be kissed by the sun. Happy happy to have everyone around me smile when I smiled. Mommy, Daddy, everyone so happy to see Happy smile. And now here at the end and the … Continue reading no more fixing

When I saw the small ad for a hospice social worker I was zapped, the current straight from the hand of the merciful goddess into my broken heart. It was the year after my mother’s death, and my intuition was screaming that only the dying could bring me out of the land of shadow and … Continue reading return of the light