Last week, I Googled: “going back to work while you are grieving and you are a judge.” Sunday morning, I Googled: “going back to church when you are grieving.” Neither efforts garnered any results. Thus, this post. This is the thing I’m learning. It all sucks. When you go through your thing, you begin to … Continue reading
Tagged with daughter …
Find Your Tribe
It doesn’t matter than they don’t know exactly how I feel. What matters is they know me. What matters is, they have known me forever, and they know me better than I know me. They have been through the door for so long, they know they never have to knock. What matters is, even if … Continue reading
You Stole My Football
You made a bad call. Every ref in every sport everywhere in the world should be throwing a flag. The air should be full of nothing but whistles. Roughing the passer—barely a shove. Facemask—child’s play. Late hit—just a tap. Your call was the crappiest call of all crappy calls. And you should know. You could … Continue reading
The Door
I have never hated an inanimate object before. But I hate one now. I hate a door. It is a door to my courtroom. There are 4 of them, but I only hate one. One entrance to the court is a set of 2 doors in the front of my courtroom through which the general … Continue reading
Groundhog Day
So, for six weeks and three days, when I wake up, the first thing I think is, “My daddy is still not here.” And then…where the hell is he? And then…when is he coming back? Every. Single. Morning. I am living Groundhog Day, the movie with Bill Murray. If I had an alarm clock, this … Continue reading
What I Remember
You may want to read “Why It is uglyreal…” before you read this post, and then decide if you want to continue. ____________________________________________________________________________________________ Window in the door to the left of my bench at the court. Susan’s face. Door opening. Kim Henderson beside Susan. The chair underneath me. My legs underneath the bench. My hands … Continue reading
I Am Your Daughter
Before you go any further, if you haven’t, please go back and read the “Why It Is Uglyreal…” on the home page. Then decide if you want to continue, because this post is as uglyreal as it gets. ____________________________________________________________________________________________ When Anna was born, you said to me: “You’ll always be my little girl.” Liar. … Continue reading
Oh, My Daddy, How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Ways…..
Cleaning out boxes and boxes of “stuff” has more benefits than just feeling the satisfaction of throwing away junk that had no meaning whatsoever to me and was taking up entirely too much space in my house. While going through the tedious process of sifting through every scrap of paper I had ever scrawled a … Continue reading
uglyreal 