Still Over and over again, I would run my finger along the strip right above his eyebrows across his forehead. And he would close his eyes. He’d always settle in. He’d become absolutely motionless. As a newborn, as a toddler—a young boy, a teen, a man. Countless times. I ran my fingers through that … Read more
The Fizz There Is If I’m ever going to be OK again, my hunch is that I will be—at least in part—because I’m saying out loud that I currently am not. My goal is not to worry anyone. I think people should worry more about people who remain stoic and silent. Still, that is … Read more
I’m trying to accept myself as I am right now. I feel like an extra in The Walking Dead. Other than when Brooksy wants me to do a puppet show over FaceTime, there is no “push past” in me. At least not my normal push-past. It takes every ounce of whatever steam is left … Read more
My trip to Guatemala less than two weeks after my son’s memorial service was not a sign of strength; it was a sign of weakness. I went because I didn’t want to let anyone down. I didn’t want to let myself down. I told myself people were counting on me, but I was counting on … Read more
“If you build it, they will come.” The “you” is my tech-and-in-every-other-way support, John (pictured), and “they” is me. (John literally built my booth. And I literally narrated every word.) I feel like I’ve been in that recording booth for about forty years now and we finally have the end result. I Punched Myself in … Read more
Luciano’s Song Cycle Recycle: As I ride my bike—spinning my spindly legs over and over again—it’s common for me to recycle the same audio into my helmet-hard head. Often it’s the same chapter from an audiobook, a podcast episode, a TED Talk, a sermon—words. It’s usually something that has challenged me and something I … Read more
The Stinky and Dirty Show My four-year-old grandson, Brooks, has been experimenting with sophisticated phrases—statements like follow my lead. I’ve watched enough “Stinky and Dirty” with him to recognize where he’d picked them up. The other day, Brooks said to me, “Gaga, trust me with this.” So wise, so simple. Trust me with … Read more
Riden like Biden If my neck wasn’t stiff I would have shaken my head. The news alert that had just popped up on my phone yesterday stated that President Biden fell off his bike. “That guy—such a copier. Always trying to steal my thunder,” I said this to no one around. According to … Read more
Jagged Little Coast Just waking up in this little Airstream beauty on the last night of our “Celebrate 38” week-long tour and trying desperately not to panic that I couldn’t find my mom’s bracelet. I’d already been racking my brain the last few days over a misplaced—or lost–favorite jacket. Still haven’t found that. … Read more
