Author Archives: janishaag

But you think it is, as you wrap yourselfin her bathrobe, swaddled in so muchmissing her, a great ball of grief that cannot, will not, untangle.And you don’t want it to. You wanther back with a fiery fervor, the shade … Continue reading →

(for Annie and Nikki) I am drowning in Mom bling,the woman who went, always,for the shiny, the glitzy,who, upon her departure,left behind more necklacesthan she could ever wear. And I, having met and fallen fora little girl immigrating from Chinawith … Continue reading →

(for Ashley and Kevin) The one where we grew up, which is no longer ours,which belongs to the next generation in the familywho have, thankfully, spiffed it up and made it their own, so much so that if my sister … Continue reading →

Years ago, working to retiremy heartfelt litany ofI’m sorrys, I decided to replace them witha dozen or more simplethank yous each day. Not that I keep track,but I still toss handfulsof gratitude to the wind like the tiny specks of … Continue reading →

(for Donna) Because for a woman who retired aftera long career as a traveling physical therapistjust in time to do daily care for her firstgrandchild—something she very muchwanted to do— last year juggling that with coordinatingthe last months of our … Continue reading →

I dream of painting, and then I paint my dream.—Vincent van Gogh in a letter to his brotherwhile at Saint-Paul Asylum, Saint-Rémy-de-Provence ••• He considered “The Starry Night” a failure—too abstract, straying too far from nature,painted as he looked out … Continue reading →

I did not fall from grace: I leapt to freedom.—Ansel Elkins, “Autobiography of Eve” What if every fall is a leap to freedom?What if the cast is the cocoon underwhich a simple caterpillar gestates?What if, in every ending—as brutal,heartbreaking, unfair … Continue reading →

(for Sue Lester, BFF birthday gal) I cleaned off my desktop for you.Not my actual desktop, though thereare two of those in my office. The one I am sitting at is overfullwith all manner of stuff—three skinny tubes of lip … Continue reading →

(for Deb, my riverside walking buddy) Though the river has shrunk toa slender fall ribbon,exposing a narrow bandin the center of the channelpopulated with trees going aboutthe business of shedding, we walk the sandy traillooking for the telltale splashof sea … Continue reading →

The night before I never sawmost of my students again—only some of their framed facesvia a newfangled form of onlinecommunication— I watched a massive synchronizedcloud, thousands of starlingszooming as a collective wholeover a fall-harvested field, looking eastover the stubble into … Continue reading →