Two journals, kept the same week.
Start anywhere. Most entries have a counterpart written by the other spouse about the same day.
The Weight of a Tuesday
Nothing happened today, and that is exactly the thing I have had to learn to survive — the ordinary Tuesday with no visit on it.
Letters My Son Will Read Later
I write to him every week knowing he is too young to understand most of it. The letters are not really for the boy. They are for the man.
The Man in the Next Bunk
He has no family calling. I have complained about a dropped phone call in front of a man who has not heard his name spoken kindly in four years.
Finding Peace in an Empty Living Room
The children go to bed at eight and the house gets so quiet I can hear the refrigerator. That hour used to frighten me. It has become a sanctuary.
Raising Them Honest
I decided early that we would not build our family on a story we had to keep straight. The truth, told gently and at the right age, has been kinder than any story I could have invented.
Holding the Fort
People call me strong. What they mean is that I have not fallen apart where they could see it.