Author Archives: Liz

The most important thing

Dear Cohen, Sophia, & Ellie- (and eventually Everett & Mae– when you can understand words and become more than just your “spark”) I want you to know something– know something about yourselves, that is more important than being smart, being … Continue reading

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Thoughts on lightness & joy

In the heaviness of life, there exists a lightness– and this lightness might be the secret to joy. Snapshots of Lightness  We have make-shift weather experiments all over our house because Cohen read a children’s almanac that said George Washington … Continue reading

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Hands in the dark.

I rock Mae in the dark, and I hear Everett roll over on his side to discover that I’m still in the room.  The mattress creaks as he pulls himself up, standing quietly to watch us, his chin just over the rail … Continue reading

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BSC!

It rained all weekend.  We didn’t do anything we should have done. Instead, in an utterly irrational move, I spent a half an hour cleaning out the basement storage closet in order to get to my giant bin of old … Continue reading

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Poetry and baseball

 A small, six year old boy begins to don his catcher’s equipment for the first time; the gear hangs clunkily from from his tiny frame, the shinguards a bit too long, the helmet swallowing his small head like the unwieldy face mask of a … Continue reading

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Any afternoon

After school today I picked up the three youngest from my mom’s.  Everett was asleep in his carseat, his chubby thighs busting out of his “future Moline maroon” onesie.  Mae was all boogers and blue eyes.  Ellie did not want to pick … Continue reading

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Mid-week reflection

Every time I write, I hear a thousand different voices.  The voice of the cynic who asks why I should be posting about my story when leaders are dropping bombs and people need to be fed and justice needs to … Continue reading

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Letting Life Speak

Today I am going to begin a new weekly writing tradition.  I’m going to practice noticing.  I’m going to, as Frederick Buechner said, listen to my life.    I’m going to try to let Life speak for itself, in an … Continue reading

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Losing Our Grips

I would sleepwalk through this morning.  The clouds would hang low in the sky, the air too warm for February.  I would see people in the halls, smile and say hi, hold doors open, nod my head during class discussions, squint … Continue reading

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from reaction to response

Up until now, we have said things to the babies and they smile.  Sometimes, when we say their names loud enough, they turn their heads to meet our gaze.  They play in their cribs after bath time and the rising pitch and … Continue reading

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