family

Looking back, after an earthquake upheaval leaves nothing in my life at right angles. Yet, I am thankful.

Ash Wednesday: not a day for giving up, but for leaning in to life. As well, the anniversary of my dad’s sudden death three years ago. This poem hits my heart…

Before I was born, you knew me. You sang lullabies to me, still unborn. You memorized my kicks, my restlessness. Wept with joy in hope, and wept with fear in despair: how to feed this unexpected mouth? Your first baby died – you were just 22…

These loved ones, our dead. Does healing ever begin? Is that deep hole always there? They say time heals, but I’m not so sure. In these strange moments, in everyday moments, he pops up. ‘Hello there.’

I’M NOT TURKISH, I don’t speak Turkish (much), and I don’t have ties to anything Turkish in the U.S.A. Yet when the plane touches down at Istanbul’s airport – my eighth trip so far – my heart still flutters as if it’s the first time:

[PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS IN THE PROCESS OF BEING UPDATED FROM AN OLDER FORMAT TO A NEW WORDPRESS FORMAT, SO PHOTOS AND FONTS ARE ALL OVER THE PLACE. BEAR WITH…