February 7, 2021 Dear Lizzy, It’s been snowing a lot this winter. This morning, Cece and I awoke to the hushed weight of snow blanketing the skylight above our bed. I opened the window blinds and the trees were dusted in snow everywhere you looked. There’s nothing like the feeling in your throat and your…
“We have always feared Elsa’s powers were too much for this world; now, we must pray they are enough.” – Grandfather Pabbie, Frozen 2 When I was a little girl, my father used to read me to sleep. Sometimes, I can still hear his voice, still feel his arms enfolding me while I sat on his lap, the book…
Before the start of the holidays, my therapist told me that Jewish tradition believes we will be held accountable for the joy that was offered to us which we refused to experience. I admit this concept has dominated much of my free thought throughout this Christmas and New Years. The problem, however, is not that…
If I could show you your first snowfall: a holly tree shrugging white shoulders, a cardinal plucking blushing berries; If I could show you our chickens standing sentinel before their snowy coop or two fawns lift still and silent heads, heralds of a hungry winter; If I could show you snowy branches like ivory arrows…
Hopsewee Plantation, Georgetown, SC, August 2018 The docent ushered us up the grand staircase of the old plantation house to the second floor. Lizzy wriggled and twisted in my arms, straining her neck to catch a view down the stairwell. I bounced and jiggled her through the description of the upstairs bedrooms, whispering occasional acknowledgements…
The old house stretched, vast and creaking, before us. My little sister and I walked, brushing reverent fingertips across two-hundred-year-old thresholds and peeking tentative heads into music rooms and servant’s quarters. The timbre of the docent’s voice held the same rich quality as the mahogany banister, spiraling a dizzying three flights heavenwards. Without warning, the…
Two days before Lizzy got sick, I took her to daily mass at the Basilica of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton in Emmitsburg, MD. During mass, Lizzy fell asleep in my arms. I stood in the pews of the beautiful vaulted church, staring at the intricate mosaics and relishing the warmth of the sun filtering in…
I’m five years old, and the noon sun sets my skin to prickling as I kneel in the red soil of the strawberry fields of Larriland Farm in Woodbine, MD. My sisters and my mother crouch nearby, busily filling their baskets as telltale streaks of juice dry on their chins. I lean forward to uncover…
October 5, 2020 marked 18 months to the day since Lizzy died, making Cecilia 17 months old. With each day that passes, the fact of Lizzy’s death becomes just a little more concrete. By this, I mean that the utter despair, the raw and shredding grief, and the searing isolation become that much more ingrained…
I just thought of one thing that’s permanent. Love. – Olaf, Frozen 2 September 29, 2020 Cecilia lay fitfully beside me, fading in and out of sleep. Again and again, she veered towards consciousness, crying briefly and bumping her head against the headboard, unable to settle and unable to sleep. I murmured meaningless noises, trying…