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Warning: This post is long and picture-less.  Juan will attest that it took me forever to write it.  Consider this my attempt to answer some frequently-asked questions – How’s T doing? Have you heard from his parents?  Do you get to see him?  The short answers are I don’t know, No and No.   The longer answer follows… Read the rest of this entry »


One:  Holidays Are Not Scary

I dreaded spending the coming holidays at home.  I thought being around friends here, in all the familiar places, would too easily remind me that we were one less.   I think Juan and I were on the same page, which made it easy to plan our escape.  This past Summer was our most traveled probably since we’ve been together.

We hit the road Memorial Day weekend, Read the rest of this entry »

I remember the morning of Friday, April 29 2011 as nothing remarkable.  I got up first.  And then T.  And then Lucas.  I was in the kitchen making lunches when I heard the drag of one of T’s dresser drawers as he pulled it open in search of something to wear.  I smiled, picturing him tossing the shirts with buttons and collars aside.  I prepared myself for our morning game – T leaping into the kitchen proudly and fully clothed and me displaying dramatic surprise and faux shock.  Oh, man! You beat Lucas AGAIN?! Read the rest of this entry »

darkness greets my opening eyes

somewhere between 1 second running into 2, I remember T is gone

i try to stifle the unmanly whimper

it escapes my feeble efforts

i hear him Read the rest of this entry »

I don’t know what

or how

there is no clarity in grief

he’s gone is all I can get out Read the rest of this entry »

I was up Sunday night in the wee hours.  I seem to be having trouble sleeping.  It isn’t that I’m not tired; it’s that I can’t turn it off.  Head falls down on the lovely down pillow, on the fabulous 800-thread cotton sheets, on the perfect and new Stearns and Foster mattress, and then the deadly deeds begin to role.  It’s the way he said it, the moronic decision, could have kicked the shit out of them, should be held accountable, best interests of the child, you are failing, failing, failing, dammit pick up after yourself, hate the push and shove on the train, bad behavior begets bad behavior, wild and wicked thoughts about getting back, get back, get the fuck back from me.  I’m dangerous right now.  Don’t be a victim. Read the rest of this entry »

Juan and I have spent the past 3 years, 3 months and 23 days taking care of  a little boy that is not ours.

We’ve fed him.

We’ve clothed him.

We’ve provided him with shelter.

We’ve loved him with a ferocity that would frighten the fur off the most terrifying jungle beast. Read the rest of this entry »

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