…it wasn’t ordinary at all, this inherently elegant thing. It was something much more: a cord that connected them before me in an overt way and to the women they secretly carried within them. Then the daughter turned her wrist over in a careless motion to indicate the way it was bound…
Read MoreEach morning, as my mother does, as her mother did before us, I put away the dishes. I rise early to relish in the rapture of a quiet house before the raucous of the day begins. Whether the children, the husband, or the guests are sleeping or I am alone in my house, the ritual is the same. This is my morning meditation.
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