by Sara Etgen-Baker Tears stream down my cheeks, splattering upon the keyboard as I write this. ‘Tis the holiday season, you see, and I delight in the memories of my childhood yuletides. One such memory stands out as clearly as the glittering angel atop my Christmas tree. November’s blustery winds arrived weaving frost spider webs […]
Women's Stories
November 26 – Even When You Call Me Mother
by Dede Montgomery It was the moment she called me “mother.” I was upset and blurted out, “Mom, I’m your daughter.” She hesitated, and then answered slowly. “Oh, yes.” Too quickly I butted in. “Mom, you know I’m your daughter.” I commanded, rather than asked, selfishly realizing, at 56, I still needed a mother. “Yes, […]
November 19 – Enough
by Sara Etgen-Baker I awoke to the familiar sound of dishes rattling in Mother’s kitchen and to the thick scent of coffee wafting through the air. I glanced out my bedroom window; the neighborhood was lit by the first rays of the day shining through a thin layer of gray clouds. The trees, no longer […]
November 6 – Ode to My Gardening Gloves
by Sara Etgen-Baker Alas, beautiful gardening gloves, I knew you well. I remember the early March day I opened the package and slipped you onto my hands. At first, you were a bit stiff and uncomfortable; but over time you softened and became my weekly companion, pulling weeds, cutting flowers, and guiding the nozzle on […]
October 31 – Happy Hallo-Wasp!
by Kalí Rourke I love Halloween. When I was a child in Northwest Washington, it meant brisk mornings and cooler evenings with bright, colored leaves flying everywhere as my favorite holiday approached. I spent hours deciding what persona I would let loose each year. My mother was my willing conspirator and her crafty skills and imagination created prize-winning […]
October 28 – Maui Sunrise
by Linda C. Wisniewski I had forgotten light arrives before the sunrise, that the sun sends beams in advance of its peek above the horizon, so slowly there is no single moment when darkness turns to light. Dawn is a gradual process, like my sons growing up before my eyes. I saw it coming when […]