When I was born, my brother David was already in junior high: a 12-year-old boy with glasses, gap teeth, and a sort-of-shag haircut, except not as cool. It was 1973, and his geekiness belied what a heartbreaker he would soon become — after contacts and braces and athletics (plus a better haircut). He already loved nature... Continue Reading →
Today the weather was so much like it was 16 years ago today: clear and crisp and full of promise. That feel of autumn just nodding its head, the school year starting, new beginnings. Still, I was tugged back to one of the hardest days ever, because that's what painful anniversaries do. Three hundred and... Continue Reading →
It's my brother's birthday again, the day each year when I marvel at what age he would be if he hadn't died — nearly 16 years ago now — from a fall while hiking in the Colorado mountains, and I deeply wish he were here so we could celebrate in person. Nevertheless, I always like... Continue Reading →
Me and David on his birthday in 1977 or 1978, I think... Every year on this day, I celebrate the fact my big brother was born. And I mourn the fact that he isn't growing any older, since he died almost 15 years ago. Today, David would have turned 62. Sixty-two! An age that, when... Continue Reading →
Wow, what a time to be alive, and afraid, and also so clear. The pandemic has made all of us reevaluate what matters to us, and what we really can't do without. I can't do without my friends. I wouldn't be able to survive this seemingly endless pandemic halfway sane without them. Jena, Karen, and... Continue Reading →
Anne Pinkerton 