I grew up knowing my father was maybe a Gypsy, the kind that travelled around Ireland with beautiful spotted horses and painted caravan wagons. Or maybe my mother, like Janet of Carterhaugh, met Tam Lin in the forest and battled for him with the Queen of Fairies. The government told me she was 32, he […]
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From The Blog
The Thing About Grief
Last month, my son came to visit and was home for all of an hour when he received a devastating phone call, news that would send him into the kind of hysterics I’ve never witnessed. He was half shrieking, half screaming. He was punching walls. Hyperventilating. Pacing in broken circles. Mashing fists into his face. […]