In Medio/In the Midst
August A year ago we were in the thick of it. After 10 years of cross-country travel, 24 years of abuse from my ex, one would have thought the first year would have been easy. But how does one prepare for freedom when you've never known it? Last fall was the hardest year of our lives. And yet, I have never seen more clearly my love for my boy, R.'s love for our family, the safe landing we have built here, more clearly. J has asked me not to write about this time, so this is as much as I can say, but here we are on the other side. Yesterday he and I walked through the Mt. Tabor neighborhood and talked about music and art and life; on Thursday, he heads back to [insert college name here] to begin his sophomore year. I never thought about being in my late 40s (JFC, even to say that, late 40s , feels weird, ancient and yet I am the youngest I will ever be). I have published three collections of poetry. I sing with (and produce, and am president of the board) an opera company, si...