by Leisa A. Hammett | Dec 7, 2011 | Divorce, Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond, Motherhood, Spirituality
Bite. Pull. Tear. Quickly: lick the juice before it streams a forearm's length. This morning I stood above my kitchen sink peeling an orange for breakfast. As I sloughed the thick rind, bearing the translucent juice-bursting slices, I thought of her. And when I...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Nov 27, 2011 | Divorce, Grief & Loss
Every holiday we gathered, in the chairs on either end of the dining room table sat our parents–our mother nearest the kitchen, our father heading the furthest end. Each year, the last decade-and-a-half, we watched as they, bookending us, grew more...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Nov 24, 2011 | Art, Divorce, Grief & Loss, Nashville!, Nature, Spirituality, Travel
My sisters and I will be gathering for our first Thanksgiving as orphaned adult children. We will resume the tradition started by our father: When we sit down to the blessed feast steaming before us, we will go around the table, each of us sharing...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Nov 22, 2011 | Autism/Disability, Divorce, Grief & Loss, Motherhood, Technology/Blogging
Today's usual Wednesday "Autism/DisAbility" blog entry is posted over at imamomtoo. Please click over and read my take about taking responsibility for our own feelings when we "think" others are staring at or judging our children with autism...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Nov 16, 2011 | Autism/Disability, Grief & Loss, Motherhood, Nashville!
Tomorrow night I will do something I do six times a year. I will stand before a room of parents, grandparents, teachers and other greater Nashville community members. I will follow an hour presentation by a speech therapist, a psychologist–by...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Nov 14, 2011 | Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond, Motherhood
I am my mother's daughter. I am my mother's daughter when I entertain company. Any occasion for her was an occasion to serve her signature chicken curry or chocolate fudge-icing bundt cake and Maxwell House coffee. I love to entertain. She used to say I was...
