I knew we would meet exactly three minutes before we in fact did. I got a call on a special phone at work late last night telling me you were an estimated age of 3 and you had been shot in your chest and were not breathing. That was all I knew, but that was enough to get my attention—all of it. The truth is I had been preparing to meet you for many years, readying myself in every way I could to take the very best possible care of you in the seconds that mattered most if we should ever meet under these circumstances—even though I never EVER wished we would. ...more

“Lift her up, Lord! Take that fluid from her body. I’m going to keep on praying to you day and night... Almighty God, make her well. Which will be a great testimony to you for all patients and doctors and nurses to see.” These were prayers of the sister of a 47-year-old black Baptist woman who was critically ill with cancer. ...more

It wasn’t always pleasant when my husband Bill and I discussed politics. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan aren’t pleasant so why would discussions about them necessarily be? We usually ended up agreeing to disagree before a full-scale war would break out at the kitchen table. That can happen when a closet Republican marries a Democrat. On matters of religion, Bill’s predictable response was a discussion stopper: “You mean you haven’t figured that one out yet?” ...more

After our ceremonies a few of us
Crossed Puget Sound to MacNeill Island
To the grim fortress where the Brotherhood
Of American Indian prisoners had donated
To help our intertribal spiritual gathering.
I held my breath as the iron doors
Slid and clanked behind us, but
Through an open door down the hall
The pounding of a drum, lusty voices sang— ...more

[The author is on death row in Ohio.]

Fragments of free life
roam distant memory
calling
angels to stop the movie.

Twinkle of daybreak
outs shadowy darkness
bringing
fourteen hundred forty minutes of confusion. ...more

When I relocated my family in 1970 from our comfortable suburban home a few miles southeast of Trenton, NJ to the idyllic woodlands of Hunterdon County twenty-five miles north of Trenton, I thought I was doing the right thing: building a new, larger house on five acres of wooded land next to a shallow, rippling trout stream. ...more

I enjoyed calling my friend “Mr. Bill,” because I truly respected him that much. I was a person who never respected anyone.

We were both abused in the home. I was born into a family of alcoholics. No pretty words can describe my parents: they were drunks. My dad was a mean drunk. ...more

Went several days last week without tears, then came upon Rosie’s straw hat hanging by the front door. What is it about hats?? Went a couple of days more and came upon a pair of socks she’d worn while in Mexico and rubbed them on my cheek. I light a candle for her at night—I forget sometimes and feel guilty. I feel ok sometimes and feel guilty about that. I know Rosie would think me foolish. ...more

I walked into the small, overheated, stuffy office for our weekly staff meeting. Andrea, the rector, was there, her gangly body looking uncomfortable on the wooden office chair, her pinched sour face more unpleasant than usual, and her short mousy hair typically unkempt. The light from the window behind her dazzled my eyes, making it hard to look her in the face. To her left sat Frank, ...more

If anyone wondered whether animals grieve… they do.

I am from Boston. I didn’t think I could survive one more New England winter, so five years ago I put my dog in the back seat of my car and drove south. ...more