She is the green hoodie that is hanging off the back of her chair because she always gets "chilly" in the dining room. She is the tea pot that was already set up (always, always, always the night before!) for her morning tea that she never made. She is everywhere, but here.

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She is the last batch of croutons she made which are sitting on the counter. She is the work shirt hanging in her bathroom, the one she was going to wear to see her Wednesday clients. She is the grocery list on the counter to which she had added, "aluminum foil" and "parm."

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She is everywhere. She is the salad dressing. She is the slices of Tassajara bread in the fridge. She is the box of matzoh waiting on the steps to be brought upstairs when she arrived home from her walk. She is the plastic bags she washed, dried, & saved in the event that we needed 65,000 of them.

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(The grief/appreciation posting will continue until my morale improves.) I love this photo of her & my kid deep in conversation back in 2018.

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last night, I told someone “I think I am a red state person…” which is to say I am wholly invested in rethinking what we mean when we describe places as “unlivable” and “impossible” for folks like me. It is also to say that I am committed to dreaming and fighting for what has always been ours.

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