An Rud A Lionas An Tsuil Lionann Se An Croi

A month or so ago I completed a medical survey that asked several questions about my background, specifically my childhood. There were the typical questions about diet and exercise, but also ones that asked about any trauma that may have occurred before I reached adulthood.  Now, I was fortunate to have grown up in a stable two-parent household in upper-middle-class suburbia. My childhood was happy, my needs met. The most traumatic thing I can remember happening before I reached the age of reason was when I got some ants in my pants that then crawled all the way into my underwear (not fun). My life was fairly peaceful and free from worry. So when I came to the question of whether I had ever witnessed someone die in a violent way, I was prepared to click the 'no' circle and move on. Sure, I had seen the aftermath of some bad accidents on the highway, seen the cluster of ambulances and police cars on the scene, but I had never seen someone loaded onto a gurney, bruised and bloodi...

My husband's grandmother recently died. He had the honor of eulogizing her at the funeral Mass, a task he did not take lightly. In the days leading up to the funeral, he agonized over what to say; how does one begin to encapsulate the remarkable life of a woman who lived nearly 98 years? Ultimately he gave a brief summary of her life, the highs and lows, and ended with one of the stories she frequently told that he had transcribed before she started losing some of her memory. I'm glad to say that he made it through without crying - much to his own relief! Since her passing I have thought a lot about what I would like to say about her. I only had the pleasure and privilege of knowing her for 11 or so years; a small fraction of her life, but a good chunk of mine. There is so much that I could say about her, and so much that could be said by others, but I'd like to focus on the two traits I found most admirable about her - her tenderness and her generous spirit - which so ofte...

 I was sitting in the movie theater with my dad, waiting for Jurassic Park III to start. On the screen a bank robbery scene played out; men in suits with their Nokias stuff money into bags and flee to the roof where a getaway helicopter awaits them. They seem to be in the clear, cackling merrily, when they suddenly get pulled backwards by some invisible force. The camera pulls back to reveal the helicopter trapped on a spiderweb spun between the Twin Towers, its rotor twitching like the wings of a stuck housefly. Spider-Man . My dad, almost forty-one, was visibly excited. Spider-Man was his favorite superhero, I remember him telling me. He loved the comics as a boy. The web-slinging hero, he told me, was just a kid. He didn't have the money that Bruce Wayne had; he made his own tech. He wasn't an adult with the confidence of Superman. Just a kind of nerdy kid from New York, an orphan, with a good brain, a good heart, & powers inherited from the bite of right-place-right-ti...

Years ago I was required to read a book for a psychology class I was taking. I couldn't tell you the title of the book or the name of the author, but it was the story of her struggle with undiagnosed mental illness. The book chronicled her life, the highs and the many lows, as she fought through what she later found out to be bipolar disorder. Prior to diagnosis she had several failed romantic relationships. One, she recalled, was especially passionate in the way many fantasize love to be like, or ought to be like. Romantic gestures, amazing intimate encounters, grandiose proclamations & poetic compliments. Like something from the movies. But in between those moments were periods of violence, anger, jealousy, bitterness. Neither party was mentally healthy & it was abundantly clear by how they treated one another, how they viewed & valued one another & themselves. By the time I was sixteen & reading this book I had learned a few things about love, mostly abou...

I never thought I'd be sad to put my maternity clothes away. Usually, by the time I do, I'm so sick of wearing them that I don't want to even see them for at least another year or so. Usually when I put them away there's a newborn baby keeping me company. Not this time. After three babies my body & muscles just knew what to do; they softened & gave way to my expanding uterus, making room for the tiny life growing inside. The bump appeared much sooner than it had before that I wondered if I might be carrying twins, & hoped that wasn't the case. Just thinking of having two babies gave me anxiety - thinking of how that would stretch my body, what it would mean if I tried to breastfeed both of them, thinking of having to buy another car seat & crib. But that wasn't the case. By the time I had my first appointment to go over my medical history, get weighed, have my urine checked the baby, the single baby, was already gone, unbeknownst to me. Par...

I have this newspaper from college that I've held on to for the last 12 years. Though I haven't looked at it in a long time I know it's there, in a box of mementos from my four years of college. The paper was printed shortly after the Virginia Tech shootings. It wasn't that particular event that made me keep the paper, but the article that it contained, about all of the tragedies my generation had grown up with. At the time the article was written the emphasis was on the most recent tragedy, the shooting at Virginia Tech that resulted in 33 deaths; September 11th; & Columbine. I was ten, almost eleven, when Columbine happened. Before that there were a few events I remember seeing on the news or hearing about while catching snippets of adult conversation. The LA riots, the OJ Simpson case, the invasion of Kuwait. I was so young when these things happened that of course, at the time, I didn't understand them, but I do remember the images - the car chase, the bro...