Celebration
I’m aware the autumnal equinox was a week ago, but only today did I register the hopeful, rueful pull of fall.
The sun rose late and I with it. I’d been out uncharacteristically late the night before—driving back into the city on dark, wet roads, singing to Nina, guzzling coffee, shifting gears smoothly in my new clunky heels. I’d felt so glamorous. Continue Reading →
I’ll never forget the morning, only weeks before her death, when she taped a hair to the bathroom mirror with a note. It was her 30th birthday–30 seemed so old to us both–and in her big gorgeous calligraphy she had written: “MY FIRST GRAY HAIR.” There’s more to this story–in some ways it’s the story of my 20s–but 15 years later it still doesn’t feel like I’ve earned the right to tell it. All I can say is every time I curse all the gray mixed into my blonde, I flash on that note–her characteristic bemusement, her breezy assumption there’d be many more to come–and I cry. Suria.