Memoir | Hazlitt

When my husband suffered a stroke, I was determined that this was not going to be the thing that unwound our love.

On pregnancy and grief during pandemic lockdown.

“Not here, not this school.” Until it is.

Life and death by misadventure.

Overheard intimacy pulls the listener into its orbit, insinuating complicity where there is none.

My parents’ bizarre, unlikely matchmaker, the cult leader.

My grandmother had no way of knowing a book on birds, sent from Russia when I was a child, would determine my adult fascinations.

I knew we were only going to Rulo to make up for his getting so drunk he slept in. Rulo was an apology.

This wasn’t the first time I had become obsessed with drowning.

Sometimes I think I can identify men who have daughters.