Memoir

Remembering the House of Stone

The farther I am from my home in Zimbabwe, the farther I am from my mother and the daughter she remembers. 

The View from Madinah

When my family made pilgrimage to Saudia Arabia in my grandmother's memory, we were struck by the state of faith and war.

Between Loneliness and Imagination

Though I’ve lived in more “storied” places, the physical space of the suburbs has shaped me more than any other.

A Grief Like This

To be newly pregnant is to feel uniquely unsafe. Here is one way to fall in love with an idea.

The Only Average Guy

The day before he heard the prognosis, Rob Ford told me, “People hate me. I don't know why."

A Journey to the Medical Netherworld

If your child gets sick, hope for something mechanical. Failing that, wish for something commonplace. This is a mother's quest to find her daughter a diagnosis.

Surviving the Love Bomb

Having phone sex in a bush behind a library on the fourth of July stopped me from converting to Mormonism.

The Long Run

Did I feel high? No, I just felt alive. Alive in the sense of not dead. 

We'll Walk

On my brother, Wheels, and living with disabilities. 

'Are You Still Married?'
When your daughter's death was national news, strangers have no qualms inquiring about the state of your relationship.