Tag Archives: Sharon Olds

Girls

A mother I don’t know particularly well commented recently that she feels so old, seeing her daughter head off to college, and I thought, Really? While babies and little ones are darling and endearing, those so-intense early mothering years wore me … Continue reading

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Birth

An image appears in art, over and over, of a human down a deep narrow well: trapped. What’s at the bottom? What’s at the top? 17 years ago, I had a prolonged labor with my first daughter, where, hours into … Continue reading

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Book in the Hand

A cardboard box of advance reader copies of my book–my first book–appeared in the mail. Returning home from work and school, my daughters and I had gone in through the kitchen door, and it wasn’t until I was at the … Continue reading

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Daughter, Words

My teenage daughter and I had a long drive through Vermont today.  Don’t laugh — I know Vermont’s a small state, but the roads bend all around these mountains.  She’ll be at an art program for two weeks.  Driving, we … Continue reading

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