Articles about Linda

Rosary

May 25, 2021

“Ask my family to say the rosary for me, Lin, please,” Grandpa Jim said. My father-in-law’s voice, warmed by a slight Kentucky drawl, a remnant of his birthplace, was fresh in my ear. But his lips had not moved. He lay in a coma, about to die. But I’m only an in-law, I thought, it’s…

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The Hymen’s Tale

May 15, 2021

As a young woman, I checked my wild creative nature and sexuality to preserve my cherry. Later, I discovered that the hymen was but a crescent flap of embryonic tissue; a remnant that men and religion imbued with high moral meaning. I had two nicknames in high school: “Miss Advent” and “Sassy.” Translation: irreverent and…

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A Bookbag Named God

May 8, 2021

“Hey, Sandy-Beach-Del, you must be po-or. Your bookbag is, like, trashed, man.” The spin on my last name, Sandel, was typical for the boy, a fellow sixth-grader. My bookbag was a sorry sight, frayed and falling apart. Schoolbags back then didn’t have fancy shoulder straps and lots of zippered pockets. They were satchels, carried by…

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Girdled No More

May 6, 2021

“There is a line of varicose veins on both your legs, mid-thigh,” the woman doctor said, her tone matter of fact. My feet were clutched in the frigid steel stirrups on the gynecologist’s table. My backside felt saran-wrapped against fake leather. Bright white fluorescent lights did not warm the space between my spread legs. Neither…

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Good Morning, Divine Feminine

February 27, 2021

“Mama, I can’t breathe,” she said. Ancient and black, ankles spilled over battered sneakers, she raised her arms to the mystery.

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I’m Speaking

February 20, 2021

I’m Speaking. Who’s the “I”? Over a year ago, I started “Method Writing” classes with poet and teacher, Jules Swales. The classes are sculpted around writing like you talk.

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The Palm Reader’s Gift

February 17, 2021

An acolyte of practical miracles and the mystical magic of intuition and synchronicity, I hid that from most.

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Why I wore pearls…

January 21, 2021

My pearls were indigo blue. Their color symbolizes justice and wisdom. Before I watched Kamala Harris become vice president of the United States, I clasped my pearls around my neck.

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Beyond Election Malarkey

November 9, 2020

As I rounded a curve in West Virginia, the sign came into view. It was enormous, plastic, glossy red and blue, and it stretched to cover the side of a half-collapsed barn: TRUMP 2020.

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Appalachian Longing

October 29, 2020

I was raised in a flat concrete suburb. I live in a flat concrete city. I belong here in this paved world and I am content. But I long for an Appalachian Fall.

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