Author Archives: meaghancc

When I was little, I was obsessed with those word games in the Highlights magazine. Match the words up to their definitions, find the hidden words in the puzzle or the picture. I remember being glued to the TV, PBS … Continue reading →

I don’t know what happens when we die, if anything happens. And here’s the thing, I won’t know until it happens, or doesn’t happen. But I now understand what becomes of the physical remains of a body, what the iterations … Continue reading →

I’ve become obsessed with my family tree. I guess that’s what happens when one branch of it, the sturdy branch below me, breaks off, drops down while disappearing into thin air, leaving only traces of DNA in my brothers and … Continue reading →

The house had sat vacant for nearly three months. Old, still, silent. We had to clear a spider web from the steps to even walk up to the front door. There were puddles of gnats in random places throughout the … Continue reading →

I’ve been waiting, waiting for a sign, waiting for a saving grace, waiting for a moment. There are so many ways to wait. When my mom and dad were young, before the three of us kids came into their lives, … Continue reading →

I feel like a wrung out rag. Like that dirty cloth my Dad kept in the garage, with various stripes of residue from an engine, or an oil change, or from wiping down the cabinets filled with random screws from … Continue reading →

I didn’t know life after death would have so much dessert. My dad became the sweet tooth in the Calcari family, starting after his open heart surgery and continuing through his decade-long journey with cancer. We tried, begged, bargained to … Continue reading →

The story about Dad is a little story about hope.  It’s about knowing the odds are against you but tying up your shoelaces and getting into the game. It’s about taking on life with zest and curiosity. It’s about making … Continue reading →

Last summer, my mom made the decision – on behalf of the entire house – to not put the hanging ferns up on the wraparound porch, home to generations of red finches. She said, “The birds, they’re noisy and poop … Continue reading →

Love is savoring one M&M for minutes. Reaching into the porcelain bowl by his bed and choosing which color matches the mood. Today is blue. Love is the pleasing impact when the hard shell crunches and shatters, with slight pressure, … Continue reading →