hosts: Shalini Pattabiraman & G. Akila
I stitch the seams of a DIY face mask and think about my grandmother. Over a century ago, she dipped bedsheets in Lysol and hung them in a sickroom doorway where she brushed against them each time she passed in or out. Inside, a four-year-old boy lay stricken with polio. Outside, four little girls, ages 6 to 12, kept house as best they could and looked after their newborn sister, who would become my mother.
My grandmother was fond of saying ‘adversity is the diamond dust heaven polishes her jewels with,’ and she tried hard to teach me to recite prayers. I preferred the German cuckoo-clock counting out the hours on her wall and the Japanese silk kimonos, radiant with chrysanthemums, that lay folded in her chest—gifts from a little boy who survived polio and grew up to join the military and travel across the globe.
family photos I shelter in place
Jenny Ward Angyal
Photographs are repositories of memories as are many other objects that establish a significant link to our association with people, time and space. Where do we come from, or where do we speak from is a deeply thoughtful question that intersects across many roles and relationships to arrive at an answer. What is your answer to these questions?
We are delighted to open the comment thread for you to share your unpublished haibun (within 300 words) to be considered for inclusion in haikuKATHA monthly journal.