Malia Boyd Writes
I think of all the cigarettes we didn’t sneak in the backyard, hiding from our kids. I think of all the Champagne we didn’t get to drink on New Year’s Eves. Of all the clothes we couldn’t swap. Of all the trips we didn’t get to take, mowing our way through various countries like locusts with a taste for long, indolent lunches. Of all the birthday cakes you didn’t get to bake for my kids—or yours.
Read MoreThe grief came heart-piercingly hard, the moment he drew his dramatic last breath. I felt unmoored, displaced, alien. I had to reimagine my identity completely. If I don’t have a dad, who am I?
Read MoreWhen I told my family that I was moving to Salt Lake City, my lifeguard cousin looked at me as if I had lost my mind and said, “But there’s no ocean there!” My heart broke on the spot just thinking about what had only days before been unthinkable: saying good-bye to the sea.
Read MoreIn Hawaiian, aloha means “hello,” “good-bye,” and “I love you.” Right now, I’m focused on the “good-bye” and “I love you” parts because I am leaving the state that I love almost as much as I love my own children.
Read More“It’s epilepsy,” says the pediatric neurologist. “She had a seizure during the EEG. We recorded the neurological activity, but also video of her seizing.” He presses play. I have to remain expressionless because she is sitting right next to me, witnessing herself being overcome by a burst of dark electricity in her brain. I can’t imagine how betrayed she feels by her own body.
Read MoreMom, I can’t be seen with you in public anymore. It’s not cool. Plus you are going to make me wear big bikini bottoms and it’s going to ruin my tan line. (Author’s note: Let’s get one thing straight here, her “big” bottoms would still barely cover a flea’s butt. But at least they don’t go straight up her backside like some kind of tropical print dental floss!)
Read MoreMe: So dad, what do you think about the idea of moving into a care home?
Dad: What do I think?! Well I’ll tell you: Moving into a care home is a death sentence. If you make me move into one, you’re signing my death warrant.
Read Moreeach year we try to get together. we cook, and we eat and drink like champions. some years there is more laughter than tears, some years not. the children are usually the ones who save us; running and whooping and carrying on like...well, like it's a party.
Read Morethen i looked at the title of the painting: september 10th. it hit me like a gut punch: on september 11th, my life--all of ours--had been split in two. there was the enchanted innocence of before and there was the devastating knowledge of after.
Read Morei was four months pregnant and i had these visions of us lounging by the pool at our tuscan villa, her sipping prosecco, me rubbing my burgeoning preggo belly, us talking and talking. silly me.
Read Morewe nursed each other through bad break-ups, bad jobs, and bad hair. no matter what went on in our lives and how many miles and years intervened, we always came back to each other. we were touchstones; our relationship was seminal...essential.
Read Morein the preface to her poetry book, heather wrote, "a poem to me is words that paint a picture rich in detail and feeling." when i read that now, the only thing i can think is that by her own definition, her entire life was poetry.
Read Moreher gift was astonishing and rare, and the food world got only a glimpse of what she could do.
Read Morethere we were, rosy with drink next to this sleepy homeless guy on our way to the station to pour heather onto a bus back to cia at the last possible minute because we didn't want to let her go.
Read Moreanyone who knew her from the age of about 17 on, knows that red lipstick and cigarettes were pretty much her signature look.
Read Moreheather's impulse toward warm inclusion came from her parents mary and stuart, who passed it down to her, peter, and ceci. they always treated me like family. and they will always be family to me.
Read Morehedge and i assessed aesthetics and thought we definitely needed better tans in our white gowns for graduation night. we decided laying by the pool at waialae was in order. and wouldn't it be even more fun if we snuck a little booze in our iced teas while we lounged poolside? we were graduating that night after all!
Read Moreit was the golden era of our youth, and not surprisingly, the most golden one among us was our host.
Read Moreheather LOVED the north shore. on the "road trip" out, we'd blast steve winwood, smoke benson & hedges deluxe ultra light menthols and discuss politics, our teenage crushes, but most importantly, what we were going to eat.
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