Lucky Lost Luggage

We were dating long-distance because of me. I had decided that New York City’s bodegas couldn’t possibly provide what I needed to sustain a complete life, so I left, and Sam stayed. I was young, headstrong and wrong. After a year apart, we flew to Arizona for some meaningful time together. Sam’s bag didn’t make it. In the hotel, each morning began with a low-pressure shower and a high-stakes negotiation: Who would wear my jeans today? Who would get the blue windbreaker I packed? Our solid marriage, full of compromises, owes much to that lost luggage 25 years ago. — Jamie Beth Cohen

Waiting for My Mother’s Hymn

The walls in our house couldn’t muffle my parents’ fights. My father had a temper, and I doubt my mother ever won. At the end of each argument, she would resume her chores while quietly singing the same hymn. I’d wait for her to start singing: my own reassuring ritual that all was well. Years later, I overheard my mother tell a friend that she sang that hymn whenever she was at her lowest. She passed away last year. I never got to tell her that during her saddest times, as she sang to console herself, she gave me comfort too. — Christine Oh

Platonic Appreciation

Sasha (who uses they/them pronouns) enthralled me at open mic night when they tore off their bomber jacket and threw it to me in the audience. We nearly dated in boarding school, but I nervously canceled our ice cream plans. Naturally, they wrote me hate poems in their notes app. We still became friends. Three years later, we kiss by the subway entrance, a nonromantic, goodbye peck. The boorish men catcalling us do not understand our act of platonic appreciation. No matter. Giving them the finger, I descend the stairs and board the 4 train to Manhattan. — Marisa Bringewatt

All of You

I never knew I would miss gastronomy tubes. I never knew I would miss syringes. I never knew I would miss gauze. Needles. Round-the-clock medications. Blood work. Endless hospital stays. Doctor appointments. Seizures. Electrocardiograms. Nearly four years of fight or flight. I knew I’d miss your melodic giggle. Your juicy cheeks. Your flawless baby skin. Your mischievous spirit. The unwavering presence in your eyes and the forgiveness offered in your smile. I always knew I’d miss you. I now know that includes every piece of you. — Lindzi Scharf

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