by Emily Gibson | Oct 1, 2020 | Memoir
Chores on our farm have been rarely routine since a batch of four male kittens was born in our barn a few months ago, delivered unceremoniously in the corner of one of the horse stalls by a first-time mother. There was a horse occupying the same stall and the new...
by Emily Gibson | Sep 1, 2020 | Literature
Your rolling and stretching had grown quiet that stormy winter night, but no labor came as it should. A long ten days overdue post-Christmas, you clung to amnion and womb, not yet ready to emerge. Then the northeast wind blew more wicked and the snow flew horizontal,...
by Emily Gibson | Jun 1, 2020 | Memoir
As a physician-in-training in the late 1970s, I rotated among a variety of inner-city public hospitals, honing clinical skills with patients who were grateful to have someone, anyone, care enough to take care of them. There were plenty of street people who needed to...
by Emily Gibson | Jun 1, 2017 | Memoir
Late winter is often particularly dark and dank. My doldrums are deep; the brief respite of sun and warmth too rare. Cranky, I put one foot ahead of the other, get done what needs to be done, oblivious to subtle renewal around me, refusing to believe even in the...