by Kate Motaung | Mar 3, 2014 | Memoir Monday
It was a balmy June evening, and I had an itch to get out. After strapping on my rollerblades, the ones that always reminded me of downhill ski boots, I waddled gracefully across the front lawn, through the gravel by the mailbox, and down the neighborhood road to the...
by Kate Motaung | Feb 24, 2014 | Memoir Monday
I leaned heavily on her forearm as she escorted me through the dental surgeon’s office door. In a blurred haze, I shuffled across the hot asphalt of the parking lot until she eased me into the passenger seat of the waiting car. How I got from the car to the couch...
by Kate Motaung | Feb 17, 2014 | Memoir Monday
It’s the closest I’ve ever come to dying. The setting: The Kern River of Southern California, Class III/IV whitewater rapids. I was a teenager in high school, out from Michigan with my younger sister, my dad and his girlfriend, to visit my elder sister and her fiance...