Jackie Adams
Bio
chronic, acerbic truth teller with memories for days. my hope for writing is to illuminate the shameful, murky parts so they feel loved, come to dance, and make merry.
Stories (8/0)
Trudging Along
Trudging along. That is what she was doing. As she plodded through the grey mush she rolled the word trudging over and over in her brain until it turned into the balderdash all words do when you concentrate on them too much. She felt she was stuck in the place where the words don’t make sense anymore and it was getting harder to escape.
By Jackie Adams5 months ago in Fiction
Revisiting the Past Through Prose
Dear Vocal, 2024 is upon us and I am asking you for a huge favor. Please help me to avoid my greatest fear, the one that keeps me up at night, the one buried beneath all angers and anxieties. Help me to put feeling and thought to paper and to work out what only my body remembers, what was too painful for the mind to comprehend at the time. Help me to revisit my past.
By Jackie Adams5 months ago in Art
Grief in a Nail Salon
“Hello, I’d like a pedicure?” “What color?” “Black, please. This one.” “Oh, getting ready for Halloween!” “No, black because that was the color of my dog. She just died. Like just a few days ago. She’s gone. And I want her to be here. So I’m getting black polish on my toes so when I see them I can pretend she’s here. I know that doesn’t make any sense. Like I do really know this and I know I sound crazy. I’m sorry. I just really miss her and I don’t know what to do about it. And I need some comfort. I told my mom my dog was dying and she said “oh that stinks”, so you see I need someone to take care of me for a few minutes, so that’s why I’m here. I just want to sit and think about my dog and maybe pretend you are comforting me, pretend I am someone who has people that comfort them. My dog comforted me, but like I said, she just died and now I don’t really know what to do because she was the one I need for things like this but she left. Well she didn’t leave, I had to decide when she should die, and that part is sort of crushing my soul because I don’t know if maybe I did it too soon. She gave me a look before she died that made me think I did it too soon. The vet said her tumors were enormous and the bone cancer was spreading and she couldn’t walk anymore and when she did she fell on her face and it still hurts my heart when I think about it. Every time she would have to go up or down I would hold my breath and close my eyes and pray she wouldn’t scrape up her face when she fell like she did that one time. The vet told me “it was time” but what is “time” when you are killing your best friend? Because she was my best friend and my daughter and also my protector and my confidant all rolled up into one big package. She was so big. Everyone commented on how big she was. I loved the feel of that big body next to mine. She was just gorgeous, the face of a dream. But I guess it had to be time because I knew she was hurting. She wasn’t herself. She hadn’t come to bed in over two months. And I tried to pretend that was because of the new baby, did I mention I just had a baby? A son. After two miscarriages. My life just became complete and now she is leaving me. Right when everything became perfect, she had to go. I want to tell her I still need her here especially for the good parts but I don’t want her to feel like she has to stay for me. I have to be her mother and make the hard decision to let her go so she can stop being in so much pain. And part of me died when I made that decision. And I am so fucking angry at my husband that I had to make it. He was tripling her pain meds because he really loved her too. So I cooked her steak and fed it to her piece by piece and had all her favorite people come over for cuddles. She died with the sun and the breeze and my tears all on her back. She rolled that big body into my husband and stared at me. I tried to send every ounce of love into her and prayed she could feel it and it would carry her to the next chapter. I know her death was beautiful but I still am nervous that maybe I didn’t make the right choice today. Because now she’s really gone and I feel like I am going to scream. I feel really really scared and sad and alone and when I feel those things I go see her except now she’s gone and I don’t know what to do but I think I’m starting to panic a bit. Where is she? Where did she go? I screamed for her in my car. Yup, I was driving alone at night and I just started screaming for her. My whole soul needed her and you see we were just getting to the good part of life, the parts where all my big wishes had finally come true after so much pain and heartache. And I guess that is why she was able to go now because we got through all the hard stuff. But that doesn’t feel comforting, it just feels cruel.”
By Jackie Adams6 months ago in Petlife
Oakwood Regional High School Yearbook 2001-2002. Top Story - December 2023. Content Warning.
My mom had told me she found my high school yearbook and would send it over in the mail. Months went by without the package arriving—as was mom’s way. I managed to put it out of my mind. When the parcel showed up on the lobby floor, the box bruised and tattered, it startled me. My body seemed to absorb early, instinctively to what my mind would later experience.
By Jackie Adams6 months ago in Criminal
Your Life’s Work
You made me a card for my birthday. It was a painting created from a picture of us, but only I made it to the card. The arm that was slung around your back in the photo was now just suspended in air, creating a clumsy ballerina type pose. You didn’t put yourself in it. Just me. Alone. And I’m reaching for someone who didn’t want to be in the picture anymore. Who cut herself out. Just me, still looking for somewhere to put my arms, for someone to hold on to. You said I always asked for too much. I managed to grab onto you for a second in the photo, but what you created from it left me alone. You escaped my grasping, desperate hands. You recreated the image of us into an image of me, alone. Your magnum opus, your life’s work, has always been to escape these desperate hands. And I have always been reaching for air. I take my arm and recreate the pose. I take down the clumsy stretch that once held onto my mother and I put it across myself, creating an embrace. I hug myself as I cry, hug myself until I transform. I was once a daughter. But now I am my own mother, holding myself as I heal from your life’s work. Thanks for the card mum.
By Jackie Adams7 months ago in Poets
