At eighty-eight, my mother says, “It’s time to stop driving.” She watches the birds from her window, hasn’t stepped outside all winter, says she’s happy. Me? The sun pours through the blue bottles on my windowsill, and I feel the wind stirring through the family grave in New Orleans, preparing.

N. West Moss’s memoir, Flesh and Blood: Reflections on Infertility, Family, and Creating a Bountiful Life (published by Algonquin 2021), can be found at workman.com/products/flesh-blood/hardback. Her middle grade novel is forthcoming from Little, Brown, and Company.