by Robin Farnsworth | Oct 13, 2025 | Blog Post, Hope, Loss, Love
The nurse snapped the paper to a clipboard, handed it to me with a pen, then looked back at her computer screen. “I’m going to tell you three words, then I will ask what they are after you draw the face of a clock, and set the time to 11:10.” She paused. “Apple, car,...
by Robin Farnsworth | Feb 6, 2025 | Loss
The boy with the blond hair poking out from the dirty baseball cap grabbed his mitt and ambled across the lawn, then crossed the street. “Where you going?” I called after Timmy. “To the school.” He turned enough to catch my face, then he skipped onto the sidewalk....
by Robin Farnsworth | Sep 10, 2024 | Faith, Hope, Uncategorized
Grabbing my bags, I tread softly down the hall, passing the hushed rooms of sleeping patients, chirping monitors and the light banter at the nurses’ station. Someone moans. I don’t say goodbye because I am becoming more and more like my mother, who abstained entirely...
by Robin Farnsworth | May 4, 2024 | Blog Post, Hope, Uncategorized
*For all the people who told me I should write about The School Bus. Here you go. The old school bus pulled up to the designated street corner in Manhattan, stopping in front of a loose gathering of 15 people. Bruce pulled open the door and jumped...
by Robin Farnsworth | Mar 20, 2024 | Uncategorized
It was pathetic but also sweet – like an ugly puppy. There we were, staring at the cold dirt, two signs of spring – a smatter of purple crocuses and a couple of neighbors talking to each other. Really, this is Cape Cod. It draws people who can’t run any farther away...
