Understanding Birdsong

New story published: Alzheimer's, my Nana, and our (sometimes) fraught relationship

Welcome to Binge Cafe, an offshoot of Reading Like a Writer.

Understanding Birdsong was published by Turning Leaf Journal. You can read it here.

This creative nonfiction piece explores the play of memory and forgetting in relationships, through the story of my Nana and our mysterious journey from combatants to companions.

Nana and I. In the beginning, there was peace.

Certainly, I was a troubled child. Oh, you had some odd friends, Nana said later. I suppose she was right; I gravitated toward strange and neglected souls. It is only now, in the joyful privacy of my own child-free home, that I realize what a sacrifice my grandparents made to help raise us after my parents’ divorce when I was four. —excerpt from Understanding Birdsong

It’s published in the wonderful literary magazine Turning Leaf Journal.

The Turning Leaf Journal is a space for artists and writers alike to come together to learn from and lean on during life’s most challenging, loneliest, and hopeless moments. In this space, we celebrate growth, mourn loss, and reflect on the things that have changed us.

Also please do check out all of the other writers—it’s a fantastic issue.

📹 I also made a trailer.

The trailer’s cello music is from Janos Starker Plays Zoltan Kodály. I used this on purpose. When I was 11, I recorded King FM (Seattle’s classical radio station) when this very piece was being broadcast. Apparently, its beauty struck me (I used to conduct interviews with my long-suffering family, always a tape deck in hand). In the recording, I asked Papa about the song. Years later, Nana helped me track down the piece and bought me the CD. I still love it.

Nana and I - me forcing a hug most likely

Publication journey for my nerdies out there 🤓

Unlike Starving Art, Understanding Birdsong was accepted fairly quickly. But my first draft was written almost five years ago! It was in second person, initially.

Here was its journey:

• Began draft in December 2021*

• Wrote roughly 12 drafts

• Submitted to 4 publications on April 9, 2026

• Rejected by 1 publication (positive “tiered”)

• Accepted on April 22, 2026

• Withdrew (upon acceptance) from remaining 3 publications

To be clear, I put the piece down for years at a time. But the distance helped me gain clarity. It’s name changed from Birdsong (another short story had this title by an author I admire) to Understanding Birdsong.

Classic family shot—most likely taken by my brother—of our annual trip to California. Mom, myself (around 11), Nana, and Papa (and the blue VW bus!) (And short-shorts!)

When I was ten, mom moved us from Seattle to California due in part to these eye-gum-filled tensions. Mom was distraught by how much Nana and I fought, and wanted to give me a chance to flourish away from her rules. I, too, craved our independence and was eager to reinvent myself. I began cursing, quit violin, and made more odd friends. —excerpt from Understanding Birdsong

Thank yous!

First, my mother and my aunt Carolee (Nana’s daughters), both of whom read my draft and proofed it for any errors. I stole the descriptor “hot pink” to describe Nana’s jacket from Carolee! Thank you, Carolee!

I received invaluable help from the New York City Writers Critique Group, who gave this work tons of constructive feedback to shape the final piece. Big, big thanks to all my fellow writers in that group.

Another bit of advice helped—I read this online (forgot the source—too much online craft reading!): If you do not remember something about your topic, lean into that forgetting. This helped me address the part of the piece dealing with the transition in our relationship from foes to friends. Invaluable.

Read Understanding Birdsong.

Nana unwrapped my gift, a book of bird photos, and cried. Still as an owl, she stared at the glossy pages of Indigo Bunting and Steller’s Jay. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Tears of relief, Mom guessed.

PS - I created a new website.

PPS - This picture always hurts my heart. It’s the last time I saw Nana. Her little head is peeking out the window to say goodbye as we drive off. Even with memory loss, she knew to watch.

Nana (peeking out of left window), Mom and her husband Allen

Have you had similar relationships that have changed over time? Did you grow up with your grandparents, too? Do you have parents or grandparents with Alzheimer’s or memory loss? Feel free to comment below about this or otherwise.

Thank you everyone for reading the piece!