Food off my plate

It’s like a second skin that you slip back into after many moons have passed. You see him as part of a group gathering, this man you shared a small part of your young life with. And he still carries your bag to the car. You turn to find it, spinning, wondering where it went….

Speak volumes

Our first meeting seemed anything but fortuitous. There I was, a newly minted 24-year-old, proudly sitting in my cubicle on the executive floor of a Big Brand. I was as close to Mahogany Row (what long-time employees called our row of C-suite offices) as you could get without being a corporate attorney or a secretary….

When I am an old woman

I tossed and turned in the hotel bed last night. And the night before. You’d think vacation would bring sweet rest but turns out my mind wasn’t privy to that plan. It is hyper-focused on a topic I’ve avoided for most of my life—aging. Maybe it’s because my eldest is soon to depart for the…

Terra firma

“Give me but one firm spot on which to stand, and I will move the earth.” –Archimedes I almost didn’t open the email. It came from someone named Moira,  who I’m sure I don’t know. Then I saw the address was my high school alma mater. I’m not sure how many of you out there…

Catch me

I once knew a woman. In her thirties, she left a promising career to stay home with her children. She ferried her two young sons from playground to preschool, from lessons to the library. She cooked amazing, complicated meals on weeknights to the chagrin of her fellow mothers (who told her to stop raising the…

Roll film

Have you ever forgotten that you’re the one holding the brush that paints the broad strokes? Do you ever become so caught up in basic day-to-day muck that you completely miss the fact your life is a canvas of your making? I’ve done just that. I’m not blaming myself. I hope you don’t blame yourself…

Racking up the rosaries

I grew up with women of the rosary. Think the Catholic church’s equivalent of Hell’s Angels. But more lace than leather, an Irish fisherman’s sweater and comfortable shoes. My friends’ mothers and grandmothers—mainly of the Irish persuasion—stockpiled an unbelievable number of rosaries in their “delicates” drawers back in the day. From jade to crystal, pearl…

Sometimes a steady gaze is enough

Years later, as he recounted the story to me, I saw what happened that day in a completely different light. Andrew and I were grad school classmates, part of a small group of executives earning our Masters at a prestigious university. We had two difficult years ahead of us. From negotiation to leadership, onerously long…

Day of Magic

Originally posted on A Holistic Journey:
Voices in my house can be loud lately. Or hushed. Both scare me. I like a happy medium. When my sister sits in the bathtub in the dark, she tells me she is reading. I am small, not stupid. No reading happens in the dark. And I sense pain…

Bedrock

At the core of my home, on one of the central weight-bearing walls, hang photos of my family of origin. Some visitors wonder aloud why I do not feature photos of my children on this wall, as so many parents do. I hung these photos myself (a rare feat of incredible prowess for someone with…

On little (lost) lambs

It was the Our Fathers that usually elicited gasps. Growing up Catholic and attending 12 years of Catholic school provides one with a host of memories. I think of them now in sensory fashion. The smell of wet wool skirts in the winter when snow fluttered down to dampen my plaid jumper during recess. The…

Present in the present

I see the pain in my son’s face over the pain he has caused someone else. He wishes he could take what he has said and done back, but instead he covers his regret with bravado. And me? I try very hard not to go old-school on him and lecture. Because some things cannot be…