Beyond the ordinary

I’ve just deleted my mother from my cell phone contacts list; this is not as drastic as it sounds. She passed away eight years ago. You might ask what took me so long. And you’d have a point. I’ve written before about my mother being a force of nature. She was a mighty oak, someone…

And so we heal

I grew up as one of the lucky ones. The youngest of six daughters in a house with paper thin walls. I grew up with curlers in the bathroom, a bevy of family birthday celebrations, a closetful of dress-up shoes to choose from when I wanted to play Nancy Drew or Charlie’s Angels. I was…

Another place and time

Do you ever awake and wonder how it is you got here? Feeling the tug from another place and time? A world in which we are all awakened by the gentle lapping of water and a dog’s nuzzle? A world where the sun is shining and our gardens are blooming. Or, the gentle pitter patter…

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…

Just save the bird

Last week, I began to feel a wee bit overwhelmed, what with a minor surgery I didn’t want to have, a plethora of work deadlines, upcoming travel, global warming, the absolute cluelessness of the man running my country. You get the picture. Us creative types should really just breathe and take it one moment at…

A mama’s Christmas arsenal

I hugged my son, long and hard, as his shoulders heaved and he let out the emotions that had roiled just below the surface all day. His sobs brought tears to my eyes and I held him so tightly, willing the pain to go away. And yet, I know, pain has a purpose. But, that…

“Mewwy Kwiffmuff”

I heard her before I saw her in the crowded store. “Man, those chips look good! I think I need to get me some of those,” she exclaimed. My son had just thrown a bag of Tostitos Scoops into our cart, an item I had forgotten but needed for a dip I was making. We…

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…