Happiness. It's relative.
Lately we have become very taken by a reality show called Life Below Zero. The show features several people living in various parts of Alaska, above and below the Arctic Circle. These are people who catch thousands of fish in the summer, hang them… Continue Reading “#14/100: Parting of the Ways”
This time of year everyone has a great dad. If your dad is dead or very old, he has become a small legend, a tiny statue with a bobblehead that you can keep on your dashboard so when you pull up to a hot… Continue Reading “About a Dad”
When I was a kid, I pretty much went where I wanted. My parents never asked and I never told. As long as I was home before dark, no one cared. I could have been dealing blackjack at a blind pig in downtown Detroit… Continue Reading “I Wish They Were Lucky”
This much is clear to me about being a mother. Age makes us better. Death makes us extraordinary. My mother, gone now twelve years, has reached near sainthood. When the local paper solicited photos of mothers ‘no longer with us’ along with a short… Continue Reading “We Get Better with Time”
On my way home from San Diego last night, I stared out the window of the plane for two hours. The cabin was dark with only a few tiny lights on, many empty seats. And silent, no whispering conversations or headphone spillover, no babies… Continue Reading “The Airplane Window”
When your father dies, you will be at a loss for words. If it’s a surprise, you will burst into tears. You will cover your face with your hands and cry like you were six-years old, like the time you got lost on the… Continue Reading “When Your Father Dies”
You cannot calmly discuss your differences with someone who has a shiv in his shoe. You either have to get yourself a shiv or you have to walk away. The pitiful thing about people who’ve read the self-help manuals about how to manage conflict and fight fair is… Continue Reading “Fighting Fair in a Sucker Punch World”
Without thinking even 60 seconds, I hit the Buy Now button and sent my 89-year old father his first computer, a brilliant blue IMac. The same day I wrote him a letter, gave him my email address, and told him to email me when… Continue Reading “TIE and SIT”
The new sink asks for experiments, offers to wash body parts, expects the unspeakable to be stuffed down the drain; the dim light of the kitchen catching the gleaming promise not to tell. _________________________ 33 words in honor of my newly remodeled kitchen and… Continue Reading “Things Change”
The tiny box of razor blades was right where I knew it would be, buried on the second shelf of the linen closet, amidst hotel bottles of shampoo and bubble packs of cold medicine. It was on my walk that it came to me.… Continue Reading “Happy is a Razor”
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