An unwanted vacation, some obnoxious teenagers, and the impromptu performance that welcomed me back to the world. There are many ways to start a story. Too many. …

Realizing I needed glasses was just the beginning… First my eyes start to go. It takes a while for me to notice. But once I do, I accept this fact with the good natured cynicism that I have used to usher in other signs of my impending mortality; the gray…

I cannot stop thinking about the inevitability of bullets — how they will leave us in pieces, in shadow, in splinters. I cannot stop thinking about our bodies emptied upon impact without blood or tissue or bone — What will we leave behind? Not our fears — of snakes, or clowns…

It takes a lot of courage. When my son was in his first year of preschool and my daughter still small enough to be lugged around in the detachable part of her car seat, I liked to spend our three-hours of allotted nap-time sitting at Bru, a neighborhood coffee shop…

The test of a good mother is never how they react to the status quo but always how they cope in a crisis — For Patricia. I. When your child is still very small, teach them how to knit, how to draw a bath, how to bake a pie, how to make a bed, and how to serve tea. When they grow up, if they are unwell in any capacity always suggest a cup…

When the pandemic began and we were forced to retreat to our homes I knew it was going to be tough on my kids. Both, I should probably admit, were grossly over-scheduled with few if any of what we then called, “free days.” They were used to being busy. …

You wake up to the thump and burn. Your body seizes on the impulse to panic but your mind disengages. You let the Rolodex of must-dos spin to the boom, boom, boom of your heartbeat. …