I once knew a woman who blew out the engine on her car without even leaving her parking space. Audré was extremely impatient, a highly competent perfectionist, and stress was her normal state. It was winter. Her car wasn’t warming up fast enough, so she whaled on the gas pedal. Pop went the weasel—in this case, a six-cylinder gasoline-powered engine.…
I can’t recall having any kind of Father’s Day observance for my dad. He was someone for whom a celebration would have been a drop in a giant cavern of want and need, beyond what his wife and five children could have delivered. He’d get a card maybe, and then move on to the business of the day—which would have…
I’m kind of looking forward to Mother’s Day. I’ve got my eye on a lilac standard to replace what a large tree hath wrought into sticks. And there is the Saturday afternoon mani-pedi, providing my son-in-law can handle the grandkids. An early brunch someplace delicious, and an indulgent afternoon watching the kids try to destroy the baby tomato plants and…
I was never one of those hovering, anxious mothers, but I was always connected and sure in relationship to my daughter. Then she got married, and I learned the growing pains of being a mother. At first I struggled to accept that there was someone in her life who would come to be more important than her mother. Eventually, I relaxed.…
Last winter I received a letter from an American friend living in Saudi Arabia, who spoke about the monotony of the colors in the desert landscape. I had complained to her about the lack of color in a New York State winter: browns, grays, little green, dull light, and cold. I started thinking about a trip I’d taken years ago…
