This morning brought terrible news. My friends’ son, away at college, died from a seizure and was found yesterday morning by his roommate. This is a tragic loss, for his parents, his siblings and his many friends. And while his death, their loss, is

When my husband and I moved into our first apartment together he was in grad school. I was not yet working so I was in charge of unpacking while he was at class. After several days of sorting through boxes I noticed that he had placed a small brown vase full

Each morning I wake to a new boy. New size, new shape, new skills. I don’t hear when they come to make the switch (although my dog has begun barking in the night). The changes are subtle. In my exhaustion I doubt myself

When I was younger, sometime in grade school, one of my favorite things to do on a late summer afternoon was stick a book in my back pocket and climb up my grandfather’s apple tree. There was a limb just high enough up that I could perch there out of sight and

For someone who often feels she hasn’t done much I have had a lot of previous lives. I was a classroom teacher. I revamped the recruiting department of an ocean-going educational program and I was a regional rep for a program of a national museum. I was a

When I was a kid one of my favorite foods was pork chops. I loved when we would have them for supper. I would even request pork chops for my birthday dinner. They are the first meat I can remember learning how to cook. But around the age of thirteen I stopped

Last weekend my husband and son were both sick in bed. While I was preparing dinner my eight year old daughter asked to help. After cutting up the bananas for the fruit salad she decided it would be fun to pretend we were working in a diner.

When my children were toddlers they were each enrolled in a fabulous childcare. Eventually they were attending four days a week. But not on Mondays. Never on Mondays. Mondays were our day. We would spend them baking and making crafts (ie making a mess.)

I never met my father’s mother. Couldn’t remember her name until I learned my older sister is her namesake.
I found her picture once wedged between the Jewish World Atlas and a biography of Moshe Dayan.

“Here: a present! For you,”she thrusts it into my hands.“See, it’s inscribed – signed by the poet himself!”
“Thanks,” I say, smile, set the book aside.
Tonight I read a poem in a magazine, and think of her.

Today is my mother’s 82nd birthday, or would have been had she not died in her early forties. Now, at the age of 46, I have already lived three years longer than she did. I think of her every day even though more than seventy five percent of my life has been without her.

When one becomes a parent there are certain milestones in your child’s life you are programmed to expect: the first time your child rolls over, his first step, her first day of school. But not all milestones are anticipated – at least they weren’t by me. This year brought

My son recently joined a new sports team. It is a new league, in a new town, with a new coach. I sent his coach an email last night and shortly thereafter realized that I had addressed the coach by his first name. Not having participated in organized sports myself, I am

There are many moments in life when I find that I am at a loss for words but none of them are quite as hard as when I am trying to respond to someone else’s misfortune. Whether I am hearing of a death, divorce or medical condition, words of comfort, while heartfelt, are hard to find. Nothing seems adequate.

The floor’s been swept.
The bathroom scrubbed.
The counters cleared.
He pulls out tools

Dear Little Brown Mouse,
Please consider this letter your final notification that you are to vacate our premises immediately. Should you not do so, the authorities will be arriving on Tuesday between the hours of

Have you ever been out in public and witnessed something which made you uncomfortable? Did you struggle with the question of whether or not to engage with the strangers involved and address the issue? Sometimes it is of relatively little consequence such as

Re-entry is tough. No more breakfasts of amazing breads, hard boiled eggs, fresh veggies, tuna salad and incredible yogurt laid out for us each morning. No more daily adventures with unimaginably beautiful scenery. No more guilt-free runs to the local bakery.

There is something truly wonderful about coming home to a house in which everyone there is already asleep. There is no squabbling. No flying balls. No instrument being practiced. There is no TV or Wii. No radio or humming. The house is quiet and calm.

Have you ever really wanted something, wanted it so much and for such a long time that you couldn’t even remember why you had wanted it in the first place? You were just sure it was something necessary. Desires like that can take on a life of their own.