30 years is a long time for anything. My God, I can't even believe I'm old enough to remember 30 years worth of stuff! But 30 years it is. 30 years of truths, filled with love, heartache, adventure, poverty, sorrow, fun, boredom, humor, adoption, childbirth, more love, frustration, sickness, insecurity, joy, pain, raising children, more… Continue reading 30 years is a long time

Every year, on July 15, I celebrate John’s birth, the moment he came into this world, cried his first cry, breathed his first breath, opened his eyes, laid eyes on his first mother. It is a celebration of a day 23 years ago that passed like any other for me, a day centered on an… Continue reading My son’s first mother

When John was a little boy, his energy was boundless. Once his eyes opened in the morning, they were open until the last little bit of energy had been exercised from his body. I think he came into the world that way. For certain, he came into our lives that way. As the mother of… Continue reading Three little gifts

My youngest, Charlie, keeps me from succumbing to my maudlin self. With him, there is no room for my own self-pity. Years ago, as he embarked on his college education, John, our oldest, moved to Pittsburgh. And we were devastated for a while.His big personality left a hole from the moment we dropped him off,… Continue reading Grounded

One of the experiences my mother was most proud of was her service as a WAVE during World War II, so it’s fitting that today, on what would be her 97th birthday, we remember D-Day. My mother, gone so many years, still visits me often in dreams and brief memories. I can no longer hear… Continue reading The memories we carry