Just by virtue of the Y chromosome, men cannot bring themselves to ask for direction. In anything. You know how we talk about kids having to learn things from their own mistakes? For about half of the population, I actually don’t think that ever changes. This evening, sitting on the lakeshore at my husband’s brother’s… Continue reading The man gene

Off and on for years I’ve thought about tattoos: if I want one, what I’d like permanently imprinted on my body, how it would age with me, who should and should not be able to see it, what people would think, how much it would hurt. Mostly, as with SO many things in my life,… Continue reading My tattoo

Our children may save us from ourselves. And save others from us. Children aren’t born selfish. They are born self-centered, but with love and attention and the meeting of their needs, they grow and they share and they care. And then they learn from adults the finite nature of everything, and only then do they… Continue reading Our own children are watching

So much love. So many memories. So many broken hearts. So many familiar faces, older now, yet still babies to me. I remember them as babies, as little children, and forever in my heart and in my mind, little children they will remain. Sweet little Andrew, a wide-eyed boy in a red and black Elmer… Continue reading Heartbroken

Not so long ago, and yet a lifetime ago, my son and his best friend served as sentries to our neighboring homes. Dressed in camouflage, with their painted faces, makeshift army boots and helmets, and carrying their rifles, the boys would patrol the sidewalk, sometimes together and sometimes individually. And it was serious business. And… Continue reading The Neighborhood Sentries