Seeing your son through the eyes of another is a beautiful experience. Or it can be. And it was tonight. When young men are teens, moms see them as works in progress: Amazing, frustrating, stinky, brilliant, lazy, unfocused and full of potential, or at least that’s been my experience. And our view is skewed and… Continue reading My Sweet Boy

Most every summer growing up, my father would rent a cottage, a camp, a house on the side of a lake or near the Maine or New Hampshire beaches. I loved those vacations, sometimes weeks long with a constant coming and going of house guests. We spent hours in the water, on the water, exploring,… Continue reading Love American Style

So far, there’s nothing like being 55, except being 56, to make me appreciate my mother and her very short life. I remember her at 56, as I was 16. She was an old mom back then. Far more common today, I’m still the old mom. And I feel it sometimes. Though not necessarily in… Continue reading On knowing what matters.

No less daunting than becoming a new parent is the parenting of teens and young adults. Even under the easiest, the lightest of circumstances, I am lost. At what point did we lose sight of their visions. At what point did we become the enemy. At what point did their reality become our nightmare. At… Continue reading When the dark shines through

I am much more the observer than the activist, and I so respect the activist. Like many people, I’ve struggled with where and how best to challenge those things needing to be challenged. And I watch my children do the same, the three in very different ways, none right and none wrong. After all, it… Continue reading The missing piece