Twenty years ago, my two grandchildren, two daughters, my 73-year-old mother and three dogs clamored into our gray Sequoia and left rugged Kodiak Island, AK and headed toward Missoula, MT. …
Presence
With a fire crackling and the lights shimmering, we would sing along to Christmas carols on the radio and shake our presents to “see” what was inside. Mom was Christmas Eve.
Laughter in Church Does not Bode Well at Christmas
The more forbidden laughter is at a given moment, the funnier the situation becomes.
To the Stranger who Scolded my 6-year-old Daughter
It’s tough to be a parent. It’s probably pretty tough to be a kid, too. It takes time to learn.
Have a Very Sterile Christmas
In addition to wishing for space and time when entering a crowded house, another complication to any social situation is that my reserved children hold a tight orbit.
Perfect Santa
What is the obsession with taking—or rather, making—defenseless little children sit on Santa’s lap?
The Unwinding
I am realizing all that I am going to miss, and all that I will no longer be responsible for, and every time it is a tiny shock of awareness.
The One Bad Thing I Do
It seems I am a potty mouth. It only took the princess of potty talk to tell me so.
Henry Miller’s iPod
I was helping Mom set up her new iPod, which meant I had to be at her computer, and that’s when she made me read her blog.
Our Escape
I am grateful for the places I am able to find through reading and writing. My life is filled with hope.