Mom and me at 63
I’ve been thinking about my mom more than usual lately. She died in January 1991 at the age of 63, from breast cancer, and, as impossible as it seems, I’m now the same age. In some ways, it feels like yesterday that I was 33, trying to manage the intense, hot grief. But in other ways, it feels like forever ago — years mired in the minutiae of the day-to-day, building a life that resembled adulthood. I was certainly not in a position to lose my mother. Is any girl or woman, ever?
A Language, an Island, and an Experiment in Ungraceful Aging
Sometimes a trip isn’t enough: it takes total immersion to get the juices flowing again
An Unplanned Life
My Guillain-Barre Syndrome journey
Partially sedated in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU), I stared vacantly out the frost covered window, unfocused on anything in particular. My crying baby lay on a pillow beside me on my bed. I was breathing through a machine, but still aware of everything going on in my room. My husband popped a bottle of formula in Casey’s mouth, and tears welled up in my eyes.
Traveling the World, One Year at a Time.
Episode 3: Where in the world...?
There are entire websites devoted to top ten lists: Top Ten Incredible Smells. Top Ten Most Important Video Games of the 1980s. Top Ten Jailbreaks that Ended Badly. (I’m not making this up! These came from Listverse.com…)