This weekend our daughter moves into her college dorm. As much as I could try to hang on, I don’t want to. Not really. Part of the reason…
Moms. I need mine. She is 85 years old. And while all signs signal time is running out, I’m no nearer to gracefully letting her go than I…
I’m not an alarmist, but I’ve lived in Russia. It was in the early 1990s, just after the country had opened up to the west and the wider…
I’ve been snoozing. I mean, I’ve been snoozing for a LONG time. In my life, I’ve never marched. Not one time. Not for gay rights, not to protest…
We’d only been in Mali, Africa, for 24 hours when my then 9-year-old daughter said: “Now I know how Brian feels.” Brian was an African American kid in…
Her fascination with death startled me. I made some odd noise that day we passed by the bloated dead dog on the side of the road along our…
It wasn’t the chicken coop inside city limits that set me off. It wasn’t that they’d dump all their shit on our lawn instead of their own for…
I recently learned two things: 1) To stop hauling my daughter’s damn water bottle, real or figurative, up every mountain. 2) To slide down the mountain on nothing…
If Trump becomes president, I’m moving to Iceland. I keep telling friends and family that very same thing. Why would I join the mass exodus to Canada?…
I’m seven days out from my 8-year-old turning 9. For at least a month now, I’ve been in denial. I’ve tried antibiotic ointment, herbal green goop and even…