The death of courtesy.
I was waiting at the intersection for the light to change, and watching the traffic move through the light. A man in a BMW convertible let fly with a string of profanities, aimed at the driver in front of him, a woman who stopped, shocked, stuck her head out the window, and asked, “What?” I.. read more →
No wonder I am racist.
Purging is part of my life now, as my husband and I prepare to downsize our living situation. After carrying around many, many bags and boxes of stuff from several households (3 of my own, my grandparents and inherited stuff) for all of my adult life, I am freeing my life by donating, selling, or.. read more →
A new facet of grief.
My stepmother has sent me several boxes full of photographs that were my grandmother’s; I have never seen most of them. Mixed in with photographs of the young marrieds that were my grandparents, are photographs of my father as a young baby, a toddler, a kid, a and young man. I’ve never known or thought of.. read more →
Shy ? Or, the wrong life lesson.
She was told, when she was little, that she hadn’t been wanted. Diaphragm failure one month after the wedding. Tenaciously, she hung on, even as a zygote. And ‘unwanted’ became part of her DNA, as her parents lived it nearly all the time. Fast forward decades. She walked past groups where people were all engaged.. read more →
Shrine.
My shrine to my father is on a kitchen counter, near to where I keep my purse. Its center is a 8.5″ x 11″ excellent black-and-white portrait of my father in a narrow, gilded, and embossed frame. He is wearing a suit; the photo was taken in 1973. in it, he is about 48;.. read more →
Making one-sided peace.
My dad got to make his peace with me on the last day we spent together on this earth, February 7, 2016, in a nursing home. He made it unmistakably clear, by deed and word, that he loved me and was happy for me and thought I was beautiful and wonderful. Three times, he reached.. read more →
