2020 “Oh gosh,” I hear you mutter (from a distance of at least six feet away), “A tidy li’l 2020 wrap-up? You shouldn’t have.” (Really, I won’t.) (Not too much, anyhow.) Because, friends, this year…defies a tidy li’l anything. (And, yes, I state this from a position of dizzying, boggling privilege. Even from this sky-high perch…it ain’t tidy.) At best, it’s been an upending kinda year. At worst, it’s been the stuff of nightmares, the stuff that’s made the noun {Read More}
Eleven years (of being surprised every single year).
October 29, 2020 By Leave a Comment
Hi Nora, Hey, happy birthday! You are 11. ELEVEN! (What kind of mother sits and marvels at the age her child is turning every single year, like the passage of time isn’t a constant and, well, trackable thing? Your mother, that’s who. Get used to it, kid. Among the plethora of things that ain’t my forte, emotional counting is among the worst.) This blog post feels different than any I’ve written in this space in the entirety of its 12 {Read More}
The story of the puppy.
October 25, 2020 By Leave a Comment
(Because if it’s not documented on the blog, do we really even have a puppy?) I grew up with not-quite-puppy dogs. My childhood was filled with slightly older rescues. Also dogs who were babies before I had entered the picture. And eventually my parents adopted a pup or two after I had exited the picture. P.J. had dogs, too, loyal family pets and veritable baskets full of shiny, licky, Golden Retrievers. But when we moved in together, we had cats. {Read More}
9: A post for Suzy, one of her very own.
October 4, 2020 By 1 Comment
(…Because when you’re the middlest middle who ever middled, “your very own” anything is cause for celebration.) 9: Dearest Susannah, Usually, I write you an open bloggy letter of sorts on your birthday. Usually, it’s filled with musings on the past year, hopes for the future, and high fives for our present. Usually, a year like the one we’ve had is not our “usual.” But wait- before I get completely ahead of myself- happy birthday, dear Suzy, happy birthday to {Read More}
Chicago to the Berkshires, Part 3: We Actually Leave.
July 30, 2020 By 1 Comment
Yes, people, we finally leave Chicago in this latest installment of We Are Never Moving Again. Now, where were we? Ah yes, we were seven hours into what was already promising to be the longest move of our lives. And our movers had brought the not-at-all-agreed-upon truck. And our “moving specialist” had gone radio silent. (Earth silent, really.) And the heart-wrenching day of Meaningful Goodbyes was quickly turning into a fire sale. Because. When the moving broker finally deigned to {Read More}
Chicago to the Berkshires, Part 2: So, moving brokers?
July 23, 2020 By Leave a Comment
OKIE doke. So. Can we talk about moving brokers in this one? Previously, on Chicago to the Berkshires (Part 1), our heroine found herself in a weepy puddle of nostalgia, compounded by a very real timeline of leavin’ town, with a nice dash of “haven’t slept for days n’ days” to really punch up the bawling. I think I did a fairly good job of portraying the feelings and emotions and everything else ramping up to the move…but what of {Read More}
My grief during quarantine: A selfish/justified lament.
April 30, 2020 By Leave a Comment
Grief is weird. I can’t keep a thought in my head. Not for very long, anyhow. It’s like Tron all up in there, with neon thoughts zipping around and pinging off of walls. (Wait, that’s Tron, isn’t it? Or am I thinking of Pong with with the addition of laser sounds?) We should have the kids watch Tron, once I remember what it is. But definitely not Blade Runner– too real. This is my problem. This is one of my {Read More}
Five years later.
March 30, 2020 By Leave a Comment
Hey, Dad. Ready for this? It’s been five years since you left us. FIVE YEARS. I assume that you’re aware of this through the ether- but I’m not exactly sure about how time works where you are. (That said, I’m not exactly sure about how time works where I am. Long story.) Dad, when you died, I thought I was the bravest I had ever been- had ever had to be. Working on your obituary, pulling together your collection of {Read More}
