“Mom, don’t freak out but…” Over the years, I have come to appreciate this effort Jackson makes to calm me before delivering bad news. “…I fell. And I think it’s bad. There’s a woman here who is a nurse and said I need to go to the ER. Where are you?” Less than five minutes…
Most of my life, my father was a traveling salesman, working for supermarket distributors and building his own business on the side. He was busy – always on the phone or planning his next trip to some small town with an A&P or Shop n’ Save. He never seemed tired to me, though. For me,…
Recently, my son Jackson turned twenty two but thanks to the current pandemic and the fact that we live on two different coasts, I haven’t seen him since January 3rd in the Hong Kong airport. I have an unapologetic, wild love for Jackson. We have always been deeply connected souls. I understand that not everyone…
Short, raw, off the cuff… This is my Mom. She was a babe back in 1950, right? She’s 88 years old now and has no big health issues (except a bad cancer diagnosis last year, which she miraculously continues to keep at bay.) She’s been a mother to five, a grandmother to ten, and a…
I was frightened. Ten seconds earlier, I couldn’t have predicted that I’d be standing in my towel, hair dripping wet on the floor, defending myself to a couple of officers. There’s nothing quite like having San Francisco Police Department’s finest on your doorstep. Jackson had been having a tough time falling asleep and was up…
It is 1981, I am eleven years old and holding a photograph. It is about four by four inches square, glossy, with 1969 written along the white rim. I found it in a box of photos I’d never seen before, in a storage area of the garage I’d never combed through before. I’m doing research…
Today is my 50th birthday. Many people reach this age and start thinking about their bucket-list. A sense of urgency creeps in with the realization that there are only so many vacations left, books to read, friendships to make, and adventures to have before it’s all over. I’ve decided to share my reverse bucket-list, or…
I joined a meet-up for Stepparents. I’m not a joiner, so this was difficult for me. I like to try new things, see what sticks, but once I decide to do something with regularity (re: yoga for the last 25 years,) I end up hating the joiner culture that surrounds it. Most would call this…
