I was 32 when my husband and I separated. I had three small children, ages 5, 3, and 1. I’m not going to lie - “hard” doesn’t even come close to describing what it was like, and there were times when I thought the pain would kill me. Once or twice, I found myself crumpled … Continue reading Learning to fly (tentative title)
March 8th is International Women's Day. Below is an excerpt from the book I am working on, a memoir of sorts that will, among other things, celebrate my mother's incredible strength. She sat in her car, hands gripping the steering wheel. She was so proud of herself for driving over here. She had been thinking … Continue reading International Women’s Day is about my mom, too.
Maria met us at the back gate. She wore a sheer purple tunic over her bathing suit and in her hand was a glass with what looked like coca cola in it. The midafternoon heat was sweltering, and a cold soft drink sounded amazing, but she didn’t offer and I didn’t ask. We shook hands, … Continue reading The Joy of Home
It was early May, and I was in the car on the way home from work. When you work in a school, May is perhaps one of the busiest times of year, and it is also a time of celebration. May means final exams, yes. But it also means prom, awards ceremonies, and graduation. As … Continue reading the only way out is through
We were in the car, on the way to Marco’s weekly golf lesson, and Marco was telling me about an incident that had happened at school. It seems he and another boy had a dispute with two girls during recess. The other boy and one of the girls got angry enough that the dispute got … Continue reading There is no forgiveness, only acceptance.
Note: This is a graduation speech that I was asked to give in June 2013 for a one-man graduating class. I have realized that it's actually harder to write for other people than it is to write for myself, but it's infinitely more gratifying. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, parents, students, Louise, Dani, and guests. … Continue reading Commencement speech given for a special young man in June 2013
From The hand that first held mine, by Maggie O'Farrell The women we become after children. We change shape, we buy low-heeled shoes, we cut off our long hair. We begin to carry in our bags half-eaten rusks, a small tractor, a shred of beloved fabric, a plastic doll. We lose muscle tone, sleep, reason, … Continue reading Inspiration from others, 2