We were not gushy, Jon and I, and that was fine with me. Widowed now, I’ve been wondering, was I too stingy with my affections? Did my husband know I loved him? Read more.
The Human Need to Name Things — While Standing in a Patch of Weeds
We can’t help ourselves. We like to name things. We have a human need to name things, including the colors of the weeds in a weed patch. Read more.
Kids Leave Home. They Just Do
Kids leave home. That’s how it often is in our oversized, mobile nation. We pack up and move across the country with impunity, leaving our families and origins behind. Read more.
My Son Is in the Hospital With Appendicitis 2,000 Miles Away. How Do I Mother Him From Here?
Happily Retired? Take the Quiz
Retired, I’ve decided, is an attitude. It’s a state of mind, a state of equanimity. You can have that attitude whether you’re still working or you’ve clocked your last forty-hour work-week. Read more.
Am I an Artist? Or Am I a Brand?
What kind of writer am I anyway? When I sit down to the keyboard, is it to write something beautiful — or something that will sell? Am I an artist? Or am I a brand? Read more.
Widowed: My Husband’s Stuff Is Still Here. I’ve Got My Reasons
Marriage is mostly about presence, about being there. Jon’s not here anymore. But his belongings are. Read more.