The kids are coming for Christmas. A tree is in order. But how’s an newly minted widow to wrestle a Christmas tree into its stand on her own? Read more.
My Ever-Changing Family
Our family shrinks and grows. People die. People get born. People get mad and won't talk to you for a while. Kids grow up and find partners of their own, and pretty soon there are brand-new in-laws. And a grandchild or two.
Widowed: As He Lay Dying
I wasn’t in the hospital when Jon died. I couldn’t hold his hand or say any words as he lay dying. Did he know his life was coming to an end? Read more.
Halloween — A Day for the Dead
In the spirit of Día de Muertos, I’m making this Halloween a day for the dead: I’m publishing a story or two told about Jon at his interment. Read more.
Widowed: Who Will Look After Me Now That Jon Is Gone?
Jon was the one I could count on for rides to car repair shops and colonoscopies. Who will look after me now? Read more.
The Kids Are Coming for a Visit. No Time to Write
My grown-up kids are coming for a visit this week. There will be just the three of us Peter, Christina and I. Read more.
I Hated My Pandemic Hair. A Daughter to the Rescue. Sheltering at Home
My daughter had never cut anyone’s hair, ever. But my flyaway pandemic hair needed cutting. So I took a chance. The results were smashing. Read more.
Not Enough Rain. Not Enough Stories About My Husband
I wish I’d written more stories about my husband. But he was a good guy, and our marriage didn’t generate a lot of bloggable drama. Read more.