I’ve long seen my mom in Mary, but it is only now that I realize my mom saw a bit of Mary in me, too. As I went off to college, graduated and moved to bigger cities in states far from home, got my first suit, my first apartment. As she watched me experiencing all the highs and lows that come with tossing your proverbial hat in the air as a single working woman. As she saw me live out some of the Mary Richards’ experiences she never had.
Four is learning to whistle along with Peppa Pig.
Four is puppet shows and pirouettes.
Guess which Christmas song is my daughter’s favorite? A live recording of Andy Williams performing what might be the cheesiest, grooviest rendition of Jingle Bells that you have EVER HEARD. Those dancers! The jazzy flutes! I cannot get enough of this song. What makes it extra special is that this cheesy CD was a giftContinue reading “Wishing You a Very Andy Williams Christmas”
I love that when we told my daughter we were having cake to celebrate grandma’s birthday, she asked which one? rather than assuming it would be for her only living grandma. Happy birthday, grandma Diane. We love and miss you.
All I can do is stay present to what she is right now. To her lip with dried yogurt, her feet in my way-too-large shoes, and her little whispers to me about Bob, the Honey Nut Cheerios bee.
Right now my daughter is 3 1/2. She still says “Lello” (yellow), yesterday asked for a “lollyplop” (aww!!) and would prefer being naked to anything else. I have a hunch this won’t last forever.
They were slim and satin. She kept them next to her bed, or on cold days next to the heat vent. When we went Christmas shopping together, in between buying gifts for others she would stop by the racks of ladies’ slippers at Hudson’s Department store. This was a long time ago, before it became Macy’s. She wouldContinue reading “My mother’s slippers”
Grief is seriously unreasonable sometimes. Last night I found myself getting annoyed with the photos I took in my teenage/twenty-something-years. And no, it wasn’t because of my fashion choices, though some of those were suspect. (Hello high-waist jeans and flannel shirts.) I am talking about the subjects of these photos, or lack thereof. So very few of these photos include my mom.Continue reading “Taking the Long View”