Her Words

Me & my stupid poinsettia

While the whole world is Ho, Ho, Ho-ing this month of December, Len and I have found ourselves surrounded by “the circle of life.” Last Wednesday, we had the honor of meeting Gage, the adorable, newly-adopted son of our dear friends, Karin and Cecil. And on Wednesday of this week, we travelled to Baton Rouge to say our goodbyes to…

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Her Words

Eating fish sticks nearly killed me

One great advantage of reaching the ripe old age of 54 is arriving at a place of relative peace with who I am. I have earned my badge of self-acceptance through surviving the great battles of life: painful adolescence, college stupidity (again, thank you, God, that I did not live in an age of social media), young adult omniscience, and…

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His Words

How we can fix the way we send people to Washington

Our long national nightmare is over. I refer, of course, to the mid-term elections. Gone are the signs blocking our line of sight at dangerous intersections. The robo-calls are over. Those ridiculous TV commercials? Done. And, finally, at long last, an END to those stacks of political mailers falling out of mailboxes up and down the street. It will be peaceful now.…

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Holding onto home

I knew something was wrong the moment I entered her room. Instead of finding my mother-in-law in her usual spot, perched in the country blue La-Z-boy recliner—her loyal companion that has accompanied her during the “downsizing of the aging”: from big house…to assisted living…to the nursing home—she was rolling around on her walker. She was fitful, a bit angry, and her eyes looked wild,…

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Her Words

Wedding frocks & flocks

We have reached an age where most of our snail mail falls into two categories: Junk or Bills. I used to enjoy seeing the mail truck work its way down the street to our house—dreaming of surprises and fun cards from family and friends. I confess I even hoped for an unexpected check…or as I would say to the kids,…

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