Monthly Archives: August 1998

My daughter was less than a month old when she scared the living daylights out of me, triggering the first of my many gray hairs. I was holding her when I realized I needed to go tend food in the … Continue reading →

My husband and I listed everything we needed to do to finish our remodeling before our daughter came home after a summer in El Salvador. I gave him the list, packed my bags and flew off to Rochester, N.Y. for … Continue reading →

When my Arizona sister said she was visiting our New York brother and sister said, “I’ wanna come, too.” My 42-year-old little brother echoed, “Me, too.” Our last reunion six years ago was under the emotional haze of Mom’s funeral. … Continue reading →

That does it. I’m moving to Indiana. My daughter is in El Salvador. My son with the youngest grandchild insists New Orleans is his home. And, last week the college kid, who has been hanging around all summer, stayed behind … Continue reading →

The nurse had leprosy. The once tall, athletic teenager scooted around on the floor begging for handouts. The artist accustomed to computer, a wide selection of pens and papers sat on a low stool using feathers as pens on rough … Continue reading →