Today is my 55th birthday. The Sammy Hagar tune “I Can’t Drive 55” keeps running through my head. It occurs to me that someday my kids will take my car keys away from me. After all, I am creeping closer to that golden age. I just hope to God that when they do, it’s the result of a high speed chase across multiple counties and not because of some embarrassing fender bender in a Costco parking lot. But back to the birthday, it’s a weird…
Although I've thought about it about a lot, I’ve never written about racism. For starters, I wasn’t sure I had the right. But even more, I’ve been too afraid: afraid of creating more pain and anger, afraid of my own ignorance, afraid of exposing less than desirable parts of myself. But in light of recent events in Ferguson, it’s clear that we don’t have the luxury of remaining frozen. I want to talk about it. It may be hard. It may be awkward. But I have…
Circumstances have a way of taking unforeseen turns and sometimes we find ourselves in a situation of living apart from our minor children. There can be a multitude of reasons–divorce, financial issues, geographical moves or even the kid’s own choice–but typically this is not the scenario we’d envisioned when we became mothers. We imagined that we had more time, at least 18 years, and we didn’t expect to be staring at an empty nest so early in the game. It’s a course shift of epic…
My guiding principle in creating this blog is authenticity and I always write from a place of openness and honesty. But every now and then, I wrestle with the conundrum of vulnerability and the simple question of whether or not to post about some of the more tender aspects of my humanity. Such is the case with this post. In the process of chewing this over, I reread a few older posts that I’d written, in particular, one on inspiration. I’m reminded that the artists…
