Someday Is Here

“Don’t go to the grocery store and get a haircut on the same day,” said Bob, one of my husband’s law firm partners, when he retired many years ago. “You want to stretch out your activities to fill your days.” One of my biggest worries when I retired was how I was going to fill

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The Presence of His Absence

  Our normal routine was interrupted two weeks ago by my husband’s sudden hospitalization. Our caregiver couldn’t get him to walk after they had lunch at the mall on Monday. He couldn’t reach me on my cell phone so he called 911 and they whisked him to the emergency room. It was an hour later

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The Best-Laid Plans…

  I raced up to Mammoth after work, hoping to beat the heavy spring snow storm that was forecast. The roads were clear and dry all the way until north of Bishop, near Sherwin Summit. The wind whipped around our car and after Crowley Lake, thick flakes of snow blurred the view through the windshield.

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Remnants from the Women’s March

One week ago today, I was at the Women’s March in Washington, DC with hundreds of thousands of people. I took Friday off from work, left my husband with the caregiver and traveled to Baltimore, anxious and nervous. I had never participated in a demonstration before. I stayed near Annapolis with a friend of a

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A Scottish Interlude

  It’s been almost a month since my week-long vacation in Scotland. I left my husband at home with the caregiver and traveled with my neighbors and assorted sons and nieces, theirs and mine. We visited ruins in St. Andrews, caught a glimpse of the Highlands as we drove by Loch Lomond, rode a ferry

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To Infinity and Beyond

  Zack and I took in the show, –Unfinished: Thoughts Left Visible, at the Met Breuer last month. I was drawn to this painting by Roman Opalka, a Polish artist who began the count to infinity to convey the continuum of time. He painted 233 canvases in all, before his death in 2011, with white

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My Vision of Hell

  I’m packing for a trip to New York to see my son Zack then on to Washington DC for an education conference. It’s not the myriad details that need attending before I leave — arranging for the caregiver, planning out meals and stocking the refrigerator with enough food for a week — that leaves

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Oh, What a World

I’m listening to Anne Tyler’s A Spool of Blue Thread in the car during my commute to work. “Oh, what a world, what a world,” says Abby to her future mother-in-law, Mrs. Whitshank. “That’s what the wicked witch says in The Wizard of Oz.” “In a way, it sounds kind of pitiful,” Mrs. Whitshank says. Those

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Be More Active!

My husband and I are in Mammoth for the long weekend. I was hoping it would snow so we could hole up in the condo next to a crackling fire. But the weather has been sunny and warm, in the 50’s, which made the late Friday night drive easy and clear of ice. I know

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An Overflowing Tree of Life

The past two weeks have been as colorful and full as the Arbol de la vida (artesenias) by Oscar Soteno Elias that I saw at the Museo de Arte Popular in Mexico City.   It began when both boys came home for the holidays, filling our house with cheer as luggage, presents and books covered

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