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Trait Fret: Part 1

Trait Fret: Part 1

The ‘must do’ nature of homework sometimes gives us strong-willed sorts pause. If it’s too easy, e.g. Spanish, it’s a waste of time. Too challenging, a longer essay, say, in English… possibly with the Odyssey as its subject… well, then the Frustration Monster and her...

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Tardy

Tardy

“Mom, let’s go!” Let’s not. I think I’ll stay put.  I’m going to take a hard pass on greeting the day. I like my bathroom.  It’s nice in here. My lap top and phone batteries are fully charged, there are plenty of towels to cushion the stone floor. ...

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Pleasure, Pain and Dresses

Pleasure, Pain and Dresses

I was reminded one crisp, fall Sunday afternoon that pleasure and pain are inextricably linked… My daughter and I venture to Bloomingdales in Century City in search of a Homecoming dress—her first. She falls in love with a rich, emerald green, velvet dress that, when...

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41 — in Memorium

41 — in Memorium

My father died 41 years ago in October.  He was good and died young. He was 57. I was 12. When a child loses a parent at such a young age, she must make choices. There are so many milestones, so much history that would’ve been written together but instead must be...

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Yet to Be….

Yet to Be….

I should tell you the stories of how proud you make me. How you make others smile, of your deft Instagram touch. Of the way you chronicle ‘car dancing’ – and your grace in not posting it on Snap Chat. Like you – and everyone in your generation - post every other...

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The Writer

The Writer

I talk. A lot. I can talk to a tree. But I do listen. That’s why I write.  To prove that I do hear the other side of the pas de deux of conversation. It may seem that because my lips flap so much of the time that I don’t.  That I’m too busy trying to come up with the...

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The Touch

The Touch

I Have the Touch* Of a community that doesn’t want me afflicted. Of literal embrace. Of phones that would be answered in the middle of the night. I am touched. “Have you heard?” “No, what?” “I have Parkinson’s Disease,” I share my then-recent diagnosis as I join the...

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Flat Fret

Flat Fret

“Shoe” is a good word as is “sale.” When combined… well, who can resist such bipedal pleasure? Not I. Thus, I am shod in new shiny slides.  They are well-priced. They are pretty. They are comfortable. They are flat. Flats and low heels have always dominated my...

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Valet Fret

Valet Fret

“Your hand is shaking,” says a well-coiffed brunette of a certain age who, like me, is waiting, waiting and waiting for her car. “Can I help you?” I smile – we’ve just been at a posh cocktail party for a children’s charity. “I have Parkinson’s Disease.” “Would you...

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Threaded

Threaded

Love is the thread that tethers me to my children.  And husband. Like is just not strong enough. Not tonight. Not on rushed, late-for-school mornings or at doctor’s appointments where needles are needed. Love is the thread that pulls me to make the appointments, to...

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