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Category: Family Frets

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Remembrance

Remembrance

How is a life remembered? Which stories seal our fate? I forget more stories than I care to admit. The more time that passes, the more stories accumulate, making more for me to forget. Which shall I memorialize? Which should I tell you? Do I recall the ones where I am the hero who saves the day? The half-truths that will win me accolades, praise I’ll wish I deserved? Or, do I go with the truth? Dare I share the flawed, imperfect actions behind my best of intentions? Do I let the one about that night slip? The fragrant, spring night when you crawled off the bed and fell on your head? Or the one where I may have broken… READ MORE

COVID Tree: Part 2 The Tree

COVID Tree: Part 2 The Tree

No one has talked tree since Turkey Day. But the calendar has turned to December so a tree we must buy. I pine for the smell of pine. I miss the imperfect bit of nature, imperfectly grown and decorate that lights up a corner of our family room – and our family. “Where is the best place to buy a Christmas Tree?” I type into Google. I order a six-foot tree that will be picked out by strangers and delivered on Monday. Plastic is not our future – using plastic to procure pine, that’s the answer. This year, I’ve got it – I smile as the sun sets – wait, the sun is setting…. it’s time to light the menorah.… READ MORE

COVID Tree: Part 1 Thanksgiving

COVID Tree: Part  1 Thanksgiving

COVID coping mechanisms are copious chez moi. Compulsive cleaning is among the more productive of our pandemic proclivities – one that has revealed actual floor space in our basement. But it is space that reopens an old wound. “Do not even think of asking me to put that monstrosity together,” my husband admonishes, pointing his finger at six large, lumpy burgundy bags strewn across the floor. Sometimes we look for plastic perfection to lighten up the long dark days of winter. Sometimes this is a mistake. A mistake in six plastic parts. Plus, a base upon which the contents of said six bags are assembled. Let me explain. Back in 2018 we were still recovering from  a particularly harrowing trip… READ MORE

Pandemic Fatigue

Pandemic Fatigue

I am not a demonstrative person by nature. And yet… I want to French Kiss strangers, lick handrails and discard my mask. I am done with hand sanitizer, socially distant outside dining and doing my own nails. I hate COVID-19. I weep in frustration about this pandemic-imposed reality. I weep when this killer plague’s statistics are made real by the news stories about those whose lives this scourge cut short. I scream in impotent rage. But I put on my mask before I exit the car. Deal with the fog on my spectacles.` Sanitize my hands, the steering wheel – everything I touch. I will not be the conduit for this cootie. I will not take up an ICU bed.… READ MORE

Quarantine Family Court

Quarantine Family Court

“Dad, I said I was ‘sorry.’ Can you please just spank me now?” pleads my daughter with the overwrought exasperation that only a quarantined 16-year-old can muster. Family Court is in session – and will be 24/7 for at least the next month or two. Or more likely three. At least. We’re here all day together. All day. Every day. Together.  We are proof positive that familiarity does, in fact, breed contempt… and conflict… and ennui.  The transgressions add up quickly; this court’s docket can full by mid-morning. “You’ve never been spanked in your life. What are you talking about?” Must I worry about revisionist history on top of everything else? Welcome to QFC — Quarantine Family Court—West Coast Edition.… READ MORE

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