08
Jul
Jul
Reply All is a form of narcissistic, societal torture.
Tag Archives: mail
22
Dec
Dec
God is the glue that connects us. She/He/It is the whisper in our heads imploring us to be better, to do better – to strive for excellence, to walk the path of our higher, best self. God is in the ephemeral breeze that cools, a laugh shared with a stranger, a friend’s encouraging text on…
24
Nov
Nov
Hope is the creep lurking in corners pretending to be a gift, a curse hiding in blessing’s clothes.It’s the eternal spring that gives Mr. Wrong his 100th chance. Hope is the 3rd year intern who won’t call it, the ‘compassionate care’ trial that tortures the dying. Hope is the healthy “Subscribe and Save” snack subscription….
03
Jun
Jun
I do not have the children I expected. They’re like me in ways I wish they weren’t. They express traits of their father’s that are not amongst my favorites. But, on some days I can see the best of myself and my spouse shimmer within them. I treasure those days. Even then, when I am…
05
Jan
Jan
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…
05
Jan
Jan
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…
18
Nov
Nov
“Georgia O’Keeffe moved to rural New Mexico, from which she would sign her letters to the people she loved, “from the faraway nearby.” It was a way to measure physical and psychic geography together. Emotion has its geography, affection is what is nearby, within the boundaries of the self. You can be a thousand miles…
29
Aug
Aug
NOMENCLATURE noun A set or system of names or terms, as those used in a particular science or art, by an individual or community, etc. The names or terms comprising a set or system.I love words. Reading them. Speaking them. Words tether me to this world; conversation is how I connect. I’ve written words…
24
Aug
Aug
Flow. Flow is my idea of heaven. When my mind and body cooperate to create a whole. A whole thought, movement … anything that is complete, that is heaven. When my thoughts flow — not in fragments as is their habit – but formed in whole – albeit imperfect— cloth before they reach my mouth….
23
Mar
Mar
On November 5, 2015 – the anniversary of Guy Fawkes and his Catholic crew’s attempt to blow up the British Parliament in 1605 – my world was blown up with a diagnosis. “Could it be anything else?” I asked the head of UCLA’s Movement Disorder Clinic “No, it’s Parkinson’s Disease,” he replied. There was never denial…
18
Mar
Mar
The dishes whir in the dishwasher, the sun retires from this hemisphere. My husband responds to emails, the children collude with their computers to complete work while the dogs nuzzle them. I am alone in the spotless kitchen. I listen to the rain and debate what will sate my soul’s parched tongue. I claim this…
29
Feb
Feb
I love my children. I actually like them sometimes – at least often enough to keep me out of jail and them out of house arrest. Sometimes though, I have to rely on love alone and remind myself that motherhood is a blessing. Children are cute when they’re little and incapable of wiping their own…
29
Feb
Feb
]There are many roads to the Mecca of motherhood. All are bumpy. All lead to the rollercoaster of emotions that is parenthood. The blessed and life-affirming firsts; baby’s first step, first tooth, first love and its inevitable denouement. Then there are the less savory firsts …. first time they lie, their first speeding ticket…. the…
31
Dec
Dec
On a crisp November morning, an esteemed neurologist confirms what I already know. “It’s Parkinson’s Disease.” “Could it be anything else?” “No. You have PD. But I have patients who are in their eighties and nineties – and I know that you’ll be one of those too.” Learning that one has a neurodegenerative disease is…
21
Dec
Dec
Sometime between washing the last pan and the first dollop of the leftover Thanksgiving stuffing, our thoughts turn from gluttony to gifting. Whether your tradition deems the verdant branches a Christmas Tree or a Chanukah Bush, let’s stipulate—for the purposes of this story–that a pine-smelling plant is the perfect antidote to winter’s dark chill. My…
14
Dec
Dec
You are not as privileged as I. I was born on third base – you must hit a triple to join me. Nevertheless, you are blessed. You have two parents who care about you. This alone puts you ahead of the game in our troubled world. And thanks to said parents’ foresight and your hard-work…
06
Dec
Dec
I am at the wedding reception of my husband’s friend. I know a few guests, none well. The catering is superb. While my husband catches up with friends, I delight in dining solo. We smile at each other, content in our parallel party paths. As I stand outside — literally (it is an indoor/outdoor event)…
03
Nov
Nov
“I don’t think that you enjoy anything until you’re good at it,” says one of my oldest friends, trying to entice me to move out of the children’s ski area. It is the spring of 2000, that sweet spot in the aughts. The fears about the turn of the new century have fizzled and September…
12
May
May
It’s said that doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is a definition of insanity. But it’s also widely acknowledged that, because randomness makes children feel unsafe, routine is essential to the task of parenting. And, naturally, it’s not a routine unless it’s repeated. Regularly. I routinely ask – nay,…
30
Apr
Apr
“If you’ve got your health, you’ve got everything.” Well, then, I am lacking. I am afflicted. But so are many. My conditions are my constant companions. They’ll shuffle along this mortal coil with me for as long as I shuffle along upon it. But there is a gift in my conditional state: my chronic ailments…
27
Mar
Mar
Like all Angelenos, I spend a lot of time in my car. When not chauffeuring children hither and yon, I’m driving myself back from their activities and to my own. When in the car solo, I enjoy thoughtful, talk radio; thank heavens for KPCC.org. I also enjoy making phone calls in the private bubble of…
07
Mar
Mar
Cleanliness is next to Godliness. And when this drought-conscious Californian vacations in a state with ample water, the showers are long and luxurious. I revel in this watery heaven enveloped in lavender steam with warm water pouring down from a rain-shower head. But these indulgences have consequences: annoying droplets of water that worm their way…
27
Feb
Feb
“I love you more.” “No, I do, mommy.” “Nope, it’s settled. I do.” “Okay, well, maybe,” my 10-year-old mutters as his sleepy eyes close. “Good night,” I whisper as I turn out the light and turn to exit. THUMP! He stirs. “Mom, are you okay?” “Maybe,” I reply, wincing from my knee-banging stumble over errant,…
26
Feb
Feb
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 bestie, Anxiety, rear their raging, irrational heads. “You’re not helping….
06
Feb
Feb
“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. These inanimate objects are my true friends….
30
Nov
Nov
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 she tries it on, is clearly low where it should…
01
Oct
Oct
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 aspect of your…
22
Jul
Jul
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 parent posse outside of our children’s school….
12
Jul
Jul
“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 closet. Now … they are my closet. High…