My cell phone broke yesterday. I dropped it while reaching for conditioning cream to put on my daughter’s hair, which was badly tangled. Darn phone. Darn day.


Love Is in The Air

Today is February 14, Valentine’s Day. As if anyone needs reminding.

I understand the hype around the day: the flowers, the cards, enticing jewelry and restaurant reservations. I play into it as much as the next person, without going overboard. I mean, I don’t buy fancy chocolate or decorate my home with hearts, but I do start the


Memory and Grace

Memory is selective. We all know that.

Why then do I continue to be amazed by the power of positive memory to shift our mindset?

In my previous post, I wrote about my grandmother, how she finally died after years of living with Alzheimer’s (if you call this living).  I didn’t speak at her funeral, but did write a few words about the way I wanted to remember her.


Remembering Grandma

My grandmother died this week.  It was expected; she’d had Alzheimer’s for years and finally forgot how to eat, taste, swallow, drink.  She’d long forgotten my  name, or how to walk, or that she once worked in the U.S. Senate.  She was ninety-four, a half-century older than me.


Even a King Must Persevere

Saturday night I took my twins to see The King’s Speech. The only thing remarkable about the event is that my children are nine and the film is rated R, although only for the curse words. Call me a bad mother, but my children have heard four-letter words—sometimes in the home, and sometimes not. In third grade, they are sponges for slang of any kind, even though most of the time they have no real sense of the words. They whisper and titter because they know the words are naughty, and this, of course, gives them a thrill.


The Gift of Friendship

I’m a lucky woman.  I’ve got so many friends.

This holiday season I’m feeling especially blessed by the people in my life.  You know who you are.   You’re my old friend who I played dress-up with and pretended to speak a foreign language called Limerick Gibberish.  You’re my high school friends who cheered over my first boyfriend and exposed me to life in a far broader sense than I’d known. You’re my college and New York City