Things I Don't Have Time To Tell My Kids

My father got early onset Alzheimer’s before I turned twenty, and died when I was twenty-three or maybe twenty-five. He died on Valentines Day, or the day after. I was living in Boston then. He was in a facility and had stopped remembering who I was long before I got the call. George Colin Richmond was a charismatic man, the guy who had to pick up the check, make friends with my friends, charm…

We moved to our tiny town just outside of Boston mostly because of the community pool. We were driving around aimlessly- Katy was about six months, Colin three- killing time until we could put the kids down for a nap, or waiting for them to fall asleep in the car. On the left, I spied a huge, bright blue, inground pool, surrounded by pine trees, down a small hill. My husband turned into the…

The other night I was tucked into my bed, surrounded by our three dogs. Bernadette is a neurotic, little French Bulldog, gorgeous and Gollum like. She throws up more than she eats and has blue eyes. Jack is the baby, with a nasty predilection for snapping at dogs that walk by the fence around our backyard, the sweetest lovey eyes and softest sigh, as he rests his head on my knee when I get home…

I’ve never been much for fireworks, the Boston Pops on the esplanade, or big statements about patriotism and sacrifice for country. My dad served; he never spoke about his time and when he did, it was shrouded in mystery and what seemed like tall tales about being dropped in Japan after World War II. My brother in law served; many of the students are work with are veterans- I always end our…

For the past six weeks, give or take a day or three, I’ve felt like I’m living life on the edge of my seat. Like there is always a task I’ve forgotten, a place that I should be, a call I didn’t return. Our lives been a little hectic. Jack and Chanel went to dog book camp to learn some manners; we just picked them up today so I’ll update on how successful it was. We had our floors done,…

When I look back on my experience with motherhood, and being a daughter, the first memories that come to mind are not of time in the kitchen learning to cook family favorites, flying kites, making collages or coaching kid’s soccer. I cringe a little. My own mom and I struggled; I was an ass from a very young age and gifted at running to my father over every interaction that didn’t go my way.…

Springtime came late this year in New England. We’ve lit the pellet stove every morning and each night. The cold has lingered and is starting to creep in now, as I write and the sun begins to set. I like the purr of the chips falling through the shoot, the warm air as it drifts up, and settles on my forearms and ankles. I like pulling a cashmere sweater around my shoulders while I hold onto to…

I went for my regular ob/gyn visit the other day. It had been a while, surprising given my age, sixty-two, and the joy of laying under fluttering paper with feet in stirrups, and bare bottom, shining like, yes, the moon. Of course, I don’t know what my bare bottom actually looked like; I was not in a position to see much except for my doctor. She was lovely and gracious, checked to make sure the…

Today, it is raining and cold here in the Boston area. I worked from home, perched on a kitchen chair whose rattan seat sags, the dogs have nibbled on the caning, and three of them are out in the trash in front of the house, (the chairs, not the pups). I could end on the floor before I’m done writing, or my bottom could fall in, and I could end up stuck, like a sad Winnie the Pooh, with no Piglet…

It’s been a quiet end of winter/beginning of spring season. The warmth, the sun, the first sight of crocuses, have not left my heart giddy and untethered, anxious for more, and joyful being able to walk a block in a tee-shirt and jeans. With everything going on, my mood has been both somber and blessed. I have less to say than usual, I’m busy trying to make sense of the world and the people…

{I didn’t know what to title this; the man who I am speaking about was one of the first men I fell in love with; knee knocking, short of breath, the- I can’t believe that guy wearing the blazer, the fisherman’s cap, just tilted, and the gloves without fingers was walking towards me AND smiling- kind of love. But that was a million years ago, and our relationship as friends lasted about twenty…

It’s over thirty degrees tonight. I clipped the leashes on Bernadette and Jack and took them out walking after work.It was still a little bit light. Everything is still covered in snow, patches of ice shine on the sidewalks.We were able to take our time, as it grew dark, we kept walking. We saw no one outside but when I peered into windows, I spotted people sitting down to dinner, or in front of…

Sheldon’s working tonight; I haven’t seen him since he dropped me off for work at 745 this morning. A few minutes ago, I went downstairs to our bedroom to check on Michael the cat and find some slippers. He’d made the bed before he left; he filled up the humidifier and it looks like he attempted to do something about the nightmare of socks on the laundry table. When he makes the bed, the…

I hadn’t had time to read the Sunday paper this morning; we got to church late and slipped in the back door. We didn’t even have time to glance at the order of worship when the choir stood up and went to the piano. Our music director began the first chords of “The Star Spangled Banner” and a soloist soprano sang out the first words- “Oh, say can you see, by the dawn’s early light…” The choir…

I can’t speak for all the other holidays floating around this time of year, or even for anyone but me but.. If you lean into the gifts, decorate your tree to coordinate with your throw cushions, or accept the weather forecast but still scan the sky for flakes If you buy elf on a shelf and you’re single Invite Aunt Margerite because she invited herself… If you are convinced the true Christmas…

I’m writing this in my kitchen, at a table with a log centerpiece and branches studded with holly. There is scented hand soap and a bag of homemade candy by the sculptured pitcher my daughter brought home from college. We don’t have holiday napkins; stores are already displaying napkins for Valentines, so we’ll have to make beige paper squares from the coffee shop. I’m a little bit sad. I’m…

Facebook memories come up almost every day when I sign on. There are sweet moments and pictures where I bask in the joy of my 13 year old son laughing at a joke, a snow day, Katy in her costume for Irish step dancing, Sophie, zumba marathons at the Y, fall leaves at Cunningham, a birthday party at Chuckie Cheese, a Christmas morning with Nancy and Jeff, a full moon, a new song, the craft fair at…