My daughter and Amanda both sent me the following blog/article by Berry Liberman. My daughter wanted to know how I felt about it since it concerns aging. Here it is: Vanity is a funny thing. It’s based on comparison and as we all should know by now, comparison is the death of happiness. I met a beautiful girl the other… Read More
Getting down in the winter months…
The smell of country air and sweet laundry soap wafted up from Grandma’s flannel sheets. I loved it. Nothing said wintery comfort like burrowing under the covers on a cold winter morning and feeling the soft flannel warmth. The quilts Grandma used on her beds when I was growing up tended to be sewn from fabric scraps. Some of her… Read More
Where have the manners gone?
On Friday nights, in the warm months of Minnesota, I would walk down the gravel road to wait for my dad’s car to appear on the highway’s horizon. He was only home on weekends as his work in the construction trade took him to various locations throughout the state. Sitting in the grassy ditch gave me plenty of time to… Read More
Making the call…
After the clinic called to schedule my follow-up mammogram I felt unsure of what to do next. My husband always phones at noon to connect and chat. Should I tell him about the appointment and perhaps needlessly worry him? Should I mention it to my son who was visiting? What purpose would that serve? It wouldn’t make me feel any… Read More
It was the breast of times…
The answer machine blinked…1…1…1…1. Having just returned from running errands in town I didn’t know what to do first—check the message, hug my just-arrived son, or extract Pudgy from my ankle. I selected hugging my son first. After some chit-chat with him I idly pressed the button to hear the message. “Mrs. Gates, this is the clinic calling. Your mammogram… Read More
Facing Winter…
The wind hit my face like a wet-towel snapped on bare skin in a locker room. It was one of the coldest mornings of our abnormally warm winter and I dressed for Booker’s walk like an Antarctic explorer. Booker was patient, but looked at me strangely as I tried to move with any semblance of grace in my eighty-four layers… Read More
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