So how might these days be remembered, by our children and by those of us who have aligned with — and cherish — the slowing and the pause?
I was always that mom who couldn’t wait for the long breaks from school. It…
When we’re new moms, immersed in the thick of newborn and baby care, connecting with…
How do I begin this widow blog?
Since I am the biggest fan of “The Sound of Music”, Julie Andrews is in my head singing “let’s start at the very beginning…” so that’s what I will do. Although I guess this could be considered both a beginning and an end…
I felt like I wasn’t really there, that this wasn’t really happening. Logically, I knew it was but it felt almost as if I was watching a bad movie that I was starring in.
I got on the phone with him and just hearing his voice made me feel a little better. It was like talking to my past when life was simple and we were high school sweethearts.
It is the onion of life. On top is the shit that is thrown at you. Peel away the layers and you find people, your people, waiting to catch you. Lift you up. Make you whole again.
Friendships are compelling and complicated. It’s as if two people who become good friends sign a contract to be supportive 24/7, love each other unconditionally, and have each other’s backs no matter what.
I am so grateful for these women and their families. Sometimes, I don’t believe that my daughters and I would have survived the hardest moments without them.
None of us are happy with the conditions on the ground right now—being stuck at home, juggling work obligations or being out of work while navigating stir-crazy children, worrying about health and safety and what on earth will happen next.
Having been diagnosed in my early 40s, I lived a sizable chunk of my life marinating in confusion and negative inner dialogue before understanding what was happening to me.
As women, part of us will always miss the body and skin of our youth, but not one of us would choose to go back to the uncertainty and self-consciousness connected to those years.