-
I am looking through my button box and pick up a small cloth-covered button. “Turquoise silk,” I murmur, remembering the dress it came from, a dress I wore only once.
-
When I start feeling annoyed by the way my husband eats his breakfast—or breathes in and out—I know it’s time for some space.
-
-
When I was in sixth grade, an announcement was made that we were all going to get T.B. shots in a couple of weeks. This had never happened before and suddenly the school was full of frightening rumors.
-
We talked and laughed for a couple hours on the little balcony... Sometimes shifting gears takes you to a better place.
-
I was invited to a fiftieth birthday party a while ago and told to bring a piece of wisdom as a gift. This seemed like a great idea to me, a benefit not only to the guest of honor but to all the participants.
-
It meant you had permission to be yourself—something I didn’t feel anywhere else. Permission to sit on the floor of the coat closet in the dark and feel safe—watching the light come through the colored glass.
-
This time I do know that I’ll never wear that long corduroy skirt again. I could pretend it’s out of style but the fact is that the waist is too tight. Ouch, I said it. Into the box it goes.
-
The bad news on my radio has turned to good news just beyond my windshield. Then traffic starts moving again and I make my left turn. Grateful—beyond measure—for this delay.
-
“We all have baggage by this age,” I say. She and I are no longer young but not yet ready to be old. We sip our glasses of wine and reflect on our own baggage, that load of hang-ups and heartaches we carry around.