Cait and I are making a batch of lentil soup together. She asks her signature question, “Mom, what should we talk about?”
Concentrating on chopping veggies, I answer, “I don’t know, Sweetie. What do you want to talk about?”
Cait loves hearing about my past, so I’m not surprised by her request.
“How about if you tell me again how you met Ceres?”
Ceres is my best friend.
“Okay,” I say, handing her the lentils to pick through and wash. … Read More
As I was listening to a visiting friend talk about her life over lunch, I was reminded yet again of how she’s painted herself into a comfy corner of “I can’t.”
I’ve known this friend for 25 years. What attracted me to her originally was her adventurous spirit. When she wasn’t home hobnobbing with famous authors, international journalists, and heads of state, she was traveling the world. She was politically active and spiritually seeking. In other words, she was full … Read More
Cait’s sitting on her favorite seat in the house — me. As she’s done since she was a baby, she brushes the hair back from my face with both her hands so she can see my whole face.
“Mom!”
“What?”
“You’re getting white hairs!”
Cait has announced this with some alarm. As though, for the first time, she’s realizing the clock’s not standing still.
“You can’t get old,” she adds with a hint of worry in her voice.
I joke, … Read More
Cait’s and my morning routine goes something like this:
I get up around 4:30 a.m., go downstairs, get the coffee going, let the dogs out, go back upstairs with coffee and dogs, and write for a few hours. Then I wake up Cait, get her breakfast, sit and chat with her while she eats, wait for the first bus to go by (which means there’s exactly five minutes until her bus will arrive), double-check that she has everything she needs … Read More
As I stand by the door, waiting for the dogs to do their business, I look up at the heavy gray sky; there’s a winter storm brewing. It reminds me of a conversation that took place on our way to Lake Placid a while back.
Andrew and I were in the front seat, and McLean and Caitlin were in the back. We were happy to have Mac with us, as he was home on break for a short while and … Read More
“Dad, Finn really likes you,” Cait says.
“I like Finn,” Andrew says.
“Finally, an animal you have no complaints about,” I say.
“That’s because there’s nothing to complain about. He does his job (Finnegan-now 9, Mice-0) and he’s quiet.”
“Sounds like a dating ad: Does job and is quiet,” I say. “Kiera and Graidy do their jobs too, you know.”
“Yep. We’ve got one dog who herds anything moving on the ground, one dog who herds anything moving up in … Read More
It’s near dinnertime. Cait comes running in through the door from an after-school activity and, as all kids do, drops her book-bag on the floor and makes a bee-line for the refrigerator. She swings the door open, stands there, and peers in for several minutes.
I tell her, “You’ve seen everything in there long enough to have it memorized. Close the door and stop letting all the cold air out.” I add, “When you figure out what you want, then … Read More
