The Gift of a Son’s Sobriety

For the last ten years, I have been steeped in sadness–and without hope–for my older son, who is a heroin addict. Last year, he overdosed four times on Fentanyl and went into cardiac arrest, barely being resuscitated in the emergency room after his heart ceased to beat. Still, even these close calls did not stop…

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The Bounty Of Family

What a joyous holiday our family had this Thanksgiving just past–four full days of wonder. Here is my little grandson, who sat at Nana’s holiday table for the first time, built trucks and trains and Duplo houses with me, went hand-in-hand to the playground, and drifted off to his parents singing my childhood lullaby. And now onward, into…

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More Than Pumpkin Pie

The words of the following two people have resounded throughout the years, and these quotations seem particularly appropriate at this time of thanksgiving–when we should be mindful of more than pumpkin pie. May you mull them over now, and next week, as you join hands around the table with your family and friends. Have a…

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Autumn’s Light

Autumn came bright and early that year. My toddler and I wandered down the sidewalk over a carpet of leaves, one that created a riot of color crackling under our feet. I held his hand as he balanced himself, precariously, on a low stone wall. Periodically pain streaked, low and mean, through my belly. For…

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Walking A New Road

Naturally enough, every year when Father’s Day comes around, I am reminded of my Dad. He belonged to a generation of men who smoked in the hospital waiting room while their wives delivered babies by themselves, men who would never change a diaper or be a Girl Scout Cookie Mom. How different my father was.…

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Sandwiched Between Chaos And Delight

Our trip over President’s Day weekend to visit my son, daughter-in-law and six-month-old grandson did not begin auspiciously. Before we even arrived in New York, our brand-new dog sitter phoned to tell us that, while she was throwing the ball in the rec room for fetch–crazy Mac, (our youngest Dal), had crashed into the wine…

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Coast To Coast

Last week, I went back to California for the first time since we moved to Maryland in September. The Bay Area south of San Francisco remains unchanged: still beautiful with its sunlight and winter green hills; still frustrating with its traffic and congestion; still costly to live and wine and dine in. Nevertheless, as the…

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Food Equals Love

My sister and I are sitting on opposite sides of the table in a drafty Vietnamese restaurant, slurping up bowls of Pho, on the afternoon before New Year’s Eve. We are each consulting our disintegrating copies of The Key To Chinese Cooking, authored by Irene Kuo. In the midst of planning what we are calling…

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Waitin’ For The Good Stuff

Today, a Carly Simon lyric is running through my head non-stop: “Anticipation is makin’ me late, is keepin’ me waitin’.” I am trying to be patient, but suppressing excitement about my trip to New York just makes time drag more: November 17th is only two days away, but I feel like a little girl holding…

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Building A Nest In Maryland

For the first time in a long time, children dressed in costumes and shrieking “Trick or Treat” will clamor at the stoop of my house on October 31st. In California, we lived at the end of a long and dark street where no child ever ventured; over the course of the past sixteen years, I…

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