147 Dear Vic, I can’t take care of your mother anymore. I can’t keep giving her the precious energy I need for my own life. I have to face that she’s almost out of money to pay
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262 During an exhausting week of moving my husband Vic’s 102-year-old mother to a nursing home, I searched through an old file cabinet looking for a paper needed to fill out her insurance forms. I hadn’t visited
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127 We drove along the west side of Cayuga Lake toward Seneca Falls, NY, the site of the Women’s Rights National Historical Park where the first Women’s Rights Convention met in 1848. One year ago, Jane and
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96 I remember the tense discomfort of my flimsy excuse, but don’t recall just what it was. I remember the relief of avoiding being face-to-face with a dying person. In 1991, I hadn’t learned to sit with
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48 1. My Loving Family 2. The Women’s March in Washington, DC, January 2017 3. Bluebirds with Five Healthy Nestlings
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86 My ability to push against fatigue and check new projects off the endless to-do list ran away from home. I’ve looked for her everywhere. Believe me. I have. The Muse refuses to answer my calls. In
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483 I was once an extroverted girl who loved loud Motown concerts and learned every dance on American Bandstand. I liked singing, acting, and jiving with friends, my husband, and our sons. I loved concerts, opera, and
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82 On mid November days, loneliness and hopelessness descend like evening fog. Is it the darkness, the limited light and long nights? Maybe, but my inner gloom lifts in December. When I first explored these feelings in
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196 In my dream, my house is filled with noisy demanding people. Six orangutans lie in the middle of the wood floor. One lies on her back, wet and gooey as though she’s just given birth. She
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226 I didn’t want a second chance. I liked my first option, the married life I’d worked on and loved for forty years. My husband Vic and I called our relationship “the Path of Marriage.” In 1967,
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